The Tutor

by K Larsen

  Holden’s chest pushes in and out so fiercely, that I think his ribs might break. “You should not have done that.” His voice is deep and angry. He crushes me to his chest. “You ruined everything.” Fear cripples me. I go limp in his arms.

  He walks us through the backyard and up to the back door. My breathing is too quick and I feel lightheaded. Holden uses his foot to push the cracked door open wide enough for us to both fit through.

  Nora

  My pulse skyrockets with fear, but I can’t help the butterflies that dance through my stomach. Holden stands in my kitchen. The smile that curls his lips is so smug, it physically sickens me. His beard is gone. He is clean shaven. His hair is cut short. He is almost unrecognizable. But his eyes, his eyes are still a fierce emerald hue. They cut right through me. He holds Lotte firmly with one hand and has one of my kitchen knives in the other.

  “Holden is here,” I say. I know Eve is just out of sight from his position and I know she will do the right thing because I am not sure I will be able to, now that he is before me. He is handsome and rugged and his smell messes with my memory. I want to curl up and hide and run into his arms simultaneously. Charlotte looks terrified, yet happy. The light, the fight still in her eyes makes me overwrought with emotion. She is here and relieved to see me.

  I look Holden right in the eyes. “Leave.” He laughs. My words have no effect. Holden steps even closer, deliberately looming over me. I can smell him clearly now. Fresh air, pine and smoke. Emotions ripple through me. Love, terror, lust, hate, desire, fear. It causes me to sway on my feet.

  “Do not touch her,” Eve screams. Lotte is crying silently in Holden’s large hands. I hold my hand up to stop Eve. I shoot Lotte the most comforting look I can.

  “Tell me what you want, Holden,” I say.

  His lips curl upward. “You. Only ever you.” He has dimples. That surprises me. That there are things about him that I still do not know. Things that maybe I will never have the chance to learn.

  I glance at Eve over my shoulder. Her body is wracked with tremors. Her fists are clenched so tightly, her knuckles are white. I bite my lip and swing my gaze back to Holden. “Let Lotte go.”

  Holden runs his free hand through his short cropped hair. “Why would I do that?”

  I lift my chin. “So you can have me.” I swallow hard against the lump in my throat.

  Holden lets out a strangled moan.

  “Nora, now,” he demands.

  It takes every last bit of conviction I have to refrain from obeying him. Eve lets out a mewl behind me. I can feel his need for me in my bones.

  “Let Lotte go.” I look at Lotte. She shakes her head at me. Her big eyes wide with fear. She is trying to protect me. My heart stammers in my chest. Pride at what an amazing girl she is, swells inside me. She is family. She deserves the best life. She kept me going all those months. Seeing her face again, brings back so many emotions.

  “When you’re with me, I will.”

  I turn to Eve. Tears stream down her face. “Don’t do this, Nora,” she whispers.

  I walk to her quickly and envelope her in a hug. “Junk drawer,” I whisper as I pull away from her. Turning I look at Holden.

  His eyes are stormy. His expression wicked. He presses the knife hard enough into Charlotte’s neck that blood seeps from the spot. No. No, no, no. “Hurry up, Nora.”

  This is the only way. This is the only way Lotte’s safe. The only way Eve and I win. It’s the only choice. I’d already been made to feel powerless. I’d already been in a position I could do nothing about and this time, I would not sit idly by. Not when other lives are at stake. I choose the light. The high road, or as Dr. Richardson would say, the right road.

  I force my legs to move. One step.

  Two.

  Three.

  I go to the Devil and there he is, waiting. His eyes never leave mine. He releases Lotte. She sprints past me—no doubt into her sister’s arms. I don’t look. There is a small cry of joy from them behind me. It makes me smile. Holden’s hand spins me so my back is against his chest in a single motion.

  “I wish you were a better man,” I whisper. His breathing changes. I know he heard me. He sets the knife on the countertop. Eve’s eyes bulge from her beautiful face. Lotte buries her face into her sister’s stomach, as Holden’s hands find my neck.

  “I wish you actually loved me.” His voice is barely a whisper in my ear.

  “But I did. I do,” I rasp. His fingers tighten. I inhale through my nose slowly to get as much oxygen as possible.

  “We could have had it all, Nora. Kids, a life, a family.”

  I cringe at his words. Children who he could hurt? Raise to be like him? Lives are a collection of choices. I chose to answer that ad in the paper. I chose to keep quiet about Anton, which left me emotionally weak, an easy target. I chose to take what Holden offered. I chose to be blind to his wrongs. I chose to escape and now I’m choosing Lotte’s life over mine.

  There is no other option.

  It is Lotte or me.

  Holden’s fingers continue to squeeze like a python, slowly suffocating its prey. I open my eyes and see Eve’s hand in the open junk drawer. I faintly hear sirens blaring in the distance. Is this how it ends?

  Holden laughs as Eve cocks the gun and takes aim. Her hand is unsteady, given the macabre scene before her.

  Do it, I mouth to her. Stars dance in my vision. She shakes her head. I try to blink the stars away.

  “Careful, Eve, you might miss and hit Nora.” Holden’s voice is warm and deep and easy but I can feel the fear radiating off him. I can’t breathe. Instinct takes over.

  “Go ahead, Eve. Shoot,” Holden says. My fingers claw at his hands, which only serves to make him squeeze more. I kick my legs. My lungs burn.

  “I have died a thousand times, Eve. I am not scared of death!” Holden laughs. It is not the laugh of a man capable of love. That clicking and snapping in my brain returns. How could I think he offered anything but madness?

  “You can’t, can you?” he says.

  It hurts. I can’t fight hard enough. I want him to spin me around, face me. Look me in the eyes as he squeezes. But he won’t. He can’t. Because to Holden, there will never be another like me. And although that makes me special, it doesn’t make it real love. A tear rolls down my cheek. Look at me one last time, you bastard. He was busy finding faults in me, while I was busy overlooking his. My hair had to be just right. My clothes the way he liked. I needed to be submissive. I followed all his rules. I did it because I wanted to please him. I wanted what he offered. But he wasn’t really offering much, was he? Just pain and pleasure, without all the little things in between that count in the long run. Click, click, click goes my brain.

  “Fuck you!” Eve yells. “Fuck you!”

  Lotte screams. I claw at his fingers around my neck one more time before the kitchen dims into darkness, and then . . . there is nothing.

  Him

  Nora’s body goes limp in my hands. Panic seeps into my bloodstream. What have I done? I loosen my fingers around her delicate neck. The crack of the gun startles me. The bullet to my bicep makes me stumble and lose my grip on Nora. She drops to the floor in a heap. I blink and look at Eve. Her murderous glare is focused. Rage gurgles in my belly. She pulls the trigger again. My shoulder smarts and I stumble again.

  “Nora,” I breathe. “My Nora.”

  “Do not talk to her!” Lotte’s voice is bold and protective. Eve uses one arm to try and tuck Lotte behind her. I drop to my knees. Nora is still unmoving. I take Nora’s face in my hands. Her skin is warm and soft. So soft. I bend down and press my lips to hers.

  There is a scuffle between Eve and Lotte. I can hear Lotte’s breathing. It is rough and loud.

  “No, Lotte!” It is Eve’s voice. Frantic and terrified.

  I have killed Nora.

  I have killed her.

  I have ruined everything.

  The gun fires again. My ears ring at the sound.

/>   The kitchen goes black as I kiss my love.

  I’m coming for you. I’ll join you.

  I look up from Nora’s beautiful face into the barrel of the gun in Lotte’s hands.

  Nora

  I jolt awake—disoriented. Where’s Lotte? Tubes snake in and out of me. I’m covered in light blue. The steady beeps of nearby monitors hurt my ears. So much white noise. A symphony of electronic background sound that’s headache inducing. The door to the room is closed. I don’t like closed doors. Panic jumpstarts my heart. I’m trapped. Again. No, no, no. What is happening?

  The door opens. Please be Charlotte. A man in a gray suit enters the room. I lift my head slightly. “Hello, Nora.” I know who he is. I squint at him. It’s strange to think of the unexpected turns a person’s life can take. “Salve,” I say. My voice is hoarse from Holden’s hands around my neck.

  He shakes his head at me. “You just had to be a goddamned hero, didn’t you?” My face wrinkles in confusion. “Do you remember what happened?” he asks.

  Memories rush back, flooding my brain. “Oh, God, Lotte. Eve!” I attempt to push myself up to a sitting position. I’m frantic. Holden is still out there. If I’m here, where are Eve and Lotte? Where is Holden?

  “Easy there, champ,” Salve says. I glance at my right bicep which is wrapped up.

  “One of the shots grazed your arm. You’re fine—mostly.”

  I swallow. It hurts. My fingers gingerly come to my neck and assess the damage done by large, forceful hands. “Holden?” I ask.

  “Dead.” I blink. Once, twice, three times. “Eve shot him four times. Two in the head. Once in the bicep and once in the shoulder.” He nods to my bandaged arm. I’m stunned into numbness. I can’t decipher whether I feel sad, elated or relieved. I had trusted him, I had loved him once.

  When my mouth cooperates, I ask. “Where is she? Where’s Lotte?”

  Salve hangs his head. “Eve is detained for questioning.”

  “What?” I breathe.

  “If she would have just waited a minute more, the police would have been there.”

  “And I would be dead.” I point out. He nods, but doesn’t smile.

  “I’m here to take your statement of what happened at the house, and to deliver a letter to you. Oh and don’t worry, Agent Brown is with Eve. She’s being taken care of.”

  I watch as he pulls an envelope from the inside pocket of his suit coat. “Here,” he says. I take the envelope as he stands. “I’ll give you some privacy.”

  I’m not sure I want him to go.

  I stare at the envelope, unsure if I want to open it. It doesn’t say who it is from. It only has my name scribbled on the front. Bruises, in the shapes of fingers around my throat, pulse to life as my blood pressure spikes. I finger them gingerly. Some things are born to be broken. The day that we met, we were already falling apart. It was all just borrowed time. We were not sustainable. It’s not easy knowing that. It doesn’t ease the pain in my chest. I can still picture the cabin, feel his hands on my skin, hear the sound of his voice. I still dream that he is meant for me. I don’t want to hear otherwise, I don’t want to feel this heartache anymore. I don’t want to be nice. I want the dark caress of Holden’s blade. Of his hands. Only ever him.

  I rip the envelope open and inhale as I unfold the paper inside.

  Nora,

  This isn’t how I envisioned my life, but some things we have no control over. Until I am able to be with Lotte, I want you to take care of her. Please say yes. There is no one else and I will be damned if she becomes a foster kid, after everything she’s been through.

  They tell me that it could be a while until the investigation is worked out. There may be a trial and although my chances are good, there is still a chance that I could go to prison for murder. Lotte needs someone to count on. Someone to love her. She needs someone like you. I know you’ll do what’s right.

  I love you.

  -Eve

  The photographer has snapped pictures of the group and I’ve collected the picture Nora agreed to let us have, a selfie of her, The Tutor and Charlotte. We’re seated in Nora’s living room. My recorder, ready to turn on. My pad on my lap, pen in hand. I look Nora over, she’s pretty in a natural way. Red hair, milky skin and bright clear eyes. She doesn’t wear much makeup and her hair is tucked behind her ears.

  “I want to thank all of you for opening your home to me and taking the time to meet with me. Do you mind if I record the interview?”

  “Not at all,” Nora says. I press record and set it on the coffee table in the middle of us all.

  “For understandable reasons, you and those closest to you have been very private about what’s happened. It’s been just over a year since your living nightmare ended in the early morning of February 20th, 2016. For the first time ever, you’ve agreed to an exclusive interview with me. Why is that, Nora?” I could answer this one myself, because I am Meredith Walters of People Weekly Magazine and we are paying Nora Robertson a boat load for the exclusive. People vie for my human interest pieces. I normally wouldn’t have picked this interview up, but the whole team agreed to speak. The FBI agent, the detective, the captives themselves. It makes for a sensational piece, that even I couldn’t turn down.

  She looks around the room, taking in each face as she goes. A soft smile plays on her lips.

  “I want to raise awareness about emotional abuse . . . the struggle to return to normalcy and the unlikely people who have made that possible for me. I think, too often, young women are lured into emotionally unstable relationships that are toxic. It is very easy to justify behaviors that are wrong when you care for someone.”

  “That is commendable. How are you, besides this interview, doing that?”

  “Along with everyone in this room, I’ve started a charity that aids victims of emotional abuse or physical abuse in their recovery.”

  “That’s wonderful. What’s it called?” I ask.

  “NEL for Nora, Eve, Lotte. I’ll be sure to give you our business card, so you can run all the information with the article.” I grin at Nora and nod.

  “Tell me about The Tutor. What was he like?”

  Nora’s face bunches up. “My goal today is to open up about the experience afterward, not to discuss Holden,” she says. Bingo. She called him by his name. I make a quick note to highlight that fact in the write up.

  I change the topic. “At twenty, you took a job as a summer live-in tutor at a remote cabin on Mount Arat, correct? I just want to establish a timeline for our readers.”

  Nora nods. “Yes, that’s right.”

  “You were young and impressionable,” I offer. She nods again. “Let’s go back to February of 2016, then. What transpired that day?” I ask.

  “I escaped with Charlotte. It was a terrible blizzard that morning and I lost control of the truck and crashed. When I came to, I was in the hospital and Lotte wasn’t with me.”

  “And from then on, it was a race against time to recover Charlotte, yes?”

  “Yes,” Agent Brown answers. Detective Salve leans over and puts a hand on her shoulder.

  “Knowing Charlotte was still missing was torturous. I’d been looking for her for so long. I got the call that someone was in the hospital and had probably lived with The Tutor and I thought it was Lotte. I was sure of it. It was devastating learning she didn’t make it away from him,” Eve says. She’s curled on the couch, knees tucked beneath her. Casual. Collected. I nod while making notes.

  “And Charlotte, that day was fateful for you as well. What happened while Nora was unconscious? What made you pick that morning to escape?”

  She looks to Nora and Eve, both nod their encouragement for her to answer. Interesting—she doesn’t speak without their permission.

  “I tried to wake Nora. I was scared. I heard noises in the brush and I knew he was close. I was banged up and hurt. I couldn’t get away from him. I didn’t pick. Nora did. He . . . he hurt me. Hit me. Nora didn’t like that. It broke the spe
ll.”

  “So, you went back to the cabin with him?”

  “Yes,” Charlotte answers.

  “Did you try and run?” I ask Charlotte.

  Nora motions for Charlotte to stay quiet.

  “It is wrong to judge someone in any situation asking, ‘Well, why didn’t you try to run? Why didn’t you scream? Why didn’t you try to do something?” Nora says. “That is so fallacious and frankly, derogatory. You can’t know until you’re subjected to it yourself.”

  “I did, though. I almost made it to the cliff,” Charlotte interjects. “But he grabbed me and pulled me back. And I’m thankful for that because I’m here and I wouldn’t be, if he had let me jump, like I planned.”

  I watch Charlotte carefully. Her expression is sincere. She is grateful to the man who ruined years of her life.

  “Tell me about ‘the spell’ you mentioned. How did you maintain your sanity?” I ask her. She looks a lot like Eve but younger. She’s a budding young lady, who will soon be a beautiful woman and people will want to know how she’s doing.

  Lotte bites her lip before speaking. “I had Eve, then Nora,” she says softly. “I stayed hopeful. I thought of Eve and seeing her again. The spell was . . . it was Nora playing along with him. Playing nice. Thinking we were one big happy family. But when he hurt me, she saw the truth.”