The Chateau (Chateau 1)

I lowered my voice. “I saw one of these guys outside our apartment yesterday. He stood right across the street and watched you leave.”

Melanie laughed like it was funny. “Girl, you need to chill. Your mind is playing tricks on you.”

“It’s not,” I snapped. “I know what I saw, and it’s too much of a coincidence.”

“Raven, it’s fine.” She patted me on the arm. “We’re just going to a party. I’ll see you later, alright?”

The guy I recognized whispered to her, “Come on, beautiful. We’ll show you a Paris you’ve never seen.”

She blew me a kiss before she walked away.

I was so sick of this shit, so sick of being the logical and reasonable one, of being the one to look after her because she was so unintelligent and clueless about her surroundings. I grabbed her by the wrist again. “I don’t like these guys, Melanie. Let’s just go back inside—”

“Stop telling me what to do.” She pulled away again. “I’m a big girl who doesn’t need you to take care of me anymore.”

That hit too close to home, and I lost my temper. “Obviously, I still do need to take care of you because these guys have got psycho written all over them, and you’re too stupid to see that. I’m sick of this shit, Melanie. I’m sick of you making stupid decision after stupid decision. I’m telling you, I saw that motherfucker outside our apartment, and he’s gonna put you in an oil barrel or something. There’re a million guys out there. You’ll find someone new tomorrow.”

Her eyes were heavy from the alcohol in her blood, but they were still aware enough to react, to show how much those words stung. “Then maybe they will put me in an oil barrel and I won’t be your problem anymore.” She walked to the guys waiting at the car.

“Alright.” The other guy clapped his hands and rubbed his palms together. “Let’s get this party started.”

I clenched my jaw and sucked the back of my lips, furious enough to move mountains but helpless to do anything but watch. While my sister had a lot of good qualities, she also had a lot of bad ones, like constantly getting herself into trouble. And you know who cleaned up those messes?

Me. Always me.

I resented her for constantly putting me in positions I didn’t want to be in, constantly setting me back in life with mistake after mistake. My life was easy in Paris, and I realized I never wanted to go home; I was ready to finally start a new life for myself. But she was my sister…and that love, that bond, that sense of protectiveness, would never leave me.

So, I did the only thing I could…and went after her.

She was already in the back seat when I walked up.

“You want to join us too, beautiful?” He opened the back door again. He gave me a wink that wasn’t the least bit charming.

“You’re going to come?” Melanie asked in surprise. “My sister is finally gonna pull that stick out of her ass.” She scooted over and patted the seat beside her. “Girl, let’s go.”

I took the seat beside her, watching the two guys, hoping that my paranoia was just a hypersensitive intellect. The doors shut, and the guys got into the two front seats.

I watched them both like a hawk.

“What should we listen to?” the driver asked as he turned on the radio. “How about some American shit?” He changed the channels until he found an upbeat pop song from a female artist. “Now, that’s good shit.” He started to dance in his seat. The other guy did too.

“Hell yeah!” Melanie threw up her hands and started to dance, getting into it like she was in a club and had all the room in the world to throw her arms left and right, smacking me in the shoulder without even realizing it.

There were a million fun things to do in Paris. Getting in a car with these two weirdos wasn’t one of them. She could have any man she wanted with beauty like that, but she settled for any man who asked her out. It was baffling.

The guy in the passenger seat turned to look at me. “Come on, have some fun. We’ll show you a good time.”

“Where are we going?” I barked.

“Chill, chill.” He faced forward again. “Let’s drive by the Eiffel Tower.”

“Yes!” Melanie shrieked in excitement, still dancing to the music, even though she’d been to the site before—because I’d taken her.

The guys pulled onto the street and drove through traffic, passing all the coffee shops, restaurants, and the other nightlife that we could be visiting. The radio continued to play music, and the guys talked to Melanie.

As time went on, they seemed harmless. They asked Melanie about her life in New York, tried to get information out of me because I wasn’t receptive, and then we pulled up to the Eiffel Tower.