“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.
“There it is,” the guy in the passenger seat said. “On your left—in all her glory.”
I turned to look at the base of the tower, the long pathway with the fountains down the center, full of pedestrians walking with warm cups of coffee in their hands, enjoying the white Christmas lights wrapped up in the trees on either side. It was something I looked at all the time, a pathway I’d taken on afternoon walks with friends. It was beautiful every time I looked at it, and even now in my disgruntled mood, I still thought it was magnificent.
And then a sharp pain erupted from my leg.
I looked down to the needle piercing through my jeans into my thigh.
My sister had one too.
“You motherfucker.” I lunged forward and grabbed the guy by the throat, slamming my hand into his face to beat him fucking senseless.
Melanie had a harsher reaction to the drug because she immediately slumped back against the seat, her eyes glazing over. “Oh my god… What’s happening?”
The guy pushed me off. “Damn, this bitch is strong.”
“That’s perfect,” the driver said. “She’s better than the weaker one.”
I lunged at him again, but he punched me in the face.
Melanie continued to slip away. “Oh my god…oh my god.” She gripped the handle of the door and just sat there, as if she were hallucinating.
I grabbed the door and tried to open it, feeling my mind begin to slip away, the strength in my extremities fading. The door was locked, so I couldn’t get it open. So, I slammed my arm into the window over and over, trying to break through it.
“Jesus, did you give her enough?” The driver swerved slightly when I kicked the back of his seat.
“Yes,” the passenger yelled. “I don’t know what the fuck this bitch is doing.”
I tried to hit the window again, but I couldn’t. My strength left me, and I slumped in the seat, unable to do anything other than look out the window and watch the lights pass as we continued our drive. People on the sidewalk had no idea of the duress in the car, enjoying their beautiful night in this glorious city.
“It’s kicking in,” the passenger said. “We’re fine.”
I tried to fight my eyes’ urge to close, but I was losing the battle. My eyelids closed, and my body suddenly relaxed in the seat. The last thing I heard was the voice of my sister as she whispered to me.
“I’m so sorry…”
2
French Alps
Vibrations shook my body, a bump making my frame rise slightly from the surface before it thudded back down once more. I was vaguely aware of the cold, of the way my lungs hurt with every breath I took because the air was so dry. Sunlight was on my face, but it didn’t mask the chill that froze every single extremity of my body.
As I came into consciousness, I was vaguely aware of the last time I was awake. My eyes had opened to a dark room, two moth-eaten mattresses on the floor. My sister was on the other mattress, still passed out from the drugs. When the men realized I was awake, their approaching legs came into view. I wasn’t strong enough to fight the needle they injected into my arm. I was pulled under again.
But now I knew I was in a different place.
I tried to move my body, and that was when I realized my wrists were bound together. My legs moved next, and they were in the same predicament, my ankles tied together with rope so thick that I would never be able to rip through it.