The Chateau

by Penelope Sky

  I looked up and stared at him, seeing the chiseled jawline that I’d kissed, the full lips that had kissed me in places besides my mouth. His shoulders stretched out the cotton of his shirt, and the veins that ran down his arms were like webs under the skin. I’d only seem him outside his uniform once—when he was naked. But seeing him in sweatpants and under a roof different from a cabin made him look like a normal person.

  Like we were normal people.

  The fire cracked and popped in the hearth beside us, keeping us so warm it practically felt like summer. “What happened?”

  He kept his eyes on his food. “Not sure. I was unconscious for a few days.”

  I cringed and looked back into my bowl, feeling guilty for what I’d done.

  “The search party gave up after a couple days. They think you may have crossed the river, but if you did, you got wet, and if you got wet, you wouldn’t survive for more than an hour.”

  That was true. I almost didn’t survive. “Did they suspect you?”

  “No. But they did give me shit about it, for covering your ass when you stabbed me in the back.”

  It offended me, because nothing could be further from the truth. I was loyal to him. The only reason I’d struck him was because he forced me to.

  “They said they hope I learned my lesson.”

  “Have you ever helped another prisoner escape?”

  He stilled at the question, his spoon going stationary in the bowl. Then he lifted his gaze to look at me, his eyebrows slightly raised in subtle perplexity. He never answered, like it was a stupid question. Then he returned to eating, dismissing my question like I hadn’t asked it.

  “Then why me?”

  He kept his eyes down on his food. “Does it matter?”

  “You saved my life. It does matter.”

  He finished the bowl until it was empty. He set it aside, farther away on the rug. Then he lifted his knees and rested his elbows on top, his gaze on the fire. His eyes were the same color as the firewood, the pieces that didn’t burn with red embers. “You deserved better.”

  “Why didn’t the others deserve better?”

  He shrugged. “Because they don’t act like it. They accepted their fate. From the first day you arrived there, you never did. You were always out of place. You were always the prisoner we talked about. Once you told me how you got there, it made me realize you weren’t supposed to be there in the first place.” His eyes stayed on the flames, as if he were reliving every single moment in his mind.

  “The other women don’t deserve to be there either. They keep their heads down because they’re smart. It’s not because they’re weak,” I thought of Bethany, who plotted with the girls to get me food. “They’re brave in ways the guards don’t notice. My life isn’t more valuable than theirs. Every single person there deserves to live their life freely.”

  He turned his head to regard me. “Let’s get something straight. There’s nothing you can say to make me feel sympathetic to the rest of the women in that camp. Even if they were liberated, a new batch would arrive to replace them. That camp has been there for ten years, and it’ll be around for decades to come. I’m a hero in your story, but I’m still the villain in theirs.” He turned back to the fire, his eyes shifting slightly as he watched the flames dance, following their movements until they popped. But he didn’t flinch at the sound. “Be grateful that I helped you. But don’t expect more from me.”

  I was disappointed because I did expect more from him. There was still a soul deep inside that hard chest, humanity the other guards didn’t possess. He had potential—even if he didn’t see it. “You aren’t like the others.”

  “Doesn’t mean I’m like you.”

  I stared at the side of his head, his handsome face illuminated by the brilliance of the fire. His beautiful complexion looked angelic in the light. “You can pretend not to have a heart, but I know you have one…a big one.”

  He turned back to me, his eyes cold despite the warmth hitting him in the face. “You don’t know me.”

  “I disagree.” I knew him in a way no one else did. His heroic actions were done in secret, so they weren’t for show. He’d freed me at great cost. He’d stuck his neck for me, stuck it into the noose of the Red Snow. “What is your purpose there? Everyone has a place—except you.”

  He turned away and didn’t answer.

  “Why won’t you tell me?”

  “Because I don’t owe you anything. You’re the one indebted to me. So, I suggest you thank me for what I’ve done instead of interrogate me—”

  “I’m just trying to get to know you—”

  “Why?” He looked at me again. “After I drop you off, you’ll never see me again.”

  I expected us to part ways without obligation to each other. But I still expected more from him. “I’m going to go to the police when I get home… You know that, right?”

  He stared at the fire.

  “So, if you get out now, you’ll save yourself. I’m trying to help you.”

  “Yes, I know exactly what you’ll do. Go ahead.”

  Was I missing something here? “Why does that not scare you?”

  “Because you have no idea how the world really works.” He clenched his jaw slightly, like this conversation annoyed him the longer it continued. “I suggest you go home and live your life. Be grateful every single day that you survived something no one else ever has. Honor those you left behind by living life to the fullest. That’s my advice. Go to the police if you want—but it won’t make a difference.”

  “If you think I’m not going to try to free those women, then you don’t know me very well.”

  “Then try. If it’ll clear your conscience and help you sleep at night, then do it.”

  Even as a free woman, I was starting to feel powerless. Magnus was getting me to safety, but he didn’t have any concerns about the consequences of that action. It would never come back and bite him in the ass.

  Maybe I really didn’t understand what I was dealing with.

  “We’ll leave tomorrow. Sleep on the floor if you want—but there are beds upstairs.” He got to his feet and picked up his bowl.

  I stayed in front of the fire.

  He walked away into the kitchen.

  I stared at the flames for a moment longer before I went after him.

  He rinsed out his dish then left it in the bottom of the sink. “How are we getting there? There’s no car.”

  “Horse.”

  “All the way to Paris?” I asked incredulously. I had no idea where I was, but I knew we were nowhere near the city.

  “To the place where I store my car.”

  “And what will happen to the horse?”

  “I’ll leave her there until I come back.”

  “Are you going to return to the camp with two horses?”

  He turned around and leaned against the counter as he stared at me. “Why are you asking so many questions about this?”

  “Because I don’t want Rose to go back. And if you do bring her back, they’ll know you helped me. So, what are you planning to do with her?”

  He shrugged. “Not sure.”

  I loved that horse and felt weird parting with her. She was my friend. “Can I keep her?”

  He regarded me with a cold stare. “You said you live in an apartment.”

  “I can rent her a place with a stable.”

  “That’s expensive.”

  I didn’t have much money to begin with. “I just…can’t say goodbye.”

  He pushed off the counter with his hips and sighed. “What if I keep her?”

  “This is no place for a horse. There’s no fence.”

  “I have other residences.”

  Residences? As in plural? “Do you already own horses?”

  He nodded.

  “But then I’ll still never see her…”

  “But you’ll know she’s taken care of. Isn’t that enough?”

  Rose had carried me away from that terrible
place and got me to safety. She became my friend. I didn’t want her to be sold to some stranger, I didn’t want her to return to the camp, I wanted her to have a good life…with lots of oats. “You’ll take good care of her?”

  He nodded. “I will.”

  “Okay.” I turned back to the foyer, still unable to believe that I was leaving tomorrow. I should be more excited, but I started to fear what he had said, that there was nothing I could for the others.

  He came up behind me and headed to the stairs. He stopped and turned to me, like he knew I had something else to say.

  “My sister…” I knew I couldn’t ask him for anything, not after everything he’d already done for me. I should just be grateful I’d escaped. Melanie got us into this mess in the first place, so it was entirely her fault. But her mistake didn’t deserve an eternal punishment. She didn’t deserve to belong to someone else, to be an animal in a cage. “Please.”

  “How dare you ask me that, after everything I sacrificed for you.” He stared me down coldly, no longer looking at me the way he used to, like there was always a subtle hint of affection behind his cold stare. But that whisper of warmth was nowhere to be found.

  “She’s my sister. I can’t just go back to life and forget about her.”

  “You’re going to have to.”

  “Please—”

  “No.” He raised his voice, the sound reverberating off the walls. “Don’t ask me again.”

  20

  Paris

  We left the chateau on horseback.

  I sat behind him on Rose, and we made the trek down the path, moving through the countryside in a direction only he seemed to know. We hadn’t said much to each other after our contentious conversation the night before.

  My feelings toward him were conflicted. On the one hand, he was the man who saved me, he was the man who risked everything to get me out of there, who had goodness inside his soul when the others didn’t. But on the other hand, he wouldn’t do more than that. He would return to that cabin like nothing happened.

  After a few hours in the countryside, we approached a small house. It was a single story, almost like a shack, and it had a small stable there. There was a garage, where his car must be hidden. He put Rose in the stable then grabbed his backpack.

  I stared at her, knowing I would never see her again. “Thanks for everything, Rose…” I stood in front of her and rubbed her snout, let her lick my face like she knew this was goodbye. It was hard to turn away, but I managed to do it.

  How did I become so attached to something I barely knew?

  Magnus watched me, his eyes kind, his human side coming out for the first time since he’d arrived at the chateau. “She’s in good hands.”

  I looked up at him and gave a slight nod.

  He walked ahead, passed the front of the house, and then opened the garage.

  Inside was a black Bugatti.

  I stilled at the sight of it.

  He wasn’t just some guard at the camp.

  This guy had money—lots of it.

  He pulled out a piece of fabric from his backpack then walked toward me while holding it up.

  I stepped back. “Whoa, what are you doing?”

  “Blindfolding you.”

  “Why?”

  His eyes narrowed in annoyance. “You can’t know the way.”

  I didn’t want to sit in the car for hours without seeing anything, but he was right. That was exactly what I would do.

  “It’s nonnegotiable.”

  I didn’t want to return to the camp, so I stepped closer to him and sighed.

  He secured it around my face, making the material fall all the way to my nose so there was no chance I could get a peek of anything. Then he guided me to the passenger door.

  “You don’t think people are gonna call the police when these see a woman in the passenger seat blindfolded?” I reached for my safety belt and struggled to lock it into place. It took a couple tries before it clicked.

  “Tinted windows.” He shut the door.

  After the car came on, he pulled out of the driveway and then headed to the main road. Then we started the drive, the car smooth, like we were flying instead of driving down a country road. I was excited to go back home, but I also felt empty at the same time.

  Hours passed, and nothing was said.

  He didn’t turn on the radio or make conversation.

  I couldn’t believe I was sitting in a car with my former guard, taking a drive. The car didn’t make a single stop in that amount of time, so I knew we were far in the middle of nowhere, taking backroads through vast amounts of nothingness.

  “Is that chateau yours?”

  “Did you see anyone else there?”

  I rolled my eyes even though he couldn’t see me. I felt my eyelashes rub against the material covering my face. “It just looks like it’s fallen into ruin. A lot of things don’t work, and a whole exterior of it doesn’t seem to be cared for. So, did you just decide to squat in it?”

  “Squat?”

  “When you move in to an abandoned residence and make it yours.”

  “No…not a squatter.”

  “Then why did you buy it? You own a Bugatti, so you can afford something up to date.”

  “I didn’t buy it.”

  “Then…you stole it?”

  “Family heirloom.”

  “You inherited it?”

  He didn’t say anything.

  “How do you inherit something like that? Isn’t that something that belongs to old, aristocratic families?” There was no way he fit the bill, because he wouldn’t work at a labor camp processing and distributing drugs if that were the case.

  “What’s your address?” He dodged the question altogether.

  “Are we close?”

  “No. We still have hours to go.”

  I leaned my head back into the seat and groaned. “I’m gonna have to pee.”

  “Hold it.”

  The car returned to silence again.

  Minutes later, he spoke. “Got a boyfriend waiting for you?”

  I turned my head at the question even though I couldn’t see him. “Would I have slept with you if that were the case?”

  “There are no rules when you’re a prisoner.”

  I stared forward again. “You have a girlfriend?”

  “Do I look like the kind of guy to have a girlfriend?”

  “I don’t know. You don’t look like the kind of guy to save me…, but you did.”

  He didn’t have a response.

  “You said your mom passed away. What happened to your father?”

  “He ran off after Melanie was born.”

  There was a long pause. “I’m sorry.”

  “I’m not. We didn’t need his help.”

  “Did you ever see him again?”

  “Nope. What about you? Are your parents still around?”

  He never answered the question.

  “So, you can ask me whatever you want, but I can’t ask you anything?”

  “You can ask whatever you want. Doesn’t mean I’ll answer you.”

  I knew when we were in the city because of the sound of nearby cars, the constant braking, the honks from irritated drivers. “Are we in Paris?”

  “Yes.”

  I pulled the blindfold off since there was no reason to keep it on.

  Raindrops were on the windshield, pedestrians were on the sidewalk carrying their umbrellas, the sky was gray because the sun was low and the clouds blocked the light from coming through. We were on the street where my apartment was located.

  I took off the safety belt and sat up, my fingertips touching the cold window, my nose pressed against it because I couldn’t believe what was right in front of me. My favorite coffee shop passed by. “Oh my god…” My eyes filled with tears as the city’s glory hit me right in the face, the place that had become home the second I left the airport. Memories washed over me, of romantic dates that fizzled out after a short fling, of nights out
with my friends from school, quiet mornings when I went for a run before the streets and park were packed with people. My vision blurred from my tears, looking like the windows covered in raindrops.

  He stopped at a light.

  I faced forward and looked around, the Eiffel Tower in the distance.

  His head was turned my way, and he watched me, his gaze intense, like he was absorbing my reaction so it would be a memory for him to replay on a lonely night. He’d given this to me—and it obviously meant something to him.

  I covered my mouth to hold in my sobs, to force my lungs to relax instead of gasping for air.

  The light changed, and he moved forward again.

  A moment later, he pulled over to an available spot—right in front of my apartment.

  I pushed the door open and immediately stepped into the light rain, my hands out to receive the water, to let the rain wash away the memory of my heartache. It washed away my bruises and scars, washed away the former life that had been hell.

  I fell to my knees on the sidewalk and pressed my hands against the wet concrete, unable to believe this was real. The passersby glanced at me but continued on their way.

  A hand moved under my arm and gently pulled me upright.

  My hand immediately grabbed his, and I pulled him up the steps to the main door.

  My name was still there, like I hadn’t been evicted. I took the stairs to the third floor, pulling him with me the entire way, my hair and clothes wet from the rainfall. I made it to my front door and saw envelopes in the crack underneath the door. I grabbed one and opened it.

  It was a reminder that my rent was late.

  That meant my stuff was still inside, exactly where I left it.

  I tried the door, but it was locked. “Shit…” All the things I had with me had been confiscated when I was abducted.

  Magnus pulled something out of his pocket and opened the door easily, like it was a universal key.

  I didn’t ask questions before I walked inside.

  Dishes were still in the sink, the smell noticeable because they’d been sitting there forever. The light over the kitchen table was still on. My laundry was on the edge of the couch with the laundry basket on the floor. I grabbed a shirt and brought it to my chest, feeling my old clothes in my fingertips. I dropped it and explored the rest of the place as if Magnus weren’t following me. “Everything is still here…” I took the stairs to the second floor, to the office where I did all my work.