“How would you describe the overall conditions where she was held captive?”
“It was a fucking seaside mansion.” Her mouth quirked at his language, but he was certain she was a big girl, so he kept going. “She and all the slaves were kept very clean. I never saw the slave quarters, but I imagine they were pristine like the rest of the place. She wasn’t fed enough from what I saw, but—”
A shriek sounded from down the hall.
Colin ran, barely hearing the crash of his chair as it fell backward into the wall. Angela called his name, sounding panicked. He flew down the hall, narrowly avoiding a collision with her parents as they rushed from their room.
Colin swung open her door and she stood there in the middle of the room grasping at the printed dress he’d bought as they fled Spain. Her eyes were wild and confused.
“Mr. Douglas!” She stretched her arms out to him.
He went to her and she leaned her forehead against his chest, shaking, still clutching her dress. Colin took her by the shoulders. “It’s okay, Angela. You’re safe.”
Her parents came in and Colin stepped back to let them embrace her. His hand and arms ached.
“You fainted, honey,” her mom said. “And slept right through the night. You needed the rest.”
Colin felt another presence and looked to find Agent MacDonald watching the scene from the doorway, that bloody notebook in her hands. Once Angela calmed they all turned and saw her, as well.
She boldly stepped into the room.
“I’m Agent Deena MacDonald, a psychologist. I hope you don’t mind, but I’m here to speak with Angela and help with her transition. You must all be thrilled and relieved to have her back.” She smiled warmly at Angela’s parents, who both nodded and got teary-eyed, rubbing their daughter’s back.
Angela kept her eyes down. “May I take a shower?”
“Of course, baby,” her mom said. “We brought some of your clothes, too. We’ll go get the bags.”
Her parents bustled out, and Agent MacDonald stepped closer to Angela. The woman seemed to make her nervous. Fuck, she was starting to shake. Colin probably should have left the room long ago, but instead he found himself pushing past the other Agent to get to Angela and lead her back to the bed.
“You need to eat. Before you even shower.”
“I…” She sat and pulled her knees up, shivering.
“Don’t move. I’ll be back.” He left the room and cursed when he got to the kitchen. The cupboards were bare. He grabbed a package of opened butter biscuits and ran back to the room, hoping they weren’t too stale. “Here.” He placed them in her lap, but she made no move.
“Angela, you need to eat.”
She stared at them.
“Fuck.” Colin ran a hand over his hair, then dug his fingers into the package and pulled out a flaky biscuit. He brought it to her lips and she opened her mouth for him without hesitation. His chest swelled with an overwhelming gratitude and something else. Something he couldn’t name or understand. He shouldn’t have felt this way, but Christ, she was so obedient to him. It appealed to the very core of his nature, like she was giving him a gift, and he wanted to reward her.
She took dainty bites, being careful not to make crumbs. After the second was finished Colin caught movement in his peripheral and turned to see Agent MacDonald watching agape, and her parents in the doorway holding luggage. He dropped his hand and realized he was a right fucking mess. They both were.
“She’s…” He started to explain that she wasn’t accustomed to feeding herself in front of others, but he didn’t want to talk about her like she wasn’t in the room. Instead he turned his attention back to Angela. He pulled another biscuit from the package and put it in her hand, closing her fingers around it. Her eyes met his with hesitation and he nodded. Slowly, she brought the food to her mouth and ate.
“Darling,” Angela’s mother said to her father. “Can you bring a glass of water?”
Her father ran off and returned moments later, placing the glass in Angela’s shaking hand. She took a big drink and gave her parents a shy smile as they beamed in return. It was then that Colin stood to take his leave.
“Wait!” Angela pushed the biscuits aside and scrambled to stand as Colin stopped in the middle of the room, his heart working overtime. When she got to him she began to kneel, then caught herself midway and made an awkward movement to stand again. Her head stayed down and she wrung her hands.
“I’m not leaving,” Colin gently told her.
“I don’t know what to do,” she whispered.
Colin wanted to touch her. To hold her. But they were in a bedroom with her parents and a therapist. “There’s no pressure to do anything. Take your shower and relax. You can talk with Agent MacDonald if you like—”