Escape From Paradise (34 page)

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—”

“Yes,” the Agent stepped forward, and Colin bit back a feeling of annoyance as he stepped back. “Angela, I’m sure Agent Douglas has work to attend, and a debriefing to give. Your parents and I will be here—”

“Mr. Douglas,” Angela called. He’d already begun making his way to the door, but he turned at the sound of her voice. “You’ll be back?” So much hope and fear in those words. It stabbed at him. He knew this thing between them, whatever it was, was not healthy, but he couldn’t tear himself away.

“I’ll be back,” he promised. “You’re safe here.”

Agent MacDonald pursed her lips at him and made a motion toward the door, like he was a parent reluctant to leave their child and dragging out the separation anxiety. He shot her a glare in return. He’d let himself be pushed away by Angela or her parents, but not this woman. With one last nod to Angela and her frightened, lost eyes, he turned to go. On the way out, Angela’s mother touched his forearm and gave him a tender look of appreciation before returning her attention to her daughter.

Nobody should have to go through what this family was experiencing. Vengeance rose like a thick bramble through his torso and limbs, scraping his flesh from the inside. He needed to do something. Stop others from this kind of suffering.

He needed to kill Fernando.

Everything felt wrong. Like a strange dream. My parents—
my parents!
—wore constant smiles, expressions which were at odds with the turmoil I felt every minute. I so wanted to be happy, too. In the far reaches of my mind I knew how I should be feeling, but I wasn’t quite capable of reaching it.

Especially when Mr. Douglas was out of my sight.

Mom showed me to the restroom to shower and closed the door for me. A flare of panic, like I was going to get in trouble, burned across my skin as I stared at the closed door and then swung my head around at the bathroom.

Alone. Private.

I began to shake as I backed into the wall and slid down, holding myself at the middle. Overwhelming gratitude for this moment of privacy shook my body.

I was allowed to be alone. There were probably no cameras, and I could do whatever I wanted! Not that I wanted to do anything, but still! God, I’d never wanted to kiss a bathroom floor before that moment.

Through the entire shower, I trembled, peeking now and then around the curtain to see the door still closed. Afterward I dressed in a pair of jeans and a soft cotton shirt. They were too big, but I remembered them from my old life. Another tsunami of nostalgia rushed me, threatening tears in its wake. How long had it been since I wore jeans? Or a shirt that was solely for the purpose of comfort? Or underwear that actually covered my ass?

Mom was waiting for me, watching from a nearby room. I knew she was trying not to suffocate me, but she couldn’t help herself. She looked hesitant and timid, so I held out my hand and the doubt left her face.

I found myself constantly looking for Mr. Douglas, and feeling a heady flood of relief and excitement whenever I heard the rumble of his voice from a nearby room, or when I caught a glance of him walking past. Each time I had to restrain myself from calling out for him or running to him.

And we were only two hours into the first morning.

I’d put off talking to Agent MacDonald as long as I could. She’d been a force looming over me all morning, watching from doorways with those inspector eyes, silently rushing me. Mom had taken to glaring at the woman over her shoulder, but the Agent was unperturbed. Clearly, she’d wait all day. As much as I didn’t want to talk to her, I also wanted to get it over with so she could leave.

When I finally approached she said, “Aye, good. Let’s talk in the office.”

The office wasn’t much more than a desk with a lamp, and some miscellaneous boxes, as if the man who lived here had never fully settled in.

Agent MacDonald motioned for me to sit across from her at the desk, and I stiffened as her eyes bore into me. I wished she wasn’t so beautiful and intimidating. I felt like a filthy little creature in baggy clothes. She set a tape recorder on the desk and hit record. I thought people were supposed to ask permission to do that. But maybe that was only in movies. I probably would have just told her yes anyway.

She twined her fingers and placed them on the notepad in front of her. “How are you feeling this morning, Angela?”

How to explain? I felt a little of everything. Every minute a different strong emotion would hit.

“I’m…I don’t know. Okay.”

“Okay,” she repeated. “I imagine the abrupt change of lifestyle would be quite confusing to the system, aye?”

“Yes,” I whispered.

She gave me a small, therapist smile. “Your parents love you very much. I’m sure you missed them.” Her comments were leading, even demanding, and it made me want to pull back, be more careful.

“I did…” My voice trailed off and she cocked her head to the side, eyeing me. My heart rate kicked up at the dominance of her personality, and I found myself spilling information I had no intention of telling anyone. My voice broke. “I missed them at first, but after a while I had to stop thinking about them. It hurt too much, and I never thought I’d see them again.”

This revelation seemed to please her and she relaxed a little. I thought therapists were supposed to be gentle and kind. This lady seemed like she was not above using torture techniques to get people to talk.

“Does that make you feel a bit guilty seeing them?”

I dropped my eyes. “Yes.”

“And perhaps a bit undeserving and inadequate?” she asked.

“Yes,” I whispered. I couldn’t look up.

“That’s all normal to feel. I assure you. And it will pass, Angela. There may be times in your life where you still feel remnants of those emotions, but they will not always have the power they do at this moment.”

I chewed my lip and nodded. I wished I could skip right over all these emotions. I didn’t believe they’d ever leave me. How could I be good enough for anyone again? They’d never know me, the real me, because I’d never tell them all I’d done and seen. I felt like I could never be close to someone again.

“Was there anyone who you came to care for during your time of captivity? Anyone who, perhaps, befriended you?”

My sweet Josef. Oh, no. What would happen to him? And Perla and the other girls? Tears slid down each of my cheeks and I quickly swiped them, the familiar feeling of paranoia rising enough to dry my ducts.

“The other slaves. There were five of us. We couldn’t talk…I mean, not really. Not about anything important. But they were my friends.”

Don’t cry anymore,
I chanted to myself as Agent MacDonald scratched something on her pad of paper.

“I know this is going to be difficult, Angela, but I need as much information as you can possibly give me about what happened from the moment you were taken to the moment you were rescued. Can you do that for me? This kind of information will aid our organization to help others in similar predicaments.”

My abdomen twisted at the thought of regular people knowing these things about me.

“You’ll be sharing this?” I hated how small and timid my voice sounded. “I thought there might be some sort of client confidentiality or something.”

She smiled at me. “That’s the case for regular private psychologists, but since I work for the government I’m here to help you, and to also help us. In the end it’s a win-win for all. Will you help us?”

I nodded. “I…yes. Okay.”

I felt like I was in that room with her forever. I tried to tell the facts like they weren’t raw and real. I skimmed over the sexual acts, even when she pressed for more information. I didn’t want to tell those details to anyone. Ever. I gave her the information I thought would be useful to them—the stuff about how and where I was held. How they controlled me. The names of people who came in and out. She dug for every detail of my first days, wanting to know exactly how they’d broken me down. I started to feel faint by the end of our time, and I’d only skimmed the surface.

She was an avid listener, eating up the details with rapt interest, every now and then throwing in a compassionate expression.

I jumped at a knock on the door and turned to see Mr. Douglas peek his head in. A spasm of joy zipped through me. His cool eyes met mine and for that moment my breath caught as he held my gaze before blinking and looking at the other Agent.

“You’ve been in here awhile.”

Her lips pursed, displeased. “We’re making good progress, but we’re not finished, so if you don’t mind—”

“Agent Abernathy brought dinner. I suggest you stop for a bit and eat.”

The woman looked at her watch and her eyes widened in surprise. She glanced at me and reluctantly nodded. “We’ll continue this later. Thank you, Angela.”

I quickly stood, and went to the door he held open. I watched as he took in the full sight of me dressed as a regular American girl with no make-up, and a smile skimmed his lips. It disappeared when Agent MacDonald cleared her throat, coming to stand near us. She gave him a sharp look.