Angel leaned over and whispered, “They can’t take their eyes off you, honey.”
“I guess it’s that I’m a stranger.”
“No, I’m pretty sure it’s the legs and ass in those short-shorts.”
“Oh, God. Why did you make me wear this?”
“Look at Crash.”
She did. His eyes were on her, too. “He looks angry.”
“He looks hungry.”
They reached the top of the stairs, and Angel led her down a dark hallway, they passed door after door. The top half of each door had a window of frosted glass with old gold lettering on it. Each door held a different designation. Accounting, Purchasing, Engineering, etc. These must have been the original offices from when this place was a manufacturing company, Shannon surmised.
Angel paused in front of the last door on the right. The gold lettering read, Vice President. She opened the door, and they walked in. There was a brick wall to her left with old multi-paned manufacturing windows set up high. A bed was against that wall with bedside tables and lamps. On the right was a desk and some shelving, straight ahead was another door.
“Bathroom is through there,” Angel instructed, pointing toward that door.
“Thanks.” Shannon moved toward it.
When she came back out, Angel was sitting on the bed. “This is where Cole brought me the day after he saved me.”
Shannon sat on the bed facing her. “I remember the day I met the two of you.”
Angel nodded. “When Cole and Crash pulled you from that van.”
Shannon nodded back. “Yeah. But later, when they took us to that other place-”
“The Dead Souls Clubhouse,” Angel filled in the detail. “How have you been doing with it all?”
Shannon shrugged. “I still get panic attacks sometimes.” She looked up at Angel. “You talked to us that day and told us what had happened to you. I remember thinking how strong you seemed. How are you doing with it all? You’d been through so much more than I had to go through. I’m embarrassed I’m even struggling with it still after all this time. You seem fine and so happy.”
“I am, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t have issues. When I was first with Cole—well he just made me feel so safe, like he wasn’t ever going to let anything ever hurt me again. He got me through it by just being there for me.”
Shannon nodded. “I could tell, even then, how much he cared for you.”
Angel looked at her. “But then—when I got home—well, I sort of fell apart. I saw a counselor for a while, and Natalie was there for me. She helped me a lot.” She paused to smile. “And then I had the babies, and I didn’t have much time to feel sorry for myself. That was probably the best therapy.” She shrugged. “And once Cole was back in my life—I’ve never been happier.”
“Good. I’m happy for you,” Shannon offered.
Angel studied her. “So, you’ve had panic attacks?”
Shannon looked down and nodded.
“Did you get any counseling?”
Shannon shook her head. “No. Cole swore us to secrecy. I couldn’t say I suddenly needed a counselor. My parents would have asked what for. For an attack and abduction that wasn’t supposed to have ever occurred?”
“I see your point,” Angel agreed. “How are you and Crash getting along?”
“He pretty much hates me. He thinks I’m nothing but a stuck-up, spoiled brat who doesn’t know anything about anything.”
“I’m sure that’s not true.”
“Oh, it’s true. He thinks I’m a bitch. You missed it, but he just named a drink after me. He called it a Blue-eyed Bitch.”
Angel couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m sorry. I’m not laughing at you. But, even you have to admit, that’s pretty funny.”