Page 226 of Nyx

I feel the loss of his touch the second he drops his hands, and as geared up as I was to confront him about what we are or where we're going as two people, I know that's a conversation that's going to have to wait just a little longer. I did feel better to find him bringing me coffee rather than ghosting.

I pull in a deep breath, releasing it slowly as I turn around and grab my cup of coffee.

"Where?"

"Conference room," he says, heading for the door.

"Do I need anything?"

"I don't think so. Maybe your phone? Have you gotten any emails or texts that make you believe they came from Whitmore?"

I shake my head. "The only digital contact I know of was the music app issue."

"Max will have all that information for him."

"Okay," I say, stepping closer to the door. "Let's do this."

The hallway seems too short, only a couple dozen feet from my bedroom to the area where the agent is waiting. With little to no time to prepare for this happening, I feel like I have a bullseye on my chest. My experience dealing with law enforcement and the prosecutor's office back home after Graham stabbed me doesn't exactly give me a lot of confidence in any form of judicial person or investigator.

Being called a perpetrator in court doesn't allow for much faith in anyone when a criminal act has been committed.

My eyes scan the room. Kincaid and Max are the two faces I know. Colton, the detective who is married to Kincaid's niece, is also in the room, along with another man I've never seen before.

"Good morning," Kincaid says in a way that tells me he's in full control here, despite the badges and guns the other men have. "You know Colton. This is Special Agent Mark Rankin with the FBI."

"Nice to meet you, Juliet," he says as he steps forward with his hand out.

I look to Kincaid, knowing that I'm okay when he dips his head at me.

Nyx promised we'd know whether this guy was safe, and it seems he is.

Relief washes over me as much as it can in this situation as I shake his hand.

"Nice to meet you," I say. "Where should I sit?"

"Wherever you feel most comfortable," Kincaid says.

"Maddox Crowe," Nyx tells the man as they shake hands.

I pause on my way to the seat I want and look back. I've never known his real name, and somehow it never mattered. My heart didn't care, and the realization makes me a little unsteady on my feet.

I choose a spot close to the door but not one that puts my back to it, pull out the rolling chair, and take a seat, placing my cup of coffee on the table. Nyx takes the spot right beside me, and I give him a gentle smile. He didn't even ask if he could be here. He just assumed the agent would be okay with it, but I know he would've argued if he had been asked to leave, and that kind of support gives a little more strength to deal with this entire situation.

I pull in yet another deep breath, but quickly realize, with the restriction in my chest, that I don't feel as comfortable as I'd like to, but this isn't about comfort. It's about taking a stand and giving all the facts, doing my part to make sure that Graham is never released and given the chance to come after me or hurt others in the process.

"I know it seems sudden to have to do this today," Agent Rankin says as he takes a seat across from me. "But it's best to get as many details as we can when it's fresh in someone's mind."

I want to argue that the memories aren't going anywhere, anytime soon, but I keep my mouth closed.

"Could you take me through the events of last night?" Agent Rankin asks after pressing a button on his phone to record the conversation, stating his name, the names of everyone else in the room, and a case number.

"Where should I start?" I ask. "From where Kayla told me her daughter was sick? Or the very beginning with my old life with Graham?"

I swallow as I wait for his answer, praying I don't have to go all the way back.

"I think for today, I'd like to know the recent events that led up to last night. Start with yesterday, and we can go through everything else another time."

I begin with finding Kayla in the hallway and continue with the story until the police showed up at the parking garage. He didn't interrupt or ask questions as I recalled the events.