Page 29 of Nyx

I do my best not to let a sense of defeat settle inside me. Not offering me the job on the spot is a change for me. Most of the shelters I've been hired at tell me the same day if I've gotten the position.

"We know probably more than you'll ever realize just how many women have to lie to stay safe. We would never hold that against someone," Morrison adds.

"We'll be in touch soon," Diego says as he stands. He holds out his hand, indicating the interview is over. "Thank you for your time, Juliet. Emmalyn will be waiting outside to show you out."

I stand, shaking his hand. "Have a good day."

I open the door and step into the big room, smiling weakly as Emmalyn comes out of the room she disappeared into earlier, wiping her hands on a dish towel. I look past her, confirming that it is a kitchen, as I suspected earlier.

"Be safe getting home," she says as she walks beside me toward the door.

"Thank you," I tell her, stepping through the front door after she opens it.

I get in my car, not taking the time to check it like I normally would, wondering if the brick I feel is sitting on my chest will lighten after I leave.

Strangely, as I drive through the gates and exit the Cerberus property, I feel like it's harder to breathe than it felt while I was there.

I have no clue what that even means for me.

Chapter 9

Nyx

I watch in silence as Kincaid walks around the table and closes the door to the conference room.

"Tell me," he demands once it's closed, his eyes locked on Max.

I didn't miss the quick exchange they had earlier, and I knew whatever Max found wasn't going to be a typical domestic abuse charge in her past, not that there should ever be anything typical about domestic abuse on any level.

"It's fucking bad," Max says.

I shift my position when Kincaid looks up at the massive television on the wall so I can see what Max is presenting.

The headlines flash, and the information given is something out of a horror story meant for a movie, not something someone has lived through in real time.

"The ex-husband, Graham Whitmore, is a rich asshole with generations of East Coast family money," Max says. "Stabbed her twice, once in the stomach and once in the shoulder. She was pregnant with twins. They didn't make it."

I clench my fists under the table, my short fingernails digging into my palms.

I knew from watching her that she had been victimized, but I was hoping it was a stranger. Not that it's okay to be hurt by someone you don't know, but trauma seems to cling to a person when they've been hurt by someone who was supposed to love them, especially someone who vowed to protect them always.

"From what I can gather from court transcripts," Max continues. "His defense was that he didn't know she was pregnant, and her lie of omission caused the results. He claims he never would've been violent had he known about the babies."

"Such bullshit," Shadow mutters.

The court excluded the babies' deaths from the punishment because they did not consider them viable. They also ruled in a different hearing that since the hospital found both heartbeats prior to her surgeries, they couldn't exactly pinpoint the stabbing to fetal demise. The ambiguity of it was critical and won out in this case."

Silence fills the room. The link is right there. If she had a healthy pregnancy up to that point, then it's blatantly fucking clear that, at minimum, the trauma of being stabbed caused the deaths.

"People with fucking money get away with more shit than they ever should," Kincaid says as he sits back down, eyes still turned toward the television.

"And to add to how fucked up this all is," Max says. "The media turned on her. The story transformed from considering her a victim to making her look like a monster who was going to steal this guy's babies. He stabbed her when she tried to leave him. She had a hard time testifying in the bail hearing, and that's when things changed with the case."

"Always the victim's fault." Shadow scoffs.

"It was considered a crime of passion. He pled down to attempted voluntary manslaughter, aggravated assault causing great bodily injury, and felony domestic violence. The fetal homicide charges were dropped as part of the plea deal," Max explains. "He got fourteen years total. Eight years for count one, four years for count two with the aggravated enhancement, and two years for the domestic assault charge. The only good thing I can see that the judge did was a partial concurrent sentencing, but he's already out."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Kincaid snaps.