Chapter 32
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
nyx
Nineteen hours - that’s how long it took to get back to the US.
We flew into Chicago and had to wait another three hours until our flight to Seattle.
So far, so good – no disruptions. We're currently scattered throughout the queue waiting to get off this stuffy, overcrowded and loud plane, and tiredness aches deep in my bone marrow. But I can’t help the wicked smile that stretches across my face when Noc snakes his hands around my waist, pulling me in close to him.
I can feel him hardening against my back.
The man has been insatiable since he basically proposed to me in the airport.
The changing room, the bathroom before the flight, and the bathroom during the flight.
It was almost as if we were trying to rewrite our history in that short time, right our wrongs, make up for all the lost time we had over the years apart.
The years he was out there protecting me, seeking vengeance for his father – though not in the way Graves tarnished it to be.
My heart feels so enormously full, despite everything that’s happened.
Like there’s pressure bound to it, fingers caressing the edges every time it beats.
Instead of gripping like an ice-cold vice, bleeding unease, it feels like Noc’s hand is gently letting it rest inside his palm, bearing the weight, and letting it heal.
And I savor that feeling a little while longer, because I know as soon as we step off this flight, the harsh reality is going to slap worse than the bitter chill of the wind.
We're the last of our unit to step towards the plane’s threshold.
My eyes swim across the tarmac, and I freeze, my cemented feet cause Noc to poke his phone into my back.
The guys are being pulled aside ahead of us, a sea of tactical gear spread at the bottom of the stairway.
Fuck. Graves has evidently gotten ahead of us.
I step back, pulling him with me as he pockets the phone, and my eyes shift past his shoulder.
Two National Guardsmen are stepping through the rear exit of the plane.
“Go, it's fine,” he says. My eyes dart back to him, wide enough that I’m surprised my eyeballs don’t roll out from the sockets.
Noc sounds a hell of a lot calmer than I feel.
The panic I’m usually competent in controlling is slipping through my sweaty fingers, more so because of the fear that’s now raging inside me for him.
They think he's dead, and hostile. He could be separated from me, probably executed and dumped in an unmarked grave.
I can only imagine the tale Graves has spun to get here unscathed.
His warm grip snatches my hand, my eyes find his again, and there's not an ounce of fear in his darkened iris when I search for it.
“We've got a few promises to fulfil, Nyx. Neither of us are going anywhere.” His use of my code name is exactly what I need. To stir and awaken the deity I was named after. The chaos of the night who doesn’t falter nor bow for anyone, except her king.
Hand in hand with my very own god of darkness.
I lock everything down, stepping down the stairway - my mind, my heart and my emotions.
I keep my head held high as I see General James and the Director of Special Ops, Major Burrows, standing at the bottom to meet us.
James speaks first, his face paling as he looks at Noc, then me, then our interlinked hands.
He gives a slight shake of his head when his eyes come back to me, and they're full of disdain.
“I don't know what the hell you were thinking, Nyx, but you two have some explaining to do. One,” he glares at Noc.
“You'll tell me how your corpse isn’t lying at the bottom of a Russian river, and Two.” His eyes dart back to mine.
“You'll fully explain why you're holding the hand of the man that killed our previous General, your own mother.” His inhale is so strong, I’m surprised neither of us are swept up by it.
“And then, the two of you will be taking a trip.”
My mouth forms an O, my words shunted as Noc beats me to it.
“You'll find everything you need to know in the file that each of us have in our bags, General. And don’t worry, if you lose them, there's plenty of backups. Along with a trusted friend, who'd be more than happy to release them again, should anything happen to anyone in this unit.” The wind bites against my face, but it does nothing to cool the burn that’s flushed its way to my cheeks.
The way Noc just spoke down to the General sends a wicked thrill through me.
He is technically a ghost, and Noc also still seems to do whatever the fuck he wants.
James’s eyes narrow, darting between the both of us, like he can’t decide who to tear into first. The wariness seeps from him at Noc’s bold statement. My eyes however, mirror James’s in a different way. And I wonder, just who the hell else knows about this that he hasn't told me about?
We’re all led to a room underneath the airport, one out of sight of the humming crowds of civilians above.
Chairs are all lined up against a musty corridor wall for each of us to sit in and wait.
James and Burrows are currently interviewing us individually, leaving Noc and I until last – he’s obviously deemed us the ringleaders.
There's six military personnel spread across the walls like a fortress, guns poised in their grip, ready to shoot any of us who make a wrong move. The end of the hall is positioned with the National Guard who brought the rest of them in. This part of the terminal is locked down as if a terrorist group has breached the country, and I don’t miss the irony that the real one has likely slipped through their fingers, using us to buy him some time.
Seeing as his plans to exterminate his unit with a car bomb failed.
Rhaine is before me and, just like everyone else, she's led straight into the room across the hall from the one she was interrogated in.
Storing us all there like a bunch of cattle ready for slaughter.
I rub my hands on my leggings - the first nervous twitch I've allowed since Noc straightened me out on the plane. And he does it again, his arm reaches out to rest my head on his shoulder, placing a kiss on my crown. The soldier monitoring us twitches at the movement. Noc’s laugh brushes over the top of my hair, making the strands tighten at my scalp at his deathly tone.
“I fucking dare you.” The threatened soldier takes one look at him, and even though he's the one with the power in this situation, he looks slightly unnerved.
He's likely aware of Noc’s reputation - I don't know a single person in the base that isn’t.
His character will likely carry on like a myth throughout the years.
The now familiar creek of a door scrapes against my inner ear, and I sit up and look to my right.
Burrows's silhouette is taking up the space, his expression grim. It's been four hours we've been here, I can only imagine the probing that’s gone on. Their tactics are designed to wear a person down. But not us; we’re perfectly willing to give over this information. Burrows calls my name, but I’m not leaving Noc out here alone.
The fact he’s been left for last is already suspicious enough for me.
I fold my arms across my chest in defiance, earning me a raised brow.
“I'm not going in without him. I'm many things, Burrows, but stupid doesn't even touch my profile.
Either he's with me, or you can take me on my little trip early.” I feel Noc fossilize against my arm for a second, but his demeanor is otherwise at total ease to anyone else looking at him.
Legs splayed wide, shoulders relaxed, and his arm fanned across the chair behind me.
The epitome of a man unbothered by the potentially life-threatening environment he's found himself in.
Burrows goes to say something, but it's James's voice that bounces off the walls from the interior of the room, “Bring them both in.” Burrows jaw tightens, his gaze shoots to the other room, and a flick of his fingers to usher us both in is his only command. I rise with Noc glued to my rear, his hand protectively on the small of my back all the way in, until we’re seated in the two seats at the desk.
James leans his elbows on the desk, one hand rubbing his brows in a tedious rhythm as he stares down at the files.
All our phones that were confiscated when we were searched on the tarmac are spread in a line above the scattered paperwork.
Burrows drops down into his seat, his brows never breaking from a scowl as he takes in Noc.
Who again, is lounging in his seat like he has all the time in the world for this.
His arm stretches to rest behind me. He draws his index finger up and down my spine, and part of me wants to scream at how the hell he's so fucking cool with all this. I’m fighting an internal war to keep my mouth shut.
“I’ve heard this story, and read these documents, five times now,” James pulls out the beige folder that has Noc’s name printed on it from the bag the guard took.
“So please, for the love of all that is holy…
Tell me why I should believe that Graves is the mastermind behind all of this?
That you haven't spent the last four years meddling with a file in the hopes of one day coming back here, Nocturne?
And God knows how long you've been warping her mind? Just like you did with her mother. You all had plenty of time to rehearse this. And my patience is running extremely fucking thin.”