The ten-minute drive down to the police station was the longest ride I had ever taken in my life.  I had spent months on a tour bus and traveled thousands of miles across the states and back, but no stretch of road had ever felt as long as this one. 

Left. Right. Right. Left. Right. Left.

Two stop signs, three traffic lights, and six turns to the station from Cameron's house. I could close my eyes and drive there in my sleep.

Cam turned the steering wheel to pull into the parking lot and frowned when the truck tires slipped a little on the ice at the entrance. He had been complaining about his truck tires and various mechanical issues on and off for a couple of weeks now. 

Poor Cameron wasn't catching any sort of a break. Everything was falling apart on him.

Cam drove around to the back of the building to park in his usual spot like he did every day.  It felt impossible to pretend that today was like every other one.

Cameron and I were called down to the station to discuss the investigation into Nathan's death and I didn't understand why. He didn't seem to know what was going on either. It was frightening to think that neither of us knew what we were here for.

What could we even offer them that they didn't already know? They had the tape. Was there something else they discovered? Did Nate have something else he was hiding to use against us? Could Cam get in trouble because he set Nathan up? Did Nathan really have proof?  Did the girl step forward and give a statement?

So many fucking questions. I wished my head would shut up and rest for a few seconds.

"Jess, it will be alright." Cameron had a worn look on his face.  He was trying to be strong for me. I could see his thoughts circling around his head too. He held my hand tightly in his and tried to reassure me.

I nodded at him.  If Cameron said we would be fine, then it had to be true. Cameron had been involved in investigations before that were very similar to this. He knew how these things worked. 

I went to climb out of the truck after Cam turned it off and ended up hunched over, yakking my guts out on a bush covered in a light dusting of snow.  My nerves were getting the best of me. I felt guilty for absolutely no reason and I had no fucking clue why.

"Rough morning?" Ron asked, walking up to me. He was wearing his uniform and sipping on a cup of coffee in his gloved hand. He looked ridiculous with a thick navy blue ear warmer on his head. 

"Sorry, I couldn't stop it. It just came out." I wiped the moisture from the side of my cheeks and reached back to grab my bag to get a piece of gum out so my breath didn't smell like day-old peanut butter and curdled milk.

"Ah, don't worry. It's normal." Ron shrugged it off.

"Everyone pukes when they're called in to talk to the police?" I raised my eyebrow. It made me feel a little bit better knowing that it wasn't just because I was mental.

"No, I meant throwing up is normal when..."

"Let's get you inside. It's freezing out here." Cam butted in before Ron could finish explaining. He walked around the truck and placed his hand on my back.

Ron jogged up to the station's back door to hold it open for us. As soon as I stepped foot into the warm building, the whole police department had their heads craned, watching us walk in. 

That couldn't be a good sign.

I searched each and every one of the gaping faces, trying to figure out how many of them had seen the tape.  The hypersexuality spells I had during my mania had led to a lot of incidents where I was exposed in odd places, but this felt much worse.  All of these people were Cameron's coworkers and some were even his friends. 

How uncomfortable was it going to be for Cameron to know all those people saw his girlfriend fucking another guy on camera?

Cameron laced his fingers in mine and led me towards an office on the other side of the building. It was on the opposite side of the room, which meant we had to pass all the other officers who were rubbernecking like they were watching a car crash happen right in front of their eyes.

"Hey, Nash." A couple of voices said in a muted tones like they were not sure if they should be talking to him.

Cameron gave them a small nod as he walked us over to a closed door. He knocked on the door once and I heard a voice call out that it was open.

"Sir, Jessa is here. Which room?" Cameron leaned into the office to ask the question.

"Go to 'C'. Fewer ears and eyes." A gruff voice replied.  The man's tone sounded commanding and terrifying, I caught a glimpse of him and he looked much worse than he sounded.  He was an extremely large, dark-haired guy with an enormous caterpillar mustache on his face.

I clutched Cam's hand tighter with both of mine like I was trying to snap him in half.  My body began moving and shifting on its own.  I was struggling to keep my composure.  All the eyes glowering at me probably thought I had some sort of nervous system disorder from all the twitching I was doing.

"Calm down, Jess. He is a good cop. I trust him." Cameron whispered in my ear as he walked us by a few mismatched desks and back towards the other side of the building.

If that guy was the good cop, I wondered how much worse the bad cop would be. 

I was already picturing the man shoving bamboo shoots up my nail beds and shocking me with a cattle prod while I screamed confessions to things I didn't do.

Cam opened a dark mahogany door and motioned for me to go in.  I was frozen and couldn't move. My heart was pounding in my chest and I felt like I was suffocating exactly like the night Nathan strangled me in the hotel room.  He was gone, but he still was finding a way to choke the life out of me.

"Sit down over here, darling." Cameron led me to a chair and pulled it out.  He stayed standing right behind me and rubbed my shoulders to help relieve some tension.

There was a shuffling sound near the door and the big man with the mustache walked in the room. I was surprised to see Ron follow in behind him and shut the door.  It seemed like a conflict of interest since he was my friend.

It took me a second too long to realize Cam wasn't kicked out of the room either. 

"What is going on?" I asked suspiciously as I met the eyes of each of the three men standing over me.

I wasn't that bright, but I knew the police didn't interrogate people this way normally.  At least they didn't on television, which had to be slightly factually accurate.

"Miss Miller, I am Police Lieutenant Mike Fallon." The guy said, reaching out his hand to me.  I took it and shook it meekly.  "Thank you for coming down to talk with me today."

"Mike, skip the pleasantries. What are we doing here? Why did you want to see Jessa?" Cameron stood up straight and whipped out his cop stance. 

He wasn't on the clock, but he was on duty.

"Miss Miller, can you explain to me what your relationship with Mr. Nathan Webster was?"  He asked.

"Nate was my manager for some time a couple of years ago." I chewed on my lip.  It was a terrible nervous habit that I should start learning to control.

"Did you have a sexual relationship with him?" He asked.

"Not that I feel it is any of your business, but we used to be involved." I could feel the stress lines crinkling on my face and I began sweating a little.

"When was the last time you saw him?"

"A few weeks ago.  He forced me to meet him at a motel." This was it. I knew what the next question would be even before he could ask it.

"Did you have sex with him that night?" Fallon asked.

Cameron's hand tightened on my shoulder. He was sending me a signal, warning me to stay in control. Bad Jessa was spitting venom through her teeth. She wanted to bite his ass for bringing us here. 

"I'm sure you saw the video. You know as much about that night as I do." I ground my teeth together.

"Yes, I have seen it. Did anything else happen that night?" He tapped his fingers in a slow rhythm on the table.

"I don't fucking remember." I snapped at him.

"Why can't you remember?" He countered and leaned forward in his seat.

"Nathan forced me to take some pills and snort something. I blacked out." I immediately regretted saying he made me do it the second it left my lips. 

"Are you saying he assaulted you?"

"No, I am saying I do not remember what happened. Look, I don't mind answering your stupid questions, but if you are going to keep badgering me when you clearly already know the answers, I think I should contact my lawyer before we discuss anything further." I felt like he was trying to back me into a corner.

"Miss Miller, I'm sorry if that is how I came across. I am only trying to do my job. I am not accusing you of anything. There is no need to contact your lawyer.   The only reason I am asking you about that night is because you were the last person to see Nathan Webster alive.  I am trying to figure out what state of mind he was in the last time you saw him."

"Why do you care about that? Shouldn't you be out there trying to find out how he died? Isn't that the whole point of having an investigation in the first place?" I asked harshly.

"We already know his cause of death. That's exactly why I am asking about his mental state." He replied.

"How did he die?" Cameron questioned from behind me.

"Nathan Webster committed suicide."