Loneliness. Emptiness.
She would be left with her thoughts, and the memories of what happened. She felt like she'd been hit by a train.
And the only thing that would cure it, or at least numb it, was a stiff glass of whiskey.
She headed straight for the liquor cabinet and took out a bottle of Jack Daniel's, pouring herself a generous glass. Nicky's apartment was dark, save for a lone lamp which cast a dim orange glow through the living room. The light was soft and warm, flickering off the walls.
She'd been living here for the past two years, and she was still surprised each time she stepped into the apartment. The walls were painted a warm honey tone, and the furniture was a step-up from the old discount furniture she'd had in her early twenties. A floor-to-ceiling bookcase was filled with textbooks. But her favorite part was the huge window that looked out to the skyline of Jacksonville, Florida. Nicky took a sip and looked out over the city.
An image of Frank Reese’s deranged, snake-like face flashed in her mind.
She wished she could've stopped him, but she'd been too late. But only by a hair. If Nicky had arrived earlier, maybe Masie would still be alive. All the possibilities of things she could have done differently swam through her mind. She could have been faster. She could have been sneakier.
The only thing she was thankful for was that this guy would never hurt anyone again. He was dead. Nicky would be lying if she said he didn’t deserve it.
She put the glass to her lips and took a deep breath, feeling the alcohol burn her throat. She’d called in the crime scene and the dead body, and she was damn glad to be out of there. And now, there was nothing she could do anymore. She could never get back what this sicko had taken from the world. A year-long investigation had been nothing but a waste.
Masie would never be back.
Nicky gulped down the rest of the glass. Where the hell was her happy place now?
Twisting the cap off the bottle, she poured another shot and settled on the leather couch, staring at the off TV, but not seeing it--her mind was too busy processing. The booze only burned the pain away; it didn't stop it. She put her glass on the coaster of her glass coffee table.
Nicky's gaze fell onto her cell phone.
She'd left it on silent after she'd called in the murder. Then it was hours spent debriefing at HQ. Now, finally, she was home. But she still felt trapped in that cottage.
Her psychiatrist, Dr. Graham, had told Nicky it was unhealthy to bottle up her emotions; she needed to let them out sometimes. What he really felt like she needed were more friends, more people Nicky could talk to outside of work, but the truth was that Nicky liked to keep her personal life private. It was just easier this way. She socialized with the people she worked with, even went out for drinks with them sometimes, and that was good enough.
Wanting a distraction, she opened her cell and checked her notifications. A text from her mom. A couple of emails.
And one message request on her messenger app. She frowned and opened it up.
It was Matt Haynes.
Nicky hadn't heard from Matt in ages. They grew up in the same small West Virginia town. Thinking about it brought Nicky back to her teen years. The summer heat, watching the sunset as she drank with her friends--Matt included.
They’d all had dreams of escaping.
Nicky dreamed of being an FBI agent. Matt's dream was a little more simple--he wanted to leave home. He wanted to see the world. Nicky wanted to see the world too... but she thought she'd be seeing it while doing her job, not while backpacking across the globe.
That was one thing about Matt--he was always a little over-the-top, but he was never dull. He managed to get into trouble more than anyone Nicky knew, but he was always charming enough to get out of it.
She thought about what Matt had said when she'd last seen him, all those years ago, when they were both eighteen, at high school graduation.
He'd kissed her on the cheek and told her goodbye, but that he'd see her again someday.
Damn, she'd missed him. But she hadn't forgotten him.
Nicky opened the message.
Hey, Nicky. When you've got a moment, can we talk? I'm in your area and I'd love to catch up.
Nicky hesitated.
Of course part of her had missed Matt. Missed her old life and the people she used to know.
But her life was unrecognizable now. Now, she hunted kidnappers for a living. Saved girls' lives. Or tried to, anyway. What would she and Matt have to talk about?