The Blackout Girl ✔️

chapter eight

Chapter Eight

Kaytee was right; it was a long night for the unit. The FBI was packed full of those, but Nolan didn't mind the inconsistent hours. He liked feeling accomplished, even if it came at the expense of sleep.

The team didn't get out until ten o'clock, which wasn't the latest he'd left in the time he was there. He shouldered his messenger bag and headed for the elevators outside of the main room, hoping that Lexi was getting some rest downstairs. At least one of them might tonight.

He pressed the button for the lobby, but before the doors closed, Dre stuck his hand between the gap.

"Hold it!" he called out.

Nolan did, waiting for him to step inside.

Dre looked him over and chuckled. "You look like you could use a drink, Foster."

"I'm good," Nolan said.

"You sure? The bars are still open," Dre informed him.

"I'm still gonna pass."

"Tell you what, when this case is solved and filed, all of us are going out for tequila slammers until the room spins," Dre decided. "It'll be a team bonding experience. We can bring you into the family."

"I dunno," Nolan replied. "I'll think about it."

"You gotta live a little," said Dre, clapping him on the shoulder. "Let me know if you change your mind. Have a good night, man."

Dre headed off in the opposite direction, going for the parking garage adjacent to the Field Office. Nolan typically left his car down the street, close to his usual coffee shop. It was only a block away, and the trek was a short one.

He returned to his apartment and tried to get his mind off the murders. It felt impossible. Most of the time, he didn't have trouble separating his work life from his personal one, but lately, it felt like it was muddled together.

He took his nightly shower, washing away the remnants of the job. Even in the comfort of his favorite sweatpants, he still felt on edge, like he should be ready for anything. He was always prepared to be woken up in the middle of the night. The worst cases, the ones that were pressing and had little time to spare, were the ones that led to Price summoning the group at unholy hours. Because of this, Nolan never truly relaxed. Not completely, anyway.

His place was so quiet. He wasn't sure that was a bad thing. He was glad he didn't have annoying neighbors or constant disturbances, but he felt like there was an incompleteness. Dallas wasn't home yet, and he still felt like he was proving himself to the unit whenever he arrived at the office.

He tried to shake off the self-doubt. It wouldn't do him any good, and he had enough on his plate without his personal problems.

I'm the same old Nolan, he reminded himself. No matter where I am. I belong here. I belong with this team.

He was unconvincing, even with himself. It was another thing he had to work on.

He shook it off and reached for the paperback on his nightstand. With soft classical music playing from his radio and a good book, he found himself leaving the realm of worry for a temporary moment.

That night, he finished his current read and used the melodic turning of pages to help him drift off.