But Not For Lust by BJ Bourg (comprehension books .txt) 📕

back and forth on the sidewalk in front of the building as I dialed Amy on my phone. When she answered, her voice sounded heavy.

“Hey, Aims, what’s up?” I asked, almost afraid to know. “Is everything okay?”

“Um, Baylor and I have been talking for the past hour or so, and there’s something I need to tell you.”

I stopped dead in my tracks. Were they breaking up? Was it worse than that? I waited for what seemed like forever for her to speak again. When she did, her voice was shaking.

“I need help, Clint.”

Her words cut through me like a smoldering dagger. My jaw burned. I bit back the emotions that suddenly swept over me.

“Okay,” I said quietly. “I’m here for you—whatever you need.”

There was a long moment of silence. Finally, she spoke again, and her voice was so low I could barely hear her.

“I was doing fine, you know? Other than my left leg not cooperating, everything was going fine. While I was in the hospital and when I first got home, I would dream about the shooting. Sometimes I’d jerk myself awake when the shooting started, other times I’d sleep through it and wake up pouring sweat. Eventually, the dreams started slacking off. I really believed it was behind me, but…” Her voice trailed off and she sighed. “For the first time since the shooting, I tried to drive. This is the longest I’ve ever gone without driving since getting my license as a teenager. I actually miss it. It felt good to be behind the wheel again. I was about to crank the engine when I saw her.”

Amy paused for another long moment. I wanted her to know I was paying attention, so I asked, “Saw who, Amy?”

“Her—I saw that bitch who shot me.” Her voice quivered a little. “It seemed as real as the conversation we’re having now. I actually felt the pain from the bullets tearing through my flesh. I could feel glass peppering my face. I could smell the burnt gun powder. My ears started ringing. Before, I would have dreams when I was sleeping, but this was while I was wide awake. I swear, I think I’m going crazy.”

“No,” I said quickly. “You’re not going crazy. This is all normal. Trust me.”

“I do trust you,” she said. “That’s why I called to tell you that I’ll be seeing someone.”

“Someone?”

“A shrink. A psychologist or psychiatrist—I don’t really know the difference.” She started to say something more, but hesitated.

“What is it?”

“I was afraid to tell you,” she admitted. “I didn’t want you to think I was weak. And I certainly don’t want anyone else to know about this.”

“Oh, God, Amy, there’s nothing weak about getting help,” I said. “It takes a lot of courage to admit you can’t do this alone.”

“You did it alone, and you went through something much worse than simply getting shot.” She grunted. “You lost your family. Nothing compares to that.”

“Amy,” I said slowly, “not a lot of people know this, but I didn’t do it on my own.”

“You didn’t?” She sounded surprised. “You saw a shrink?”

“No.” It was my turn to hesitate. I was embarrassed, but I knew I needed to tell her what I’d done, as it might help keep her from making the same mistake I had made. I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “I hid my pain in a bottle.”

“What?”

“I drank away the pain, Amy,” I said. “I don’t know if I could call myself an alcoholic, but I do know I needed the alcohol to cope with the losses. I wasn’t strong enough on my own to seek help, but Susan helped in ways she’ll never know. She saved my life and my career.”

Neither of us said anything for a while. She spoke next.

“Yeah, Baylor’s great, too. I think he felt ambushed when he got home. I unloaded on him, but he was great. He recommended a psychologist or something from California. He said she helps cops who have to deal with stress on the job. He said she’s good. If he trusts her, then I know I can trust her.”

“That’s a good thing, Amy. Trust is important. You need to take care of yourself.”

After another long pause, she asked, “How is this going to affect my job?”

“It won’t.”

“But, what if I can’t drive without freaking out? What if it takes a while for me to get back to normal?”

“Then I’ll just have to drive you around.”

I could almost hear her smiling through the phone. “Thank you, Clint. You’ll never know how much this helps.”

“Just get that leg better and come back to work,” I said quickly. “I need your help. They’re killing me out here.”

  CHAPTER 26

After ending my conversation with Amy, I returned to the observatory and found Takecia and Trinity still standing there watching Neal. They turned when I entered.

“He’s ready,” Trinity said. “Lenny’s done with his paperwork and Neal’s squirming. He knows he’s here for something other than drugs, but he’s not sure what it is. I heard him ask Lenny if this had anything to do with J-Rock’s murder.”

“Murder?” I asked quizzically.

“That’s what he called it.”

I grunted. “I guess news travels fast in the drug community.”

Giving Trinity a nod, I stepped back out into the hallway and then opened the door to the interview room. I stood in the doorway for a long moment and stared down at Neal. He looked up and gulped when he first saw me. After a second, he shifted in his seat and it seemed as though he was trying to regain his composure.

“It’s been a long time, Neal.” I indicated the tattoo on his neck, which displayed his initials. “That thing hasn’t washed off yet?”

“Nah, man,” he said, trying to sound tough. “This ain’t