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. You been drinking a lot? Brandon hedged. Define a lot. He was definitely puttingback more than normal for him, but Brandon didn t think hegone over the edge with it.Nodding, Orozco clarified. Anything this morning? No. Derisively, Brandon snorted. Fuck, it s not evennoon& much less like five o clock. 242 James Buchanan Hey, my motto was, it s five-o clock somewhere. Orozco ssnort echoed with self-depreciating amusement.Then his tonewent a little more concerned. When did you go to bed? Brandon dropped his face into his hands. You mean go tobed, he mumbled out through his fingers, or actually sleep? Sleeping at all? Shaking his head, Brandon confirmed what Orozco probablyalready knew. Not much. Look, Brandon, we re all taught to not show it.Weakness onthe streets gets you killed.So we put on blinders to get us throughthe job, but sometimes they block out too much; don t see it inourselves or the people we love. He paused for a moment thenshrugged. I guess it s because we think it means we re weak. Playing with his mustache, Orozco paused again.It was like hesearched for a way to put his thoughts into words.Finally, hespread his hands on the table and spoke. So we pack all this crapaway in the mental trash can.The shit we see, the things we haveto do.And then something happens and there isn t any moreroom. Orozco sighed deep and hard. All that garbage spillsback out over our brains.Because we don t talk to each other, theonly other people who might know what we re going through,about shit like this, we think we re the only ones messed up.Andwe think we can t talk about it.We re the ones in control.We resupposed to help people deal with their shit.But we can t admitwe need help. Brandon picked at his cuticles.He couldn t look at the otherdetective. You think I need help, but you re not sure I need arubber room? No, Orozco chided, cause you don t trust those head-doctors any more than any other cop.You d tell them exactlywhat you thought they wanted to hear and nothing would getdone. Reaching across the corner of the table, Orozco poppedBrandon s shoulder with his fist. Talk to me. What the hell could he say? I don t know if I can be a copanymore, Oro Manny. I can t stand it? I can t live with the hell in ALL OR NOTHING 243my head? I d rip out my brain just to stop the dreams, the nightmares?Instead, Brandon choked out, If this one thing can take me sofar down& First, Brandon, you re going through the worst hell a parentcan imagine. Orozco shifted his chair so that the table wasn tbetween them anymore. I mean, I went through hell. Heleaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and kneaded theknuckles of one hand with the other. Honestly, though, at leastI know where Beanie is; over at Palm Cemetery in Green Valley. Then he reached over and gripped Brandon s knee. And second,it isn t just this one thing.You re vice, which is amped up shit allthe time.About the only thing more crazy making is patrol&which we ve all had to go through.Add onto that, you do guysand you lie about it to everyone you work with. Brandon rolled his eyes and slumped back against the hardspine of the chair. It actually kinda came out this summer. Intentionally? Orozco prodded. Ah, no. Nodding like he expected the answer, Orozco threw outanother question. How long have you been on the force? Brandon laced his fingers across the back of his head. Going on ten years. Shit, the most committed he d ever beento anything.With Shayna gone, ten years mattered about as muchas ten seconds. How many suicides, murders, family things you think you veworked in those ten years? Fuck if I can remember, Brandon rolled his eyes, hundreds. Yeah. Orozco shared the sentiment.Too many tragediesfor any one cop to witness.it came with the uniform.One ofthose things that any cop any cop with any time under theirbelt understood. Shot anyone? Discharged, hit a couple.Never fatal. Thank God for that. I can t remember how many times I ve drawn down without 244 James Buchananfiring. Again Orozco seemed to expect the answer.Maybe notthe specifics, but a cop who, in a decade, never had to shootat someone was either a coward who wouldn t draw or fuckinglucky. You ever talk to Nicholas about it? Brandon actually laughed. Are you fucking crazy? Copsdidn t discuss that shit with anyone except other cops& and mosttimes not even then. No.I m not. Orozco assumed the fatherly, but stern, handscrossed over his chest position.He stared down Brandon untilthe younger cop broke eye contact. Look, the gentle tone inOrozco s voice drew Brandon s attention back. I was a drinker.I drank so I didn t have to talk.Goddamn, I ve only known youabout a year.And while I don t know you well, I know yourtype well.You re a bottler. Orozco rapped his knuckles on thetabletop. Saw it when Nicholas almost bought his ticket up onthe Grapevine.You squash it all down, he ground his fist againstthe wood as though mimicking Brandon squashing his feelingsinto tight space, and the pressure keeps building and every littlesliver of stress shakes that bottle just a bit.And then somethinghorrible happens, like this, and the cap pops off and all that shitcomes spewing out. Pop psychology 101? Brandon growled out to keep fromadmitting how close Orozco hit it. Peer counseling training. Orozco shrugged. Two Metrocops started it back in the 80 s.One of them eventually gotelected Sheriff.It s a mix of cops and civilians.We re on call24/7 just like Vegas.They pulled me up.I m going to help youpull yourself up outta this.So I m going to give you my homephone, my cell and we re going to make a contract. I don t want you to have to do that. Look, Detective, Orozco leaned into Brandon s personalspace, which do you think I d rather& get woken up at three inthe morning because you re having a hard night? Or get woken upat three a.m.to come out here so I can try and find all the pieces ALL OR NOTHING 245of your brain, or Nicholas , for the coroner? He paused to letthe importance sink in. Your stepmom said you drew down onhim before you snapped out of it. Brandon couldn t believe Edith had told him that.Then herealized, of course she would have.It was probably the reasonOrozco got there so fast. Fuck, I didn t mean to. Brandon didn twant to remember that moment. I don t want to hurt him. Orozco rocked back in his chair as he fished in his pocket forhis note pad. Yeah.So that s why we need a contract. What the hell did he mean by that? Contract? Yeah, you are going to write down a promise to me. Havingsecured the small notebook, Orozco searched his pockets andcame up with a pen. You re going to promise me that you re notgoing to off yourself.I m going to tell you what you re going towrite down. Brandon actually laughed. Why would I do that? Because if you don t, Orozco tossed the pad and pen onthe table in front of Brandon, I am going to 433 you.And Iwill make it big and messy and involve as many people in mydepartment and in your department as is humanly possible.Takeyou out fucking kicking and screaming. He held the pen out toBrandon. You gonna write? Brandon grumbled, Like I have a choice? He took thepen. Yeah, you do [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] |
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