13
Jack poured another measure of scotch into his glass, carefully put the bottle back on the table and took a gulp. He’d usually expect to feel the clatter of ice cubes against his teeth as he savoured the flavour, but this time the whisky served a very different purpose altogether.
This was all about dulling the pain. Not only the pain and shame of being put on leave from work, but of everything that had led up to that. Every man had a breaking point, he knew that, but it was also true that the deeper your breaking point was, the more damage it’d cause when it finally went.
The stress of work was barely the surface level. Below that was the way in which Luke’s death had affected him — something he’d never even considered acknowledging, particularly not at work. He’d always admired Luk
