He’d come close, so close it shocked him, to striking Jean-Guy. Gamache had been angry before. Had certainly been taunted and tested. By yellow journalists, by suspects, by defense lawyers and even colleagues. But he’d rarely come this close to actually lashing out physically. He’d pulled himself back. But with an effort so great it left him winded and exhausted. And hurt. He knew that. Knew the reason suspects and even colleagues, while frustrating and maddening, hadn’t brought him this close to physical violence was because they couldn’t hurt him deeply. But someone he cared about could. And
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