5
Bad Suit
Clay scrubbed his face with his hand and tried to wipe away the frustration of these damn broken ribs. It had been nearly two weeks, and it still hurt like a b***h. He chased the two pain pills with a swallow of scotch. That would drown out the pain for a few hours while he dealt with this goddamn New Year’s party.
“Well, I’m sure that mixes well,” Andrea’s slow drawl carried down the stairs of their second-story house in the suburbs of northern Virginia, just outside of D.C. They both had their own apartments in the city, but when they wanted to leave that behind, they came here to their place.
Clay finished off the scotch and set it back down on the bar. “It does.”
“Are you already drunk?”
“Course not. Do you know how much liquor that takes?”
“Yes.”
Clay’s eyes travele
