DAISY

Brian walked right past me without saying a word. His boots thudded heavily against the dark mahogany flooring as he ripped his tailored suit jacket off and hurled it onto the cream leather sofa. The fine silk was smeared with black grease from the rental hatchback's door frame—a stark, ridiculous stain on his otherwise perfect armor.

He moved straight to the bar, his large hand shaking with a raw, volatile adrenaline as he poured a glass of scotch. The crystal decanter rattled loudly against the rim. He didn't sip it; he downed the amber liquid in one sharp throat-full, keeping his back turned to me like he couldn't even...