BRUCE

I throw my head back and down another glass of scotch.

I like the way it burns all the way down my fucking throat and settles uneasily in the pit of my stomach.

Another day and no sign of Opal.

It's been so long that I'm starting to ask myself if everything I lived with her was just a figment of my imagination. I'm slowly going crazy. This rage I have inside of me is all-consuming and it sickens me.

Sickens me.

I want to kill Quinton. I want to tear Walter Hart apart for being the ...