Damien's POV
The vodka burned going down, but not enough. Never enough.
I threw back another shot, the clear liquid scorching my throat, my eyes watering from the intensity. The glass hit the bar with a sharp c***k, making the bartender glance over with concern.
"Calm down, fella." Fred's voice cut through the haze. "Do you intend to kill yourself by drinking?"
I looked at my best friend, the guy who'd just returned to New York after three years working in London, looking annoyingly healthy and put-together in his designer suit. Fred had been my closest friend since college, the one person who'd always had my back. Or so I'd thought.
"Then I want to kill myself," I said, already reaching for another shot. "Maybe I can go to the great beyond and ask my father why the hell he would set
