You tossed your keys down and flicked the lights on. Allowing yourself to finally indulge in the yawn you’ve been suppressing all day. “Long day?” Ripped a voice from the dark. You whirled to face the sofas, your hands already at the gun on your hip. … His eyes were unfocused and he was more slummed than sitting. The man who always got the last word, the man who always issued the last threat… the man who could disappear at any given time and never get caught unless he wished to be.. Here he was, Drunk. On your sofa.