Murderer logic. Brandon snorted a laugh and rolled his eyes. "Serial murderer logic. You forgot that part," he announced, pointing his finger at her and ignored the fact that there were probably at least two people in here who hadn't known that he was the latest on the list of murder suspects, and he'd announced it to them. "It's 'portant. But I'm not gonna turn down a chance to finish this shit off."
Oh yes. Brandon was drunk too. Not really slobbery, stupid drunk, but he was definitely nice and drunk, which was exactly what he needed right now.
His laughter echoed throughout the room when she missed, drawing more eyes to them, but he honestly didn't care. Let them stare. If these people thought he was a murderer, if they wanted to put him in jail... well, in a jail cell... for it, they'd damn well have to drag him. He hadn't killed anyone and anyone who thought otherwise could fuck off.
"You say this like you have to try and get me to drink, FS." Brandon grabbed his mug and made a very elaborate show of bringing it to his mouth, guzzling all that was inside as quickly as he could.
Little rivulets of amber liquid made their way down Brandon's jaw by the time he was finished, but uncaringly, he smacked his glass down on the table and spread his arms in a showy fashion. "Ta-da!" He looked at Rory with a serious nod. "Didn't think I could, did you?"