It was easier to stare at his distorted reflection in the glass of Bourbon than to look at Remy as the secrets came spilling out. Kevin couldn't pretend to remotely grasp the scale of what Remy had gotten himself involved. How everything tied to the MRA, the Phoenix, and perhaps was unfathomable at the moment. He could not comment; there was nothing he could say, and too much he wanted to ask that he didn't know where to begin.
So, instead, he took a different approach. Bringing the glass to his lips, he took an unsteady swallow and drew in a sharp breath as the repugnant taste burnt his sense. Lips pressed tight to steel himself, he leveled his gaze with Remy, and when he parted his mouth to speak, his voice was firm and without hesitation.
"So, what's your plan to fix things? You made some bad decisions, and your reaction was to run away? I'm glad you came back... but are you here to stay and clean up the mess? Or are you only here to make more mistakes then bail after you realize you screw up?" He tilted the glass with one less sip of Bourbon and shook his head. "It's confirmed. I don't like Bourbon."