There was no arguing Malcolm's true hits, not after providing all that context and information. Raylan nodded and glanced at the coffee pot before pulling down two cups.

"All over. You can take one if you want; she had four and they'll come with the house when it sels. Sit down." Pouring out, he moved the cups to the table and sat down.

"Sounds like you know a thing or two about asshole dads. You feel like sharing or should I cut you a check for therapy?" Malcolm wasn't getting out of the quid pro quo that easily and while Raylan could guess, it would be clumsy and way off mark. He didn't have the information he needed in return.

"Is he what caused.." Raylan pointed a finger up at the ceiling, as though it was towards the bed Malcolm had just thrown himself out of.