The man looked at Raylan, some stubbornness remaining in his face but a twitch of uncertainty in his expression and the way he shifted his weight.
"It's more than that," Malcolm interjected. "Your stress responses are through the roof. You saw something or he told you something and whatever it was, it freaked you out."
The man turned and grabbed Malcolm's neatly pressed lapel. Malcolm held up one hand towards Raylan, who he was sure would intervene, and one towards the man now giving serious consideration to assaulting him.
"I think I was pretty clear about you shuttin' your mouth or gettin' it shut for you," he burly thug said.
"You were pretty clearly lashing out to protect yourself, definitely," Malcolm allowed, "and you're also pretty clearly a hardened criminal type. So what could he have said or done that would have freaked out someone like you?" he pointed out, holding the man's gaze.
He looked about to snarl but then, suddenly, released Malcolm and turned around, running a hand through his hair, before turning to the Marshals.
"I'm no fuckin' snitch," he said firmly, but his resolve was gone. He took a breath. "But a couple nights ago, I came in late. He was sitting on the couch over there with his laptop, jerkin' off, except when he jumped up to put his dick away, I saw the screen. It wasn't some chick with big titties givin' someone a blow job or somethin'. It was a guy stranglin' a kid. Couldn't've been more than ten. I didn't look close enough to see what else was goin' on. I told him I wanted him gone by morning and left the room. When I got up, he wasn't here no more. I don't know where he went, but he said the first day he was here that there was someone in the city he wanted to visit for a long time, someone who could give him good advice, but he didn't know how he could go see him because the guy's in prison. That's all I know."
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"It's more than that," Malcolm interjected. "Your stress responses are through the roof. You saw something or he told you something and whatever it was, it freaked you out."
The man turned and grabbed Malcolm's neatly pressed lapel. Malcolm held up one hand towards Raylan, who he was sure would intervene, and one towards the man now giving serious consideration to assaulting him.
"I think I was pretty clear about you shuttin' your mouth or gettin' it shut for you," he burly thug said.
"You were pretty clearly lashing out to protect yourself, definitely," Malcolm allowed, "and you're also pretty clearly a hardened criminal type. So what could he have said or done that would have freaked out someone like you?" he pointed out, holding the man's gaze.
He looked about to snarl but then, suddenly, released Malcolm and turned around, running a hand through his hair, before turning to the Marshals.
"I'm no fuckin' snitch," he said firmly, but his resolve was gone. He took a breath. "But a couple nights ago, I came in late. He was sitting on the couch over there with his laptop, jerkin' off, except when he jumped up to put his dick away, I saw the screen. It wasn't some chick with big titties givin' someone a blow job or somethin'. It was a guy stranglin' a kid. Couldn't've been more than ten. I didn't look close enough to see what else was goin' on. I told him I wanted him gone by morning and left the room. When I got up, he wasn't here no more. I don't know where he went, but he said the first day he was here that there was someone in the city he wanted to visit for a long time, someone who could give him good advice, but he didn't know how he could go see him because the guy's in prison. That's all I know."