Angry encounter

Mick's shoulders drop and he paces in the office, hearing the news from Angel. "Aw, great. He's been a knucklehead the last couple weeks, but I didn't think he'd still be desperate for a high."

He stops abruptly. "Or worse." Could Dylan be planning something even worse? Was he desperate? Did he want out? Mick had no idea what was running through his son's head, but he didn't want to risk waiting to find out.

"Angel I'm going to find Dylan. Stay there... I'll be right over."

Hanging up the phone before Angel even has time to respond, Mick grabs his hat and heads for the door. "Rosetta, I'm leaving," he calls over his shoulder. "Keep BJ here."

Once outside, he breaks into a run, heading for Dylan's bunkhouse. "Dylan!" He pounds on the door. "Dylan, are you in there?"

Dylan had been sitting on the edge of his bed and he jumps, startled by the banging. What did his father want? Had he found out so quickly? Had he believed the brat? Great.

"Dylan!"

A chill runs down Dylan's spine. He'd seen his dad mad, but his tone of voice now was downright scary. Sliding a little further away, his eyes stay glued to the door, afraid to answer it.

Mick's heart races. He tries the door and finds it locked. Dylan had to be in there. Calling one more time without an answer, he steps back and with one swift kick, the door flies open, splinters from the wood around the lock flying.

Dylan almost falls off the bed, so startled, his face going pale.

Mick takes three long strides to stand in front of him, looking down at him sternly. "Why didn't you answer the door?"

Fear drove Dylan to respond. "Well you sounded mad, and apparently you are. What's the deal barging in on me anyway?"

"I have every right to, since you stole from Angel's office," Mick retorts. Though he was relieved to see Dylan sitting up, his heart still thumps. "Where are the pills?"

"I don't know what you're talking about. I didn't steal anything!"

"Where are they?!"

Dylan glares up at Mick. "I told you I didn't steal anything!"

Mick yanks Dylan from the bed, sending him stumbling into the wall. Without hesitating, Mick grabs hold of the bed's mattress and gives it a hefty shove, sending it off the frame. As suspected, a bottle of pills was nestled on top of the boxed springs. He picks it up and rattles it, turning around to Dylan. Though relieved he'd actually found them and seeing Dylan hadn't taken them, his tone is dead serious. "Oldest trick in the book, Dylan. You should know that. Now you're coming with me to return these to Angel and to explain just what it was you were planning to do with these."

"No." Dylan backs against the wall defiantly. "I don't have to tell you anything." He hurls a few choice words at his father, his tongue proving his bad habit of swearing once again.

"I've warned you about your language," Mick reminds tersely. "You may be sixteen years old but don't think that'll keep me from washing your mouth out with soap." He takes a step towards his son. "You can walk or I can drag you. Those are your choices."

"I have a third," Dylan snaps. "I can stay here."

"Sorry. You're wrong." Mick slips the pills into his pocket and grabs Dylan by the collar.

The trek to Angel's office takes a whole lot longer than it should. It's a power struggle between father and son, and Mick winds up barely missing several punches to the face. He keeps himself from swinging back and just pushes, shoves and pulls until Dylan is stumbling into Angel's office.

Mick is out of breath, his eyes still livid. He pulls the bottle from his pocket and hands it to Angel, breathing heavily. "Are these it?"

Dylan is sweating and glares at the floor.


"Supper?" Leo chuckles and wanders from the bathroom to pick up the remaining tools. "I don't think it's possible for you to wear out your welcome, Cassy. Besides, I'm on your turf. That means if anyone wears out anything, it's me."

Turning to look at her, he smiles a little then shakes his head, ambling across the room to put the tools away and grab his jacket. "I'm hungry," he admits. "But I think I need a shower more than anything else before I kill somebody."