His eyes rolled back in his head and he groaned. “There you fucking go again, Dusty!” He shook his head incredulously and ran his hand through his hair before bringing his eyes back down to the man. “<i>I know better than to rely on luck</i>.” Or some shit. Caelan didn’t care enough to repeat the quote verbatim. He did know that he was about done listening to Dusty's preaching. It had gone on enough for one night. Hell, one lifetime.<br/><br/>Caelan sat back, his arms loosely crossed over his lower rib cage. His jaw was set and he stared at the man in a similar fashion, nearly mirroring the expression on his face. Without as much as a moment’s notice, Caelan shot out of his chair, pushing it back with an audible screech against the wooden floor. Caelan struck Dusty with the palm of his hand before he knew what he was doing. It probably wasn’t enough to cause physical pain to anyone but Caelan, but enough to irritate the man at the very least. “Keep your fucking mouth shut.” He spoke through clenched teeth. “Don’t talk about my dad.”