Scum (Wrong Side of the Tracks 1)

Jag squinted at all of them and wouldn’t get off Arnie even when the man tried to scramble to his hands and knees.

“What?” Arnie whined. “You told me I can come after midnight…”

Frank lowered his shotgun, but turned to Dex with a scowl. With a face like that, he wouldn’t have needed a mask for Halloween. “Got something to tell me, boy?”

Dex bit his lip, avoiding Frank’s gaze, but the way he fidgeted told Shane he was considering whether he ought to shove his hook up under the bus. In the end, Dex spread his arms and approached Arnie. “Okay, I might have said that. I got a bit fucked up on pills. Jag, get the fuck off him. His wife’s gonna question each bruise you leave!”

Shane bit the inside of his cheek as he tried and failed to keep a straight face for Frank’s benefit. Jag stepped away with a final growl, which only made the situation more surreal.

Arnie scrambled to his feet, eyes glinting in the glow of the lamp above the porch. “I don’t care what she says! I only want you!”

Dex raised his hands so fast the baseball bat slipped from his fingers. “Whoa, man! We were just fucking. What the hell?”

Frank had more pressing concerns than the unfolding drama. “I told you no hook ups in the house! How hard is that to understand, huh?”

“But how is that fair though?” Dex complained. “You gonna tell Shane he can’t bring guys over too? That’s some tyrant shit, Frank!”

“Shane can take care of himself and at least remembers to use condoms,” Frank roared. “You can’t even fucking remember to take your PrEP on your own. You’re twenty-one, so maybe it’s time you took some responsibility?”

“First time?” Shane asked, patting a very disoriented Arnie on the back.

The guy had to take several deep breaths before speaking. “I… I thought we had something…”

Shane would have felt sorry for him, if he weren’t so pathetic. “You could give me your number,” he tried, but Arnie pulled out from under his hand, eyeing Dex with more despair than the kid was worth.

“I opened up to you!”

Dex shook his head. “You opened your legs, I opened my mouth, and that’s about it.”

Frank was done with the situation and butted in when Arnie’s lips parted. “Go home. It’s the middle of the night. If you can’t see how much of a shithead my nephew is, then I really can’t help you.”

Shane was about to laugh, but a tingle at the back of his neck—the same one that had saved his skin in prison more than once—made him aware that something was off, and he glanced over his shoulder instead, frantic with the realization that Jag had disappeared like some fucking ghost. He hated the insane fucker.

“Let’s finish up here, yeah? Enough excitement for one night.”

Arnie shook his head, his face falling as if he were a kicked dog.

“Yo, Arnie! I’ll call you!” Dex yelled even after Frank slapped the back of his head.

The married guy had enough self-respect to call out, “Don’t you dare!” as he marched away from the house, no doubt followed by Jag, who’d creep after him all the way to the gate.

At least the freak would be out of Shane’s hair.

“What the hell are you doing? Someone’s gonna snap on you eventually if you keep up with this shit,” Frank growled, pushing Dex toward the house.

Dex looked back at the baseball bat but must have decided to pick it up tomorrow. “I didn’t know he was married at first. What’s the worst that can happen, anyway? I can handle myself in a fight.”

“If you get in trouble, I’ll have to go after the guy, and I don’t want you to wreck my business just because you can’t keep it in your pants,” Frank bitched, herding Dex into the house while Shane followed, starting to feel the weight of the late hour on his eyelids.

“Good luck with that, Franky. I’m out,” he declared, stepping inside and heading down the dark corridor, toward the bedrooms.

His new room barely had enough space for a double bed, and the furniture was all second-hand, but it was his. Without a cell mate, with a door he could open any time he wanted, and a window with no bars in it. He might not own this house, but Frank would let him stay forever if he wanted, so it felt like a home he could get comfortable in.

Dex was still arguing with Frank in the kitchen when Shane closed the door and dropped to the bed, but there was comfort to this new, strange community. Even Jag, while a freak for many other reasons, was gay.

His new place might be a bit of a dump, and two of the other guys living here constantly got on Shane’s nerves, but it was a home that offered him the freedom to be himself, which was more than he could have asked for.