Scum (Wrong Side of the Tracks 1)

Frank spread his massive, tattooed arms. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!”

“What’s going on?” asked a male voice from inside, and seconds later a fluffy blond head peeked out from behind Frank’s shoulder.

“It is what it is, Frankie. Switch off the cameras outside, and we’ll be good to go,” Shane said, feeling sturdy like a tree capable of keeping Ros safe during the flash flood. “Are we doing this or not?”

Frank bared his teeth. “Fuck! I’m done with those frat boy motherfuckers if they can’t police their own!” He kicked the door frame, while the other guy’s brown gaze settled on Ros.

“I’m Dex.” He extended his hand in greeting even though he had to duck under Frank’s arm to pass in the doorway. He was on the shorter side, much younger than both his buddies, yet still more athletic than Ros, with freckles, dimple and nose piercings, as well as a whole collection of random tattoos covering most of the skin on show. In contrast to the sticker-like images on his chest and arms, Dex’s throat was the hyper-realistic mouth of a predator with two sets of razor-sharp teeth, which clamped down on its invisible victims each time he nodded. It was fucked up. But also kind of cool.

Frank reached forward and squeezed his massive paw on Shane’s arm, but his gaze met Ros’s. “I need to steal him for a moment.”

Shane grunted and rubbed Ros’s nape before sliding away and following Frank inside. “I’ll be right back. Don’t leave the house.”

“You sure you don’t need help with the… thing?” Ros asked.

But Shane just shook his head as he walked off with Frank.

Dex grinned at him and made a wide gesture with his arm, inviting Ros inside. The place was a bit bare, with no decoration in sight and dark smudges on the walls. A massive table was the main feature of the interior, but instead of a centerpiece that would have occupied the middle in most homes Rosen had visited, it was crowded by dirty dishes tucked into spaces where junk and tiny metal cogs had been pushed aside to make room for food.

As Ros breathed in the odd aroma of burning chicken noodle soup, Dex followed him and closed the door. “You hungry? We just finished, but there’s some food left.” He wiggled his eyebrows and showed off a neon-pink and gold packet of instant noodles.

Ros sat down in a chair by the table with a deep sigh. “Nah, I think I lost my appetite forever.”

“You’ll get better once you stop stressing out about the guy being found,” Dex said, flinching when a dull thud came from the closed room Shane had disappeared into with Frank. Their eyes met, and Dex grinned, as if nothing had happened, and rubbed his black-and-white neck. “Something to drink then? We have tea, including green. And sodas. And Frank keeps plenty of beer in the fridge,” he said, approaching at a slow pace.

For someone dealing with drugs and body disposal, he sure was friendly, so Ros dared to smile. He needed all the support he could get. “Apparently, he wasn’t even supposed to be at the frat today. He told my friend he was leaving for the weekend, so maybe the dust will settle on this fast.”

Dex grabbed a beer from the fridge and nodded. “Sure. Exactly. These things have their way of sorting themselves out. No need to worry when I’m on the job.” He winked at Ros, only confusing him further, because Shane was the one handling everything in Ros’s stead.

“Maybe coffee would be better after all. I might still be driving tonight.”

“Are you sure? It’s already late. You should stay over,” Dex told him and stepped so close Ros sensed the guy’s sneaker touching the inner side of his foot. Dex smelled of instant ramen and a cologne worn by about half of the male population, but the confidence with which he carried himself stalled Ros’s brain for so long that he didn’t react until the door behind him opened.

“Dex. Step away or I’m gonna rearrange your bones,” Shane snapped, approaching them in quick strides. His face was dark, as if he’d been splashed with beetroot juice, and he shoved at Dex’s chest before his sudden appearance could have caused a reaction.

Dex raised his hands in a blatant parody of innocence. “What’s your problem? I was just offering a cup of coffee.”

“Sure you were. A cup of dick more like. This one’s mine, so keep your slippery hands away from him,” Shane growled, pulling Ros close with a firm tug on the arm.

Frank was massive in comparison to the other two men. Broad in the shoulders, tall, and his black hair had a fluffy texture that would have surely looked like a dark lion’s mane if he let it out of the braid. Yet now that he and Shane had sorted out their differences, he seemed cool as a cucumber.