And yet as the wait extended, and Shane started realizing Ros might have not lied about his father being here, an ugly idea reared his head, which at that moment seemed more attainable than the one with the dirty video.
He stormed out of the room, past Brad, who flattened against the wall as Shane ran past him, and then down the stairs, straight for the double doors leading into the courtyard. His head pulsed with unvoiced anger, and in that moment he knew he needed to make Ed Beck look him in the eye and see what he’d done.
Ros was the first to turn Shane’s way, and his eyes widened, but Shane was focused on the man in a dark suit. Ed Beck had gained a few pounds in the ten years since Shane had seen him in real life, yet he somehow seemed smaller, less significant, like an old sweater that had gained several holes over the years. If it wasn’t for the expensive clothes and grooming regimen, he would have been the picture of mediocrity.
Ed Beck followed his son’s gaze and stared at Shane, his round features expressing precisely nothing, as if they’d been carved in a piece of concrete. The little cross pin attached to the pocket of his blue shirt reflected the light into Shane’s face, as if Ed Beck wouldn’t lower himself to confront Shane directly and chose to agitate him instead.
Shane swallowed a big gulp of air and dashed down the lane cutting through the lawn and leading to the road and the black limousine with leather seats. And its owner.
Behind his father’s back, Ros shook his head violently, forbidding Shane from approaching, but Shane was done with playing the nice guy.
“Are you a member of the fraternity?” Ed Beck asked with a polite smile, stunning Shane into stupor.
Did he… did he not recognize Shane? Was he even aware Shane had done his time and left prison? Or did he not care because for him the matter that changed the whole trajectory of Shane’s life had been a minor obstacle left in the past?
He stalled as images from ten years ago flashed through his mind at lightspeed. The cops flattening Shane against the asphalt and putting cuffs on his wrists. The raw panic in Frank’s eyes. Beck’s tears, as he accused Shane of driving the car in his stead and hitting the woman.
Ten years lost. On this man who didn’t recognize Shane, as if the life he’d messed up had been only a spider he’d absent-mindedly squashed with the tip of his shoe.
“No,” came out of Shane in a dull voice.
“He’s an electrician,” Ros offered, stepping closer, pale as a sheet. “All okay with the plugs in my room then?”
He might have as well stabbed Shane with one of the tools he used for carving. It wouldn’t have killed him but still hurt like a motherfucker and would leave the wound infected.
His shoulders dropped, but despite knowing violence would have made him feel better, fatigue overcame his body as if he’d just been covered by a lead blanket. “I’m Shane.”
The bitter disappointment of not being recognized was sweetened with the tiniest bit of sugar when Ed Beck stiffened and stepped in front of his son as if Shane was a hyena on the prowl for lion cubs.
“You can work elsewhere. Tell your boss to assign someone else to this building.”
Ros looked between them in confusion. “That’s a bit rude, Dad. No need for that.”
“Wow. Thanks. So fucking kind of you,” Shane snapped, stepping off the curb and onto the asphalt, suddenly unsure which of the Becks provoked his anger more.
“Shane…” Ros tried with a deep sigh, as if it was Shane who was being difficult, not the two privileged fucks toying with him.
Ed Beck’s face became darker than it already had been because of his fake tan. “Has he been trying to befriend you?”
Ros raised his hands. “It’s not like that,” he protested, twisting the invisible chisel into Shane’s liver. He seemed so innocent with all that wavy hair. Anyone would have believed his word over Shane’s.
“I don’t care what it’s like. I’ll be complaining about the fact that your presence here is putting students in danger. Ex-cons might need jobs, but definitely not on the University campus,” Beck said through gritted teeth, smiting Shane with his blue glare.
Shane smelled copper. He wanted to unfold his knife, stab it into the bastard’s throat, and feel the heat of blood on his cheeks, but if he did that here, revenge would land him in prison forever. He had enough self-control to not throw away his freedom so easily.
Instead, he glared at the only weapon he could use against Beck, the pretty boy with cheeks like ripe apples.
“It’s not fair of you to say that,” Ros mumbled, but his father grabbed him by the arm and gave it a shake.