Scum (Wrong Side of the Tracks 1)

After ignoring at least a dozen messages from Ros, he’d half expected the same treatment, but Rosen not only replied almost immediately but also agreed to Shane’s terms, running from his dad’s house on Thanksgiving.

And while Shane had everything prepared for the trap he’d set for the boy, his heart remained unsettled. He stood by the open gate, waiting for Ros’s arrival as the cold wind howled, sneaking under his jacket and scratching at the bare neck he should have covered with a scarf. At least the cold kept him on his toes, aware of what he needed to do. This time, there wouldn’t be any change to his plans and no mercy.

Tonight, he would capture Rosen Beck on camera, and he would make sure Beck Senior saw the recording.

Ros’s headlights blinded him for a moment, but he’d gotten used to the brightness by the time the car approached him at a steady pace. On the night they’d met, Ros had dazzled Shane with striking blue eyes and shimmering skin, but he’d seemed harmless at the time, and Shane had let him come far too close. Tonight, this silliness would end. Shane wasn’t Rosen Beck’s college sweetheart, but a tough guy who’d spent ten years in prison and had a grudge the size of a NASCAR stadium.

Ros’s window lowered as he passed the gate, and the familiar face emerged, relaxing into the softest of smiles. “I just couldn’t stay there any longer.”

Shane peeked into the bright eyes that were so full of relief that for a moment he wanted to climb into the cab, have the boy drive them to Frank’s home and celebrate that Thanksgiving dinner after all. But he’d made that mistake too many times already, so he offered him a sparse smile instead and got in from the other side, choking on air fragrant with Ros’s natural aroma.

“Yeah?” he asked, noting that Ros’s cell phone lay in the cup holder, and when it buzzed, Rosen tossed it to the back seat with a shake of his head.

Ros drove on as if he couldn’t wait for the turkey. “And you weren’t answering me. I thought you were mad at me, and then my dad dropped this whole bomb about you on me, and I’m so confused.”

Shane had to bite his tongue to keep in a hiss of rage. He knew exactly what kind of bullshit old Beck would have told Ros, and it took all of his willpower not to contradict the lies. By the time this night was over, Rosen’s opinion of him would reach such lows that the reality behind Shane’s prison sentence wouldn’t matter.

And while he hated the thought of Ros finally seeing through the shimmery veil of good sex to see the scum hiding behind the pretty facade, there was nothing that could turn him back from the path he’d chosen tonight. The boy had shown his true colors when he’d rejected Shane in front of his dad, and Shane had already invested too much in this relationship that not only wouldn’t but couldn’t end well.

Better to put an end to it now and start living with a clean slate.

Ros might have gotten the hint that he wasn’t going to be forgiven on the merit of his smile, and quieted, focusing on the road ahead. He only voiced a question about their destination when they reached a crossroads and Shane gestured for him to turn away from Frank’s house and drive farther into the fields of scrap.

There was no point in chatting to a guy you wanted to fuck over.

The place he was leading the boy to was well hidden in the very heart of the junkyard. Frank sometimes kept people there for the local biker gang, and since abduction and false imprisonment were frowned upon, he’d made sure it could only be reached by someone who knew the labyrinthine roads in this part of the junkyard. It was the perfect spot for Shane to execute his plan.

As they drove on in silence, the tension inside the cab thickened until even Shane found it hard to breathe. Still, Rosen didn’t voice the worries he surely had and followed the winding track between piles of trash until the headlights licked the front of a red shipping container that had junk piled on all its sides for isolation.

This was where their relationship would end.

“We’re here,” Shane said and slid out into the night.

“Here… where?” Ros swallowed and glanced at him with brows drawn in surprise, still unaware of the danger he was in. “Is it because you want to talk in private?” he offered the excuse to Shane on a silver platter.

“Yeah,” Shane muttered and led the way toward the hidden lockup. His chest felt as if there were holes in his heart, but it was better to put an end to this entire chapter now rather than prolong this torture. He wished to never hear the name Beck again. Maybe in a headline.