Scum (Wrong Side of the Tracks 1)

Shane couldn’t have been softer. In fact, in that moment, he feared his dick might have shrivelled and would never work again. “I… what?”

He was so confused he let Ros’s hand slip out of his grip, and Ros’s next punch got him in the lip, leaving a coppery aftertaste in his mouth. He cursed and held both of his wrists down before climbing on top and pressing his knee to the slender chest.

He had no doubt Ros was terrified, but his gaze was now steel despite the tears streaking his face. “You heard me,” the boy snarled, and with all his limbs helpless, he used the one weapon still available to him. He spat at Shane. “I believe what you said about my dad. But that only means you're both scum!”

Shane stilled as the warm spit rolled down his cheek. The hot tar bubbling inside him was reaching his throat, and as it invaded his mouth, making it taste bitter, he found he could no longer look at Ros’s tear-soaked face. As he glanced away, his eyes met the lens of the camera, and he shook with disgust, rolling off the boy.

“Fine. Go back to him. Take his money. Why make your life harder?” he roared, heading for the door with the key already in hand. He wanted Ros gone. Now. Immediately.

Ros didn’t wait a second to get up, but moved against the wall opposite to Shane, keeping as much distance as possible. He even grabbed the empty bucket in anticipation of needing it for protection.

“It’s not my fault he fucked up your life!” Ros yelled, and his shouting made Shane’s skull vibrate, rendering his efforts to push the key into the lock useless.

Shane’s head pulsed. His heart beat so fast he felt as if he might drop dead at any second, but he still managed to open the padlock and tossed it to the floor along with the chain. “Fuck you! Now get lost.”

Ros was through the door within the blink of an eye, and he didn’t look back until he opened his car door. “Don’t come near me again, or I’ll call the cops on you!” he yelled, already sliding behind the wheel. He’d left his shirt behind, and his body trembled from the cold.

Shane stood in the open door of the container, struck by disbelief when the headlights shone straight at him.

Rosen was leaving. Shane was letting him. And all he had to show for this mess was a tape incriminating him. How the fuck did that happen? He’d been planning this evening since yesterday, and now Rosen had left him with nothing.

Nothing but a deep hatred for himself. Because whenever he thought of being the cause of Ros’s tears, he wished to punch himself in the other eye, so he wouldn’t have to see the shiny streaks trailing down that beautiful face a moment longer.

But it wouldn’t help because the features twisted with terror and a sense of betrayal were right in front of him every time he closed his eyes.

Chapter 13 – Shane

Shane couldn’t finish watching the damn video. Seeing Ros realize he’d been lured into a trap made him feel like puking, and the man who’d tried to force Ros into sex in front of the camera? Shane didn’t recognize himself in that bastard. His voice sounded deeper, like that of the grim reaper delivering Ros’s sentence, and even the way he moved seemed painfully unfamiliar.

Or was this the real him?

Scum.

Liar.

Rapist .

He hadn’t considered what his plan implied until Ros had called the threat what it was, and Shane was still too shocked to think clearly.

Just two days ago, all he’d wanted was for Ros to see him as his equal. The boyfriend he’d be proud to introduce to his friends. So Ros hurt his feelings and rejected him. Big fucking deal. Shane should have gotten over himself and punched Ed Beck from some other direction that might have landed him in jail, but would have kept the boy from seeing him for the piece of trash he’d been all along.

The spit in his face had hurt more than any punch and kick. And before this disaster of an evening, Ros had always been so trusting, so accommodating, full of understanding for Shane’s prison time and willing to give him mountains of affection.

It was as if fury had caused a fever that scrambled his brain, but Shane didn’t deserve such excuses. He had fucked up and was so ashamed of his actions that he refused to go back home for the night. So he slept on the damn mattress until he couldn’t take the cold anymore early in the morning.

He deleted the recording, and then smashed the memory card with a rock before drowning it in a puddle. The lack of sleep made him groggy and so puzzled he initially lost his way in the labyrinth of paths designed to confuse nosy visitors, despite knowing the way like the back of his own hand.