Scum (Wrong Side of the Tracks 1)

Mitch eyed Shane with a bit more caution.

“He got what he deserved for being a pain in the ass,” he said in an even tone.

“Oh really?” Shane asked, resting his hands on his hips, but his restlessness was making Ros stiffen with worry. “What is it that he did, Whatsyourname?”

Mitch introduced himself and got up, all confrontational. There was no reality in which this situation could have a good outcome. “It’s my house, and no pampered poodle will be telling me when to do my laundry or wash my dishes.” He glared at Ros with a promise of violence, but Shane was nothing like Ros and neither broad stances nor mean words could intimidate him into silence.

Mitch’s posture changed the moment Shane stepped forward. He reached into his pocket, but wasn’t fast enough, torn whether he should keep the threatening act or submit to the larger predator. Shane grabbed Mitch by his greasy hair and pressed an open pocket knife to his throat in a way so confident everyone in the room realized it was no empty threat.

Ros yelped and backed into the wall, but he wasn't sorry for Mitch. The fucker was getting what he deserved, and in this moment, Ros couldn't find it in himself to hate Shane. The same violence Shane had wielded against him, was exciting when exerted in righteous revenge. Ros wanted Mitch to be afraid for once, and to know that Shane did this for Ros’s benefit, unwound a knot in his heart.

“What the fuck?” Jason squealed, dropping his plastic plate to the floor, but Shane ignored him and shoved Mitch to his knees. A loop of yellow rope appeared in his hand out of nowhere, and he pushed it over Mitch’s head before tightening the noose. When he stepped toward the kitchen, Ros’s tormentor rolled to his stomach and grabbed at the noose, fighting for breath.

“Who’s the poodle now, huh?” Shane roared.

“G-get the f-fuck off!” Mitch struggled to speak but still writhed in the hold. He looked to Jason for help, but the guy retreated into the kitchen and wouldn’t move an inch.

Figured. Jason was a man who only picked on those he was sure he could win against, and usually egged on Mitch while keeping his hands clean. He wouldn’t challenge Shane even if the person being threatened were his own mother.

Ros had never been a bloodthirsty person, yet seeing Mitch dragged over the dirty floor like the piece of trash he was, awoke a new side of him. Now he knew how Ancient Romans had felt in the circus, watching Christians being ripped apart by wild beasts. And he liked it.

“Should have listened to your own advice and backed off from my boy, but you haven’t, have you? It’s now my time to have some fun,” Shane hissed, pulling a frantic Mitch by the improvised leash. Jason moved along the kitchen counter, his face already shiny with sweat, but Shane spotted him before he could have made a run for it. “I’m not done with you either. Stay still if you don’t want to end up like him.”

Ros shouldn’t condone this. Shane had proven himself deceptive and ruthless, yet Ros’s face heated more than ever when he watched Shane avenging him. This was the confidence Ros had fallen for. The Shane who’d followed him into his room and taken his virginity after barely exchanging names.

When Mitch pawed at the counter next to him in search of a weapon, Shane grabbed a dirty steak knife from the sink and plunged it through the fucker’s hand, pinning it to the wood.

Ros might have felt the spark of satisfaction at Mitch’s scream all the way in his balls.

“He cut my hair off when I was sleeping,” he said in a hollow voice.

“Oh really?” Shane asked, smashing Mitch’s face against the pizza box on the counter. “Maybe we should cut off his balls while he’s not sleeping?”

“Hey, man… It was just a joke,” Jason muttered, but stayed put as he’d been told.

“A f-fucking p-prank!” Mitch choked out when Shane gave his throat enough slack.

“Do you see me laughing?” Shane asked, glaring at Jason, whose legs shook so violently he looked as if he might drop to the floor at any second.

For a terrible moment, Ros couldn’t breathe from the shock of it all, but then Shane twisted the knob switching on one of the burners on the gas stove and pulled Mitch’s face over the fire. The odor of burning hair filled the whole interior, and Mitch shrieked, thrashing in Shane’s hold.

“Are we laughing now?” Shane roared before tossing the fucker to the floor, where Mitch frantically rolled around until the flames died.

Ros crossed his arms on his chest to keep from trembling. He would have watched Mitch getting his whole ear burned off. And then fucked Shane’s brains out.