Maybe he’d be lucky and Blake would get pissed off and leave. He doubted it, but it was the only thing he could hope for at that point.
Chapter Five
While he waited for Zane to arrive, Beau transferred the tools he had in his roll-around over to the main toolbox and proceeded to load his personal items into his own truck. He had just finished hefting the empty roll-around into the bed of his truck while Ralph and Ricky tracked his every move. The only thing left was his toolbox, which he had locked in order to keep Ricky out of his shit. Beau was grateful when he heard the sound of the flatbed’s diesel engine as it pulled into the parking lot.
Considering he had told Zane what he needed, he wasn’t surprised to see the black F650 backing through the gate slowly, getting closer to the bay doors. Unlocking the wheels, Beau rolled the heavy toolbox as far as he could, desperately wanting to get out of there as quickly as possible. As it was, he’d already had to stall for a solid fifteen minutes because, as usual, Zane was late.
Offering a few hand signals for direction, Beau helped Zane back the truck in so that the bed would lower just outside the bay door. Once the truck was parked, Beau launched himself onto the bed in order to retrieve the winch cable.
Less than a minute later, Beau hopped back down and took it upon himself to head over to the controls that would lower the bed to the ground. No reason to wait for Zane because he was ready to get the hell out of there. Listening to Ricky whine like a fucking girl for the last twenty minutes had made him want to stab something into his ears just to make the obnoxious sound go away.
Beau wasn’t paying attention to anything around him, with the exception of the flatbed sliding back and dropping down so that he could get the toolbox winched up onto it. The minutes seemed to tick by slowly while he waited with Ricky’s beady eyes boring into him from across the shop. Once the bed was down, Beau stepped over to the storage compartment to retrieve the tie straps when Ethan came around from the side of the truck.
Ethan. Not Zane.
“Need help?”
Beau stumbled forward, barely catching himself before he face-planted into the side of the truck. “Where’s Zane?” Wow, that was a stupid question, but at least he knew his voice worked.
“He had to meet with Travis.”
Figures.
Not that Beau was complaining at all. The fact that Ethan was standing just a few feet away, looking hot as sin, wasn’t going to make the task of getting his tools loaded on the truck any easier, but he couldn’t deny the fact that he was happy to see him, even if the circumstances weren’t what he would’ve hoped for.
“Here, hand me that,” Ethan instructed, nodding toward the tie strap in Beau’s hand. “I’ll get it ready while you connect the winch.”
Without hesitation, Beau handed the strap to Ethan and then moved around to the back of the truck. For the next few minutes, Ethan and Beau worked side by side, paying attention to nothing except getting their task completed. Once they had the toolbox on the bed, strapped down tight, Beau made his way back into the shop, grabbing the last of his things before returning to where Ethan was standing on the far side of the truck, double checking everything.
“Hey!” Ricky exclaimed as he came out of the open bay door. “That ain’t Zane!”
Captain Obvious, Ricky was today.
Beau turned to look at Ricky, their eyes meeting across several feet of concrete.
“That’s that fucking faggot,” Ricky said with a snarl, pointing toward Ethan, who was now making his way around to the front of the truck. “Hey Beau, did you get your girlfriend to come pick you up?”
A blind rage began churning inside of Beau, a whirlwind of both anger and fear mixing together to form a storm so powerful, he wasn’t even sure what was happening. The next thing he knew, Beau had erased the gap between him and Ricky, lifted the scrawny little fucker right off of his feet, and was holding him at least a foot off the ground by his shirt.
Someone was yelling at him. He could barely hear the voice over the roar of his own blood in his ears and the screeching noise that Ricky was making.
“Put him down, Beau. Goddammit! Put. Him. Down!”
The command was unmistakable. The voice reassuring as it continued to demand him to drop the son of a bitch. Releasing Ricky’s shirt, Beau watched as he dropped to his feet, and once he’d righted himself, a smug look on his ugly fucking face, Beau used all of his strength and shoved him. Shoved him so hard, Ricky flew back several feet, stumbling but unable to keep himself upright before he crashed into one of the diagnostic machines and landed flat on his ass.
“Let’s go,” Ethan said rigidly, wrapping his strong fingers around Beau’s bicep. When he didn’t move immediately, Ethan yanked on his arm, causing him to move his feet or fall on his ass. “I said let’s fucking go.”