But whatever, a bit writing helps, so, here is the next part from my new epic story. Hope you like ...
Title: Highspeed to love (2 / ???)
Fandom: Zeke; OMC (no pairings, no Casey - at least not in the moment)
Disclaimer: of course, not mine
Author's notes: AU without Marybeth and Herrington High - Zeke is 23 years old in this story, living in Youngstown, Ohio - Casey, yeah, we will see
Previous parts: one
Ben pulled the door shut and threw a look at the three cars in the garage.
"Quite busy today, huh?"
Zeke looked up from his work..
"We need to talk, Ben!"
Zeke could feel the distrust coming from Ben.
"I'm gonna come straight to the point, okay? What's going on here?"
Ben blinked confused.
"What do you mean?"
"You are secretly coming back here after work. Why?"
For a moment Ben kept quiet. Zeke stared at him with narrowed eyes. He wouldn't deny it, right? At least he would have the courage to admit it. Whatever 'it' was. But finally Ben shook the head.
"I don't know what you are talking about," he stated.
"I can't come back when you're gone. I've no key, remember?"
Zeke snorted annoyed.
"Oh c'mon, Ben, we both know, you can find ways to come in here even without a key! I'm not looking for trouble. So, what do you have in mind, huh? Did you use the garage as a hiding place? For what? Stolen goods? Or ... drugs? You cannot be that stupid!"
He saw him wincing. He saw the pained expression in his eyes. And he knew, he had hurt him.
"Do you really think I would do this to you? Oh, fuck you, Zeke!"
When he turned back to the door, Zeke stopped him.
"Ben, wait! What are you doing?"
"Leaving! If you can't trust me ... "
Zeke sighed. This was not what he had wanted. He liked the boy. And for a moment he felt unsure. What if he was wrong? If it was someone else who sneaked into his repair shop repeatedly. But why?
Here certainly was not much to steal, though the tools might be worth some money. And in the old desk in the office the lockbox with the change. Easy prey. A burglar would take everything of value and never come back. But nothing was missed! Instead of this someone cleared the garage and did the dishes.
All that made no sense.
"Ben! Talk to me if you're in difficulties ... before it's late! I might be able to help you."
"I don't need your help, Zeke. I'm used to deal with my shit alone, you know!"
With that he was vanished. Zeke sighed deeply and then turned back to the old Pick-up. Work needed to be done. But it would be a long, quiet weekend this time. He could only hope, that the boy didn't do silly things and that he would be back monday afternoon.
It was in the middle of the night from Sunday to Monday when Zeke rudely awoke. Bleary-eyed he glanced over to the alarm clock - just four thirty. Much too early. Normally nothing could disrupt his sleep. Then he heard it.
Slight noises, coming from downstairs, from the garage. In a flash he was wide awake. He slipped into his Jeans and then he sneaked outside. The door to the garage was closed, but voices could be heard. Ben's low but angry voice and a second, unknown one. Zeke cursed inwardly. He had hoped that the whole story would come to an end after his talk with Ben.
What next? There were at least two of them and he was alone. He knew nothing about what was going on. It could be a dealer with his gun. But there still was Ben. He was not a bad boy. Zeke knew from own experience how difficult it could be to leave the past and wrong friends behind. Without Simon he had never made it. Simon had let him find his own way, had only pushed him a bit now and then, but he had always been there for him when he needed a friend.
He had wanted to be the same for Ben. Maybe he had failed. But he was not ready to abandon him that quickly. Cautiously he opened the door and sneaked into the repair shop. He would give him one last chance to explain what was going on here.
At first sight the garage seemed to be empty, but there was a faint light beam coming out of the office. Zeke got closer. The voices became clearer.
"And what's this," he could hear Ben's harsh voice.
"What do you hide there? Fucking thief!"
"Give it back! This is mine!"
The second voice, loud and furious now, as if someone didn't care any longer whether he could be heard or not.
A bit groaning and yelping, a sharp slap and a muffled cry. Zeke pushed open the door to the office.
There was Ben. And another young guy, much too young, small and of slight build, with tousled, brown hair. He was struggling against Ben's grip, but Ben was bigger and stronger. He pressed him against the wall with just one hand, gave him no chance to escape. When he raised his other hand to hit him again, Zeke decided that it was about time.
"Ben! Stop it!"
Ben let his hand drop, but he didn't let him go. The boy turned his head to look at him. Zeke blinked. For a moment he could see nothing else than these eyes. Sparkling with defiance and anger. Blue, so deep blue. He tore himself away from them, back to the cheek, which had already turned dark red from a hard slap. One look back at Ben.
"So, tell me, what the hell is all this about," he asked.
go to part three