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“How dare you?” He asked when Beau pulled him into the office and closed the door. “You had absolutely no right doing what you did.”

“Rocky,” the man let out a sigh and ran his hand through his hair as he looked over at the younger male, eyebrows arched. “You're right. I shouldn't have punched him, but somebody had to because you clearly weren’t gonna--”

Rocky glared at the other, tilting his head and taking a step forward. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me. That man is a piece of shit and you deserve so much better than that, Rocky! You don’t deserve to have the tar beaten out of you for no damn reason-or any reason at all for that matter--”

“Beau, I already told you that was one time and it was an accident--”

“Fucking bullshit it was an accident. Being high isn’t an excuse and it sure as hell doesn't warrant him beating you up as an accident regardless. What about that second time huh? This isn’t just the first time he’s done this.”

Rocky frowned, rubbing his upper arm as he looked the older man over. “He didn’t do that. I already told you that we were bar hoppin’ and we got into a bar fight. I’m not making that shit up.”

Beau shook his head as he crossed his arms, taking a seat on the edge of his office desk. He glanced over to the side and out the window into the garage, making sure nobody was trying to eavesdrop in on their conversation. “That’s what you said about the first beating, Rocky. You said you got into a bar fight. Sydney even admitted to fucking you up that time so you can’t cover for him there. How do I know the second time isn’t being covered up, too?”

By that point, Rocky was close to tears. Yeah, he covered it up the first time because he was scared, but he wasn’t lying about the second time. They got into a bar fight… Right? To be honest, that night’s memories were a little fuzzy. But he was sure, if Sydney had beaten him that time, he would have remembered. He definitely would have remembered something like that and he doesn’t remember it at all. Besides, if he were that drunk, there would've been no way Sydney could’ve beaten him up in that state of mind. His coordination would’ve been way too off. Yeah!

He told that much to his boss, but the man just looked at him.

“When are you going to grow up and realize that you’re in the shit house, Rocky? You’re in an abusive relationship and your head is so far up Sydney’s ass that you can’t even fucking see it. That man isn’t as great as you claim him to be.”

“No.”

“He’s fake.”

“Stop it.”

“That smile he gives everyone? It’s nothing but a charm to trick people.”

“He’s not fake,” Rocky replied, his breathing picking up as he tightened his fists. “That man loves me and he’s shown it to me plenty of times!”

Those words sent a spark through Beau that had him stand up straight. He stormed over to Rocky and grabbed his shirt and shook him once or twice, so close to the man’s face that their noses almost touched. “Wake up you lovesick idiot!! Because if you don’t you’re gonna end up stuck--”

“Get off me.” Rocky pushed the man back, jerking himself out of his grasp. His eyes were dangerous, dark and narrowed as he looked at the older male. “He proposed to me.”

Beau’s eyebrow quirked, staring at the brunette. “You can’t be serious. You didn’t--”

“I did,” he replied without missing a beat. “The ring is out in the glovebox of the truck.”

A scoff left the older man’s lips and he shook his head, running a hand through his hair as he glanced down at the floor. He stood there for a long time, saying nothing. He thought on the situation, gave the nape of his neck a light scratch, then took a deep breath.

Beau looked up at Rocky again, his expression soft as he took in the sight of the twenty-seven year old.

Rocky was a man now, and Beau had seen him age and mature through the four years he’d known him, taken care of him, given him anything he needed or asked for.

“You love him that much, huh?” He asked scanning Rocky’s face, his own blue eyes tired. “You’re willing to get marreid to him. That’s how much you love him?”

He swallowed hard, but Rocky nodded in reply.

There wasn’t any helping it, then. Beau walked over to the door of his office and opened it, standing there with his hand on the knob. “Get out.”

Rocky blinked at him, “What?”

“Get out of my office. Get out of my shop. You’re fired.”

The brunette saw red. “You’re firing me over something as trivial as my--”

“No, Rocky. I’m firing you because I can’t stand to see you come into work beaten to a pulp. I won’t do it. I can’t. So get out and don’t come back.”

And just like that, something inside Rocky broke. His eyes went wide as he looked back at the older man.

That was it?

It was over.