Embracing His Syn, page 15
Syn’s eyes widened and he put his hand out to stop Furi’s pacing. “Furious, please quiet down.”
Furi spun on him, a hard scowl twisting his gorgeous features. “Oh yeah. I forgot for a second. You’re not gay! We sure wouldn’t want the neighbors thinking that!”
Syn’s head snapped back at Furi’s rant. “Alright. You’re upset about what just happened and you’re projecting. I’m gonna give you some alone time. There’s beer in the fridge, guest bath is down the hall. Make yourself at home.” Syn turned to go to his bedroom. He’d be damned if he was going to let Furi turn this into a fight about him accepting who he was.
“Fucking coward,” Furi mumbled.
Syn halted at his bedroom door. Did he really just fucking say that? Syn pivoted on his heels and hurried back into the living room. “What the fuck did you just call me?”
Furi’s eyes bulged at Syn’s anger. He rose slowly from his seated position and eased around to the other side of the couch. The fear on his face quickly turned to anger. “You want to fight me? Beat me up, Detective?”
“What?” Syn gasped at the absurdity of that question. He faced Furi head on and held his angry, black glare with his own. “First of all, how dare you even think for a second that I would put my hands on you in anger? Just because the bastard you chose to marry did, doesn’t mean all men hit.” Syn pointed at his chest. “I’m not a coward, Furious. In case you forgot, I just saved your goddamn life.”
“Oh no, I haven’t forgotten, but yes you’re the worst kind of coward. You’re not scared of being shot at or throwing yourself in front of two tons of speeding metal, but you’re afraid to hold a man’s hand, a man you claim to like, in public. Such a badass in the fucking street, but too pussy to admit what you really are.”
Syn wasn’t sure how long he stared at Furi before turning walking to his room, slamming the door behind him.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. Why the hell did I say that? As soon as Furi saw the hurt on Syn’s face, he’d immediately wanted to take those spiteful words back. Furi was scared shitless, and he was indeed projecting, just like Syn said he was. It wasn’t Syn’s fault that his life was so fucked right now. Actually, if it weren't for the cop, Furi would be going through this on his own; honestly, he’d be dead now. Syn was trying to stick by him, contrary to what Furi’s mind was telling him. Syn was trying to put forth the effort to be with him, and Furi wasn’t cutting him an inch of slack. Now here he was in his apartment, under his protection and he’d just insulted him so cruelly that Syn couldn’t respond.
Furi walked down the hall and stood in front of Syn’s bedroom door. His hand was poised to knock until he heard the shower running and chose to just let it go. Furi needed to leave. This was his own shitty life. Furi was supposed to be about taking back control, but what was he was doing right now besides hiding behind Syn’s secured walls. He’d let a crazy bitch run him out of his own home. Fuck this. Furi grabbed his duffle and leather jacket and left out the front door.
Furi was feeling confident until he left the apartment building and got to the street. Then a fear like none he'd ever felt struck him. It was late and dark, but people bustled by him like he wasn’t there; completely oblivious to his unease. He was running right back into harm’s way. A crazy person had literally just tried to kill him. Instead of staying where he was safe, he decided it was a good idea to leave that sanctuary and return to danger, unarmed. A car screeched to a halt three lanes over, and the sound made Furi want to dive for cover. What the fuck am I doing? Shit. When Furi thought of Syn’s words, 'Don’t let your stubbornness make you an easy target' he thought about going back upstairs. That's exactly what Furi was doing. He heaved a breath and threw his duffle back up on his shoulder, he looked across the street and saw five or six guys stumble out of his uncle’s pub laughing. Furi thought he’d just go over there to kill some time, and maybe if his uncle wasn’t in one of his moods, he would let Furi bunk on his couch for a couple days, or until they caught Sasha.
Furi speed walked across the street and hurried into the pub. His heart rate was elevated, and he was pissed because all this anxiety was driving him insane. He thought briefly of calling Doug, but he’d already told Furi that he was trying to spend a little extra time with Cel, especially since they were going to be putting in some hellish hours soon to get their shop up and running. He inched his way through the crowd, hiding his bag in the storage room so his uncle didn’t see it.
“Can you use some help, pretty girl?” Furi whispered in Candy’s ear as she hurriedly punched the register. She jumped and slapped Furi on the shoulder for sneaking up on her.
“What are you doing here on your only evening off?" she asked grinning at him, shaking her head in disbelief.
“I have no life.” He faked a smile. “Need some help?”
She turned to look at him, giving him her full attention, “Honey, are you all right?”
Furi felt the prickling of tears and immediately got angry. How dare his emotions betray his attempt at control? He wouldn’t cry about the situation, it was useless. Crying didn’t do a damn thing but waste energy. “I’m fine. Can just use a distraction is all.” He shrugged.
“Well, knock yourself out. You can take the far end. Shawn ended up having to go pick up his daughter early, leaving me to tend the entire bar.” She rolled her eyes, “And of course your useless uncle didn’t bother coming out to help me.”
“Yeah, I believe that,” Furi said, while pulling his hair back. He didn’t have on the bar’s shirt but he didn’t care, he was just helping Candy and trying to occupy his mind so that it didn’t wander to the cop across the street. The cop who had probably just gotten out the shower and realized he was missing a houseguest.
Over the next couple of hours, Furi fell into the easy routine and lost himself in the monotony of take order, make order, run tab, refill, cash out, wipe bar, repeat. He was sure some of the regulars noticed he was short on small talk tonight, but everyone’s entitled to one of those days. It was getting near closing time when Furi went in the back to stack the trash at the service door. His uncle’s door was open, so he peaked in, tapping on the frame. “Hey, Unc. Is this a bad time?”
“It’s always a bad time. What do you want?” His uncle grumbled, not even bothering to look up at him.
“My place is being fumigated can I crash on your couch?” Furi chewed his bottom lip.
This time his uncle did look up at him with a look of annoyance across his wide face.
“Three days tops,” Furi added.
“Whatever. Just bring your own washing detergent and food, because you’re not using mine.” His uncle waved him away and Furi gladly left. He really hated asking him for anything, but unfortunately, he was all the family Furi had. Nothing beats family. He came back out to the front and gasped at the large dark figure sitting at the bar. Furi’s chest constricted at the sight. He came. Furi got his legs working and slowly made his way behind bar.
“Um. Candy can you grab that order right there?” Furi pointed at the stern face staring angrily at him.
“No, thank you. I’d rather you took care of me, Furious.” It was spoken casually, but the hard, piercing glare said it was a command.
Candy's head darted back and forth between them and Furi decided it was best to leave her out of it. He walked slowly to the end of the bar and stood in front of his fuming customer.
“I left for a reason,” Furi leaned in and whispered, “I have nothing to say to you.”
“Oh, I think you have a lot to say to your husband, Furious.”
‘Still on the Chase’
Silly, ignorant, bull-headed, stubborn, high-maintenance, jackass, little prick. Syn was grumbling under his breath as he tucked his S&W into the small of his back.
When Syn came out of his room an hour later, he’d been livid to see that Furi had left. At first he threw his hands up, thinking it wasn’t going to be his problem anymore. Furi didn’t respect him and he refused to be called names and rebuffed repeatedly when he was trying his best. But the more he sat and stewed, the more his heart told him to go find the idiot and bring him back so he could protect him. No matter how much the gorgeous bastard irked him, he wanted him in the worse way. Syn threw on his coat and left his apartment.
He was heading to his truck when a cold feeling of dread ran up his spine. It was his instinct telling him something was wrong: really wrong. Syn looked up and down the busy street looking for the source of his unease. His eye’s landed on the lit-up sign of the pub across the street. Are you in there, you fool?
Syn jogged across the street, pulling the door open with too much force, quickly scanning the bar area. Sure enough, Furi was behind the bar, working. Syn sat down in his usual seat, noticing that the place was slowing down since it was closing in about a half-hour. There were a few booths occupied, and at the bar were only three people still sitting, nursing drinks. Two men dressed in expensive business suits sat nearby while he waited for Furi to turn around and acknowledge him. He gave a quick head nod to the two men, thinking they were over-dressed for this place. They looked like corporate types, but were built like Mack trucks.
Furi turned to face him and Syn immediately saw the fearful eyes, the closed-in-on-himself posture, and most of all, the relief that flashed across his face at seeing Syn. He jerked his head for Furi to come down to him. Furi took a napkin from the holder and placed it in front of Syn with shaking hands. Okay, something is very wrong. “Furious. Why did you leave?”
“I thought you wanted me to,” Furi leaned in, speaking quietly.
“If I’d wanted you to leave, I would’ve told you to,” Syn said directly. He was watching Furi closely and saw him cut his eyes down to the two men in the suits. “Furious. What’s the matter?”
“It’s ... it’s ... nothing,” Furi insisted.
Syn looked down at the men who were casually talking then turned back to Furi. “You’re coming back with me. Now. Let’s go.”
Furi shook his head no.
“Furious, I’m not going–” Syn’s phone rang cutting off his words. He didn’t break eye contact with Furious as he pulled out the phone. “Syn.”
Syn listened intently to his Lieutenant while watching Furi dart his obviously frightened eyes back and forth from the bar to those suits.
“Yeah, Day. I’m at the pub across the street, alright. See ya’ in ten.” Syn hung up, tucked his phone into his pocket and waited for Furi to look back at him. “Come on we’re leaving.”
“I gotta put the trash out. I’ll be back,” Furious told him distractedly.
What aren’t you telling me? Furi’s body language was screaming his discomfort, but Syn didn’t know the man well enough yet to know exactly what it was. So he wouldn’t keep guessing. He was getting Furi out of there period. Syn’s phone rang again this time it was Ronowski. “I’m going to take this out front. Meet me outside as soon as you finish.” His eyes caught Furi’s again, but only for a second. “Five minutes.” He told him and got off his stool to wait for him out front.
Syn waited by his truck while talking to Ronowski. Ro told him that Sasha Pain had been picked up along with two other girls. Sasha and one other female performer, Angelica were being real tight-lipped, but Ronowski believed he could get the other one to talk. He wanted Syn in on the interrogation.
“Yeah, Day and God are in my area and are coming by to get me. We should be there shortly.” Syn disconnected the call and checked his watch. It’d been seven minutes. Syn followed his first instinct and headed back inside the pub.
‘Asshole is in the Dictionary, Right Next to Fuck You’
Furi was so happy to see Syn’s handsome face that he’d wanted to hurdle the bar, throw himself in the man’s muscular arms and beg his forgiveness for being such an ass. Not only was his abusive husband, Patrick there but he’d brought his crazy asshole brother too. In the past twenty minutes Patrick had only said a couple words to him, but Brenden kept shooting him heated glares as they casually sipped their beers. Furi didn’t know if they were waiting for him to leave, or what, but they were acting very strange. He wanted to tell Syn that Patrick was right there beside him, but he didn’t want to start a problem in his uncle’s place. He’d simply leave with his fierce protector and urge Syn to get the restraining order, which would take care of everything. One thing Patrick wouldn’t do is risk publicly humiliating himself and his company by getting arrested.
Furi was double-timing it emptying the trash with no intention of going back inside. He would simply walk up the alley and meet Syn at his truck, leaving Patrick and Bren inside wondering when he was coming back.
“So, darlin, this is where you’ve been hiding yourself, huh? All that time I spent searching for you, and here you were all along. With the trash.” Patrick’s voice was calm and even; it usually was right before he went crazy–all over Furi's face. He looked around the alley; full of dumpsters, empty liquor bottles, discarded food, and shook his head disgustedly. “Well when I met you, you were slumming it, so obviously that’s where you’d run back to.” Patrick was talking about his father’s garage. He may have thought it was a dump, but many people believed it was a pretty awesome place. Furi rued the day he let Patrick’s smooth talking charm take him away from it.
“I must admit, not changing your name back to your father’s was fairly smart. Really, made it hard for the PI to find you. Bren said to ‘let it go’ you weren’t 'worth it.' But I believed that you would come back eventually. Then out of the blue, surprise, I’m served. AT MY FUCKING BUSINESS! With DIVORCE PAPERS! So goddamn disrespectful.” Furi flinched at his husband’s quick rage.
“I knew you never were too bright, darlin, but come on. You had to know I wouldn’t just let you go after all the money I spent on you.”
“I left everything and you fucking know it!” Furi yelled. “I couldn't care less about fancy clothes and expensive jewelry. It’s all worthless now, isn’t it? Tell me something, Pat. Is your Rolex keeping you warm at night?”
Furi jumped back when Brenden moved closer, but Patrick put his arm out to stop his brother from advancing for now.
“Patrick, just leave. We’re not good together; if you just think about it for a second, I mean really think about it, you’ll realize that you don’t want me. You just wanna save face. But that’s not what marriage is about.” Furi needed to keep him talking, he was trapped and he knew it. He could feel the sweat dripping down his back. The dumpsters were at the end of the alley, about twenty feet from the back door of the pub. Patrick and Bren had closed in on him, there was no escape. All he could hope for right now was that Syn would get tired of waiting and come looking for him before his husband and brother-in-law could do too much damage.
“What are you talking about? I love you and you love me too.” Patrick leered. “If you really think about, you’ll realize that I’m right.” He mocked Furi.
Bren was standing right beside his brother, ready to do what he’d wanted to do since Furi married Patrick. He wanted to beat him beyond recognition. Furi tore his livid eyes away from Brenden, turning a sorrowful gaze on his husband. His once sweet, sensitive, and charming husband. “Patrick please, just go home, back to your comfortable life, without an un-wanted husband in it, complicating things. When we got married I believe you really did love me but you changed in every way.” Furi squeezed his eyes shut against the flashes of memory that rushed to the forefront of his mind. He’d tried desperately to put those demons to rest. “You started to beat me after we made love. Who the fuck does that? It was like some switch flipped in you and you couldn’t deal with being gay anymore.”
Patrick shook his head disbelievingly. “That’s ignorant but I’d expect nothing less from your mouth. I don’t have time for this conversation and this garbage smells. Let’s go, now, Furious. I’m not going to repeat myself.”
Fuck. “NO! I’m going to move on with my life. I’m going to open my own garage and just live a peaceful life that doesn’t involve frequent trips to the emergency room. You don’t want me, Pat. You want a househusband. I’m not that kind of man. You had me believing that you’d be supportive of my dreams, but you knew you’d never be happily married to a mechanic.”
“How can you fix cars with two broken arms?” Brenden sneered.
Furi gulped hard but did his best to put on a brave face. He refused to give that shitdick the satisfaction of appearing scared. “Is this why you want me to come back? To be a fucking punching bag for you and your brother?” Furi yelled. His voice had gone deeper with anger and fear.
“You are coming back whether you want to or not. Now, we can do this the easy way, where you come get in the car, or you can wake up in my bed later, after being knocked unconscious. Either way works for me.”
“I’m not coming back,” Furi growled. “I’m divorcing you, end of fuckin’ discussion.”
Furi should’ve been prepared for Brenden’s hard punch to his diaphragm; but it knocked the wind out of him and had him falling on his ass to the filthy concrete alley. Furi got to one knee and gritted his teeth, staring up at his husband. “Do what you want you bastard. I’m not coming back. I’d rather die right here.” Brenden came at him again. This time Furi was able to block the serious damage, but his brother-in-law’s kick to his chest sent him flying to the ground again. Furi rolled to his stomach, clenching his teeth at the pain, refusing to cry out. He could hear Brenden’s footsteps coming closer. Furi reached out and picked up an empty wine bottle and spun around, bringing the bottle down as hard as he could, shattering it against Brenden’s bad knee. The scream that erupted from him made Furi feel slightly victorious. He knew the man had two ACL injuries from football, he hoped he’d stopped him long enough to get around him, but he was wrong.
“You little shit,” Brenden yelled, doubled over from the pain in his knee.
Patrick reached out, grabbing Furi around the neck, scowling in his face. “You had to do it the hard way. I’m going to make sure that you’re never able to run away again.”
