Operation 12 When Love Lies #2
When they sat, the waitress came over with more beers. Furi thanked her, waited until she left, then realized now the spotlight was on him.
He had no idea how or where to start.
His mouth went dry and his palms grew so damp he had to wipe them on his jeans.
“So,” Michaels said, absently peeling the label from his bottle. “Why’d you call an emergency meeting?”
“I didn’t say it was an emergency.”
Ro raised one blond brow. “You said please.”
Hart leaned back, his chair protesting with a loud creak. “You actually called me…no one calls me.”
Furi forced a breath out and took another long sip of his beer.
“I just wanted to see how you guys have been. It’s been a couple months, and with the task force shut down, or paused, audited, whatever-the-hell they’re calling it, I wanted to check in with everyone.”
Ro stared at him.
Michaels’s mouth twitched.
Hart crossed his big arms over his chest. “Bullshit.”
Furi glared at them. “I’m serious.”
“You’re stalling,” Hart rumbled.
“I can care about how you’ve been.”
“You can,” Michaels agreed. “But I know you didn’t call us here for a wellness check.
But I’ll humor you anyway. I’ve been chillin’.
I’m learning tai chi because my man thinks its sexy.
I’ve gotten into birdwatching, which is a lot more interesting than it sounds.
A couple weeks ago I tried goat yoga…I don’t recommend it.
I jog about six miles every day. And I’m finally golfing a single-digit handicap. ”
Ro laughed. “Single-digit my ass.”
“Noted. Don’t do goat yoga.” Furi tipped his head at Ro. “And how have you been?”
Ro laughed under his breath. “I’ve been bored and missing my team.
But over this break, I’ve realized that I’m not getting any younger, and kicking in doors, hopping six-foot fences, and jumping outta two-story windows is for rookies with good knees.
I’m thinking of using my impressive skills elsewhere now. ”
“So you gonna take me and Judge up on our offer?” Micheals sat up taller, a wide smile splitting his handsome face.
Ro nodded once. “If the task force is over…then yeah. I think we’ll make damn good private investigators.”
“Fuck yeah we will!” Micheals jabbed Ro in his chest.
“Wow,” Furi said. “That sounds great. Looks like everyone has a plan.”
Except his Syn.
“What about you, Hart?” Furi asked.
“SWAT still exists, Styles.” Hart grunted. “I’ve been working.”
“Right.”
Everyone went quiet as Furi struggled to make eye contact.
“This is about the new video you made for Illustra, isn’t it?” Micheals blurted.
Furi choked on his own saliva.
Hart turned his head and spat his mouthful of beer onto the floor.
Ro slapped his hand over his eyes. “Geez, man. You could’ve just let him get it out on his own.”
Michaels pfft’d. “Then we might’ve ended up being here all night.”
Furi’s face heated so quickly he thought it might combust.
Hart wiped his beard with a napkin. “You went back to porn?”
“I’m not back.”
Michaels chuckled into his bottle. “Oh, he’s back all right.”
Furi didn’t make eye contact when he asked. “Did you watch it?”
“What the hell kind of question is that?” Michaels frowned as if he was insulted. “Of course I did.”
Ro and Hart gaped at their friend.
Michaels held the silence for a couple more seconds before his mouth pulled into a sly grin. “No, I didn’t watch it. Jesus. I have more respect for my brother than that. But I do have a subscription, so I saw the preview.”
Hart lowered his deep voice. “Is that why you asked me here? You want me to tell Free to make it disappear?”
The offer was shocking, Furi hadn’t thought about Hart’s hacker boyfriend. If he said the word, Free would crash Illustra’s entire site and bury it so deep in cyberspace, Mack could hire a thousand techs, and they’d still never find it.
It was tempting, but Furi shook his head. “I signed a contract. I’m gonna honor my end of the deal.”
Michaels’s amusement faded. “So what did Syn say?”
Furi took another drink of beer. Then another. He drank until the bottle was empty, set it down with too much care then signaled the waitress for another.
Ro went statue-still.
Michaels’ mouth dropped open and stayed there.
Hart’s jaw was so tight, it looked painful.
“He doesn’t know,” Furi confessed.
“You think he doesn’t know,” Ro said.
“Trust me, he doesn’t.” Furi dragged both hands down his face.
Ro appeared disappointed, and that was almost worse than anger.
At least none of them had gotten up and walked out. They loved Syn. They were brothers in the real way, the blood-shed-for-each-other kind of way.
“He’s been too busy working himself to death,” Furi said.
All three men seemed confused first, then concerned.
Ro leaned forward. “What does that mean?”
“Well,” he said, picking up the fresh bottle of beer the waitress put in front of him. “Since I’m already dead, I might as well drill the final nail in my coffin.”
Hart narrowed his eyes. “Styles.”
Furi glanced toward the bar. “I think I need something stronger.”
“No, you don’t,” Hart growled. “Spit it out.”
The command was so powerful, Furi snapped back around.
The words clogged in his throat for a long moment before he admitted. “We’ve been having some financial problems…a lot of problems.”
Nobody spoke.
Damnit, he hated this, but he was in too deep to stop now.
He wondered how much he should tell.
Did he talk about the cutoff notices or the bill collectors calling day and night?
Did he tell them about Syn lying awake next to him while calculating whether they could pay his vendors that week at the shop or the car payment, or whether he should sell another bike below value to buy them one more month?
“Um. The shop took a hit about a year and a half ago. A bad one.”
“Damn,” Michaels exhaled. “That sucks.”
“Corbin sacrificed so much trying to help me rebound.”
His voice roughened despite how hard he was fighting it.
“He damn near depleted his savings and borrowed on his 401K to get me through it. But, after the damn Daytona show tanked, I had to lay off ninety percent of my staff.” He laughed, bitter and small. “Now my shop’s just me and a bunch of bikes people can’t afford.”
Furi stared down at the table. He didn’t want to go on but he needed them to understand why he did what he did.
“Then the task force shuts down, and Syn loses his overtime, tactical bonuses, and all that other stuff that kept us in the green. And instead of asking for help or telling anyone, or going to LA, he stayed home to help me.”
Micheals threw his hands up. “Why the hell didn’t he tell anyone?”
Ro scoffed. “Yeah right. There’s no way Syn would ask for help…especially financial help.”
“Exactly.” Furi bit out sharper than he’d meant to. “He wanted to go to Hollywood. I know he did. He pretended he didn’t, but I saw it. Every time one of those pictures came through, he’d— ”
Furi’s eyes burned, and he blinked fast to hide it. “He should’ve been there. Instead he was stuck here doing administrative or custodial shit in the shop and delivering food until late, and its…I know it’s killing him.”
“Dammit,” Ro bit out. “That overly proud motherfucker.”
Hart rubbed a hand over his beard, his expression grim.
“It sounds like all of you,” Furi said. “Bullheaded when it comes to letting somebody else carry the weight.”
“I get it, Furi. I really do. There’s not much we won’t do for our guys.” Hart’s stern glare held his. “But hell. You should’ve talked to him first.”
Furi slammed his fist onto the table loud enough to draw a couple of looks from the guys at the bar. “He would’ve said no.”
He lowered his voice but not the force behind it.
“He would’ve said no. He would’ve told me he’d figure it out, then gone back out until two in the morning and come home pretending his back didn’t hurt from driving all night.
He would’ve worked himself to death until there was nothing left of him.
” Furi’s jaw trembled, and he hated that too.
“If I had to swallow my pride to protect him for a change, then so be it.”
Silence settled over the table for too long.
Ro was the first to speak. “What is it you want us to do?”
Furi leaned forward, fingers locked because his hands wouldn’t stay still. “When I tell him, he might react badly.”
Michaels grimaced. “How badly?”
“I don’t know.” Furi’s throat tightened. “Angry. Hurt. Quiet. Corbin’s quiet is far worse than his loud. Maybe he’ll think I didn’t trust him and went behind his back because I didn’t believe he could take care of us. I don’t fuckin’ know.”
Ro opened his mouth, but Furi shook his head and kept going.
“I need you to help him understand how much I love him.” He lowered his voice, knowing it sounded raw and full of anguish.
“That there’s nothing I won’t do for him.
Nothing. Even if it makes him mad. Even if it makes him hate me for a while.
Please convince him that I did it because he’s not the only one willing to sacrifice all of himself for the man he loves. ”
Michaels reached across the table and squeezed his hand. “Syn is crazy about you. You guys have been through a lot. You’ll get through this too.”
Hart pointed at him. “But you tell him tonight. You hear me?”
Furi bit his bottom lip as the nerves he’d been fighting all week, roared back to the forefront.
“Not tomorrow,” Hart stressed. “Tonight.”
“I know.”
“No, you don’t know, because you’ve already let it go a week.”
Furi flinched.
Ro reached for his beer. “And if he acts like a martyr, I’ll handle him.”
Hart sat back. “Free can still make this disappear for you.”
Furi shook his head again, despite how much he wanted to say, ‘yes’.
They played pool after that and no one mentioned the videos anymore.
When the second game ended, Furi set the cue back on the rack, knowing he couldn’t stall any longer.
Syn would be heading out to delivery drive soon if he wasn’t already.
They each hugged him again before he got on his bike.
“Call me after,” Ro said.
Furi nodded against his shoulder. “I will.”
“I mean it.”
“I know.”