Operation 12 When Love Lies #5
Syn turned back to him, chest rising, eyes burning. “How much?”
Furi didn’t want to say it. God help him he didn’t want to say it.
“Furious,” Syn growled.
“So far…a little over thirty-four thousand,” he mumbled.
Syn’s eyes widened.
The anger on his face broke apart, shock taking its place. Then humiliation.
Syn glanced away. “Wow.”
“Corbin.”
“No, that’s…” Syn scoffed, as if he was trying to make sense of it all. “Damn. I guess you showed me.”
“Don’t say that.”
“Say what?”
“Like I did this to make you feel small or not needed.”
Syn’s gaze cut back to him. “Didn’t you?”
The tears welling in Furi’s eyes burned. He fought them back because tears wouldn’t help, they’d only seem like manipulation.
But staring at Syn’s face nearly undid him. The embarrassment in his eyes was something he hadn’t prepared for.
Anger, yes. Confusion, maybe.
But not this.
“I surely wouldn’t make that delivering food, huh?” Syn laughed harshly.
Furi sighed. “I just wanted to help. Why do you think you’re the only one who can make sacrifices?”
Syn stared at him incredulously. “There are hundreds of other jobs besides adult entertainment. Construction, lineman, commercial driving, repairmen. But I guess the gorgeous Furious Styles wouldn’t be caught dead doing such menial work.”
Furi’s sadness shifted to frustration, then annoyance, to hot defensiveness. He’d done the only thing he could think of that would stop the roof from falling in on their heads.
Yeah, maybe he’d gone about it the wrong way, he should’ve been truthful. But he’d be damned if he was going to just stand there and let Syn twist it as if he’d done it for vanity.
“So I fuckin jerked off on camera,” Furi snapped, throwing one hand out. “So-the-hell-what. These videos will help us until the shop stabilizes, and these internal affairs fuckers pull their heads out of their asses and let you go back to work.”
Syn went very still before he gritted between clenched teeth. “‘Videos’…as in plural.”
Furi froze.
Shit.
Syn frowned. “How many?”
Furi looked at the broken laptop on the floor, then back at the man he loved. There was no point in shaving pieces off the truth now. He straightened his spine. “Three.”
Syn’s nostrils flared.
“They’re already recorded. Now I’m done.”
Syn scoffed. “Where have I heard that before?”
Furi’s temper blazed hotter.
“You think you’re the only one who has to make hard decisions?” he demanded. “You think because you’re out there grinding yourself into the pavement that I’m supposed to sit at home like some goddamn kept man and wait for you to fix everything?”
Syn’s expression darkened, but Furi didn’t stop.
“I’ve had a man who owned me already, Corbin. I’m not interested in another.”
The second the words left his mouth, regret hit so violently he almost stumbled.
Syn blinked at him.
No explosion. No answer. Just a blink, slow and stunned.
Furi’s gut clenched.
Had he really just reached into the ugliest part of his past, dragged out the thought of his abusive ex-husband, and put Syn beside him?
How fucking dare he place Syn’s name anywhere near that man’s?
Syn had never tried to own or control him. Never raised a hand to him or made him feel small in order to feel big.
He covered his face with both hands, then dragged them back over his hair, squeezing his eyes shut. “I didn’t mean that,” he said, voice breaking. “Corbin, I’m so sorry. That was cruel. You didn’t deserve that. I was upset and scared…I didn’t mean it.”
Syn didn’t answer.
When Furi opened his eyes, Syn was bent behind the counter, then came back up holding a medium-sized suitcase.
Furi’s mind went white.
No. No, no, no. What the fuck?
Panic seized him so hard his chest forgot how to expand.
“No,” Furi said.
Syn reached for his keys.
“No, wait.” Furi moved before Syn could get around the counter, his body acting before pride had a chance to interfere. “Corbin, I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to lie to you. I swear I’ll never do it again.”
Syn moved past him, luggage in one hand, keys in the other.
Furi leapt back into his path.
“Please,” he said, not caring he was begging. “Please, don’t go.”
Syn stopped.
They were close enough that Furi could see the pulse working in his jaw, the redness at the edges of his eyes. But Syn wouldn’t face him. His gaze landed everywhere except on his.
“I need some space,” Syn mumbled, his voice flat and defeated. “Time to think.”
“We need to talk about this.” Furi planted himself more firmly between Syn and the door. “We can work this out.”
Syn shook his head. “Move, Furi.”
“No.”
Syn’s eyes snapped up then and Furi saw everything. The betrayal. The humiliation. The rage.
“Don’t make me push past you,” he said quietly.
Furi reached for him anyway, closing both hands around Syn’s shoulders. “Corbin.”
Syn’s body went rigid. “Don’t,” he warned.
Furi held on. “Please don’t go. Let’s just breathe for a second, then sit down and talk rationally.”
Syn shrugged him off. Not violently, or hard…but enough to make him drop his hands.
The tears welled before he could stop them. He blinked them back, jaw tight, throat burning. “You’re gonna leave me because of this?” he asked. “For trying to help you?”
Syn’s face twisted. “Don’t do that.”
“Answer me.”
Syn let out a harsh breath. “I just need some time, Furi.”
“How much time?”
“I don’t know.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It’s the only one I’ve got.”
“Corbin, please.”
Syn’s gaze found his, and the fire there changed into something rawer. Painfully depleted. Not work-tired. Soul-tired.
“I can’t stay in this house right now.” He closed his eyes, frown lines marring his forehead. “I just need some space.”
“Okay, okay, I understand. I’ll sleep in the den, I won’t hound you, I promise. I’ll give you space,” Furi scrambled.
He was for sure begging now— there was nothing elegant or pretty about it. But he couldn’t just stand there and watch the best thing in his life, his entire world, walk out of the door.
Syn picked up the luggage. “Let me go.”
Furi wanted to drop to his knees and wrap his arms around Syn’s legs. Wanted to say every desperate thing clawing at his throat—I love you. I’m sorry. I was stupid. I was wrong. Don’t leave me here alone.
But Syn had asked Furi to let him go, and like it or not, Furi had already taken too much choice from him…so he moved.
Syn stepped around him and opened the door.
Furi turned, watching him cross the short distance down the driveway.
Syn’s shoulders were straight, his strides determined.
He stood there until Syn closed himself inside his truck and started the engine.
He watched him back out and drive away. Furi waited, holding his breath for the brake lights to illuminate, then reverse.
It never happened.
Furi slid down the wall, shoulders hunched forward, as all the air left him in one broken rush.
“Fuck!” he hollered.
He banged his elbow repeatedly into the wall behind him until pain shot up his arm.
“Goddammit!”
He pressed the heel of his hand against his eyes until sparks flashed behind his lids. His head beat so hard he could barely think. Every sharp breath was laced like panic.
He didn’t know how long he sat there.
A few minutes…an hour, he didn’t know, before he yanked his phone out of his pocket with shaking fingers and stabbed at the contact.
Ro picked up on the first ring.
“How’d it go?” he asked.
The sound of his voice, gentle and braced for bad news, broke the last thin thread Furi had been hanging from.
He tried to answer but a harsh, tortured breath pushed through first.
“Furi, talk to me,” Ro said.
Furi hunched forward, one hand gripping the phone, the other pressed to his mouth as a sob tore through him.
“He left,” Furi choked, before the dam finally collapsed.