Page 64 of Nothing Special X: The Last Stand

The house was quiet, but not peaceful. Not with his friend Mason’s voice still ricocheting in the back of his mind.

His last delivery had been across town, a stupidly expensive sushi order to a woman who’d stared at him through her ring camera for several seconds before telling him to leave it on the bench.

On his way back to his car, sweat sticking his shirt to his back and irritation chewing at the base of his skull, his phone rang.

Mason’s name flashed across his screen, making him smile.

Mason was a brilliant, tough-as-hell cop. After he’d made detective, he’d been on the fast track to joining the task force before the audit bullshit. He had the instincts for it too, that hunger for real justice and a grit strong enough for the work.

Syn had liked him almost immediately and Free loved him.

He answered before the second ring.

“Yo, Mase. Long time no hear, man. How’s the new title treatin’ ya?”

Mason laughed, low and easy. “Well, it’s not as exciting as the task force would’ve been, but I can get used to not wearing that blue polyester in one-hundred-and-five-degree heat.”

“No doubt,” Syn chuckled as he unlocked his car. “How’s Jesse?”

“He’s great. He’s been made head of the English department at the high school. We’re going out to celebrate this weekend. I wanted to ask if you and Furi could join us, make it a double celebration.”

Syn snorted, tossing the empty delivery bag onto the passenger seat.

“Oh yeah? And what am I celebrating? The fact that I haven’t been brought up on charges by IA yet?”

Mason laughed again. “I meant Furi. His new video that came out last week is breaking records. You guys must be through the roof. I didn’t know he was back in the business. Jesse loves his films. He says they’re classy and romantic, not like the weird shit their putting out these days.”

Syn stopped moving, the car door hanging open.

What?

“Sydney?”

Silence.

“Bro, you still there?”

Mason’s jovial energy died on the line.

Syn couldn’t answer as he stared over the roof of his car seeing nothing, his ears filling with a low buzzing pressure.

“Shit,” Mason muttered. “Syn, I…”

More silence.

“Damn man, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize that you didn’t…”

Know a single fucking thing about it? No I didn’t.

“I just…I didn’t watch it. I’d never,” Mason hurried and added. “I only know about it because Jesse was talking my ear off and…”

Syn squeezed the phone.

Mason was quiet a beat longer, then said in a somber voice, “I’m sorry.”

The line went dead.

Syn sat there sweating for another full ten minutes with the phone still gripped in his fist.