Page 68 of Nothing Special X: The Last Stand

The screen showed an elegant black title card offering replay, related content, bonus interviews, behind-the-scenes stills, and the next scheduled release date.

Syn didn’t move.

He was soft, not a flicker of arousal in him, not one damn spark. His body had gone cold. The resentment took up too much room for anything else. It worked up his arms, stomach, chest, throat until it hummed behind his teeth.

The dishonesty was too much.

Furi had lied.

Did he really think he could hide something this massive?

That was the part Syn kept circling like a complex crime scene.

If only Furi had come to him first, sat him down, told him they were drowning, and that snake Mack had made him an offer, and he was considering it to save them.

He would’ve said a hard no. He knew that…and so did Furi.

So instead, Furi had lied straight to his face, and Syn had already pieced together when he’d done it.

The weekend before last, Furi said he needed a couple of days away. A camping trip with his friend Doug. A chance to clear his head, and Syn had believed him because his partner wasn’t a liar.

He’d wanted Furi to go and have some fun, to get away from the shop, and bills and Syn’s own foul mood filling the house like poison.

He’d kissed him goodbye. Told him to ride safe and call if he needed anything. Told him he loved him.

And instead of doing that, Furi had gone to record this.

Syn didn’t move from the counter and stayed that way until he heard the low, familiar rumble of Furi’s Harley turning onto their street.

He forced his breathing to stay controlled.

Because if he let it loose—

Furious

Syn’s truck was in the driveway when Furi turned onto their street.

The sight punched a cold hole through the middle of him.

It was a little after nine, which meant Syn was late leaving for his night shift. He should’ve been gone already.

Furi slowed his bike.

For one desperate second, he thought about backing out, riding around the block, giving himself five more minutes to figure out the perfect way to say everything.

No!

He’d spent a week swallowing the truth until it scraped him raw going down.

Furi dragged in a breath, then another, swung off the bike, and forced his legs to move.

He came in through the garage door, keeping his steps quiet on the couple of steps into the laundry room.

The house was dark.

Furi hooked his keys on the small peg by the door and stepped into the kitchen, feeling for the wall switch. He flipped the light on and damn near jumped out of his boots.

“Shit!”