Page 28 of Nothing Special X: The Last Stand

Syn cursed under his breath.

“But it’s enough to keep the lights on another few months,” Furi rushed to add. “Maybe longer if business picks up.”

The devastated expression on Syn’s face almost killed him.

He knew it was a long shot too. Business hadn’t picked up in over a year.

“Hey,” Furi said softly, closing the distance between them. “Maybe the task force’ll be back up and running by—.”

Syn laughed bitterly. “I told you not to bet on that.” He shook his head. “Honestly? It’d probably be better if they just shut the damn thing down already so I can move on to another agency or something.”

Furi hated hearing him talk like that.

The task force wasn’t just a job to Syn. It was his purpose, his family, his identity.

Furi leaned in until they touched chest to chest, foreheads together.

Syn slid the black bandana off Furi’s head and ran his fingers slowly through the thick, honey-wheat-colored locks, and closed his eyes.

Furi kissed him gently at first, then harder.

Syn grabbed his waist, pulling him in tight enough to make heat spark between them. Their mouths moved rough and hungry, frustration bleeding into the kiss.

Furi moaned against him when Syn’s hand slid around the back of his neck.

But Syn broke this kiss off too soon, breathing rough. “I better get going,” he muttered. “The water has a cutoff notice for next week.”

Furi swallowed hard.

“But don’t worry,” he added. “I’ll make sure it’s paid. Promise.”

Furi bit down on his bottom lip debating on voicing the thought he’d had a couple of days ago, before he decided to try. “Maybe one of the guys could loan us something until—”

“No.”

Syn jerked away from him, shaking his head so hard he’d probably given himself a headache.

“And I don’t want you to ask them either,” Syn growled. “I mean it, Furious.”

He nodded. “Okay. Okay. It was just a thought.”

A stupid one. He should’ve known better.

Syn was one of the proudest men he’d ever met, and providing for them mattered to him in a deep, brutal way.

Syn opened the door before glancing one last time over his shoulder. “Don’t wait up.”

He listened to the truck start and back out of the driveway, until the sound faded into traffic.

Silence swallowed their home.

He dropped onto the stool Syn had vacated and stared at nothing.

Damnit.

He felt worse than Syn did, because their financial problems weren’t just bad luck. They were his fault.

He’d allowed Syn to dump a huge chunk of his savings into his shop during the recession. When it didn’t work, Furi doubled down and Syn borrowed against his 401k to buy five classic bikes for him to restore for the Continental Ride Show in Daytona.