Page 70 of Nothing Special X: The Last Stand

Furi recoiled so hard, he felt the beers threaten to come up.

No, he hadn’t read the comments. He’d refused to. Told himself he didn’t care, that the only part of this that mattered was the money and what it could fix. He’d ignored the noise, the subscribers, the posts, the tags, all of it.

He’d been a fool for thinking not looking at them meant it wouldn’t affect them.

He crossed the kitchen, reached past Syn, and snapped the laptop closed.

“I didn’t read them,” he said softly. “Because I don’t care what anyone is saying.”

Syn slammed his fist down on the counter so hard the salt and pepper shakers jumped.

“I care!”

Furi yelped, not from fear of Syn hurting him, never that, but from the rage and devastation in his voice.

It was the first fracture in Syn’s control, the first flash of the wound beneath the locked-down composure.

He’d done this. So he’d take it.

Furi gulped around the sorrow lodged in his throat. “I know. I know you do. But please understand why I did this.”

Syn narrowed his eyes. “Understand why you lied to me?”

The words landed clean.

Furi inhaled a shaky breath. “You know why I did it.”

“No,” Syn said. “I know what you did. Don’t confuse the two.”

“I’m your partner, Corbin.” Furi gritted. “You don’t have to take care of us on your own.”

Syn nodded slowly, the movement making Furi’s skin prickle.

“Right.” Syn’s mouth twisted into something far from a smile. “So how much did you get paid to lie to me?”

Furi drug his hand over his mouth, his jaw, his beard, anything to buy him a few seconds before the truth ruined him. “I didn’t tell you because I knew you’d say no.”

Syn’s eyes flashed. “I didn’t ask you that.”

“Corbin, please.”

“How much!” he roared.

“It’s not about the money.”

Syn came off the stool so fast it tipped over. He grabbed the laptop with one hand and hurled it across the kitchen.

It hit the far wall with a violent crack. Shattered plastic and metal exploded before it fell to the floor in pieces.

Furi stilled, shoulders aching from tension, head throbbing.

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.