Embracing His Syn (25 page)

Furi was so happy to see Syn’s
handsome face that he’d wanted to hurdle the bar, throw himself in
the man’s muscular arms and beg his forgiveness for being such an
ass. Not only was his abusive husband, Patrick there but he’d
brought his crazy asshole brother too. In the past twenty minutes
Patrick had only said a couple words to him, but Brenden kept
shooting him heated glares as they casually sipped their beers.
Furi didn’t know if they were waiting for him to leave, or what,
but they were acting very strange. He wanted to tell Syn that
Patrick was right there beside him, but he didn’t want to start a
problem in his uncle’s place. He’d simply leave with his fierce
protector and urge Syn to get the restraining order, which would
take care of everything. One thing Patrick wouldn’t do is risk
publicly humiliating himself and his company by getting
arrested.

Furi was double-timing it emptying the
trash with no intention of going back inside. He would simply walk
up the alley and meet Syn at his truck, leaving Patrick and Bren
inside wondering when he was coming back.

“
So, darlin, this is where
you’ve been hiding yourself, huh? All that time I spent searching
for you, and here you were all along. With the trash.” Patrick’s
voice was calm and even; it usually was right before he went
crazy–all over Furi's face. He looked around the alley; full of
dumpsters, empty liquor bottles, discarded food, and shook his head
disgustedly. “Well when I met you, you were slumming it, so
obviously that’s where you’d run back to.” Patrick was talking
about his father’s garage. He may have thought it was a dump, but
many people believed it was a pretty awesome place. Furi rued the
day he let Patrick’s smooth talking charm take him away from
it.

“
I must admit, not
changing your name back to your father’s was fairly smart. Really,
made it hard for the PI to find you. Bren said to
‘
let it go’
you
weren’t '
worth it
.' But I believed that you would come back eventually. Then
out of the blue, surprise, I’m served. AT MY FUCKING BUSINESS! With
DIVORCE PAPERS! So goddamn disrespectful.” Furi flinched at his
husband’s quick rage.

“
I knew you never were too
bright, darlin, but come on. You had to know I wouldn’t just let
you go after all the money I spent on you.”

“
I left everything and you
fucking know it!” Furi yelled. “I couldn't care less about fancy
clothes and expensive jewelry. It’s all worthless now, isn’t it?
Tell me something, Pat. Is your Rolex keeping you warm at
night?”

Furi jumped back when
Brenden moved closer, but Patrick put his arm out to stop his
brother from advancing
for
now
.

“
Patrick, just leave.
We’re not good together; if you just think about it for a second, I
mean really think about it, you’ll realize that you don’t want me.
You just wanna save face. But that’s not what marriage is about.”
Furi needed to keep him talking, he was trapped and he knew it. He
could feel the sweat dripping down his back. The dumpsters were at
the end of the alley, about twenty feet from the back door of the
pub. Patrick and Bren had closed in on him, there was no escape.
All he could hope for right now was that Syn would get tired of
waiting and come looking for him before his husband and
brother-in-law could do too much damage.

“
What are you talking
about? I love you and you love me too.” Patrick leered. “If you
really think about, you’ll realize that I’m right.” He mocked
Furi.

Bren was standing right beside his
brother, ready to do what he’d wanted to do since Furi married
Patrick. He wanted to beat him beyond recognition. Furi tore his
livid eyes away from Brenden, turning a sorrowful gaze on his
husband. His once sweet, sensitive, and charming husband. “Patrick
please, just go home, back to your comfortable life, without an
un-wanted husband in it, complicating things. When we got married I
believe you really did love me but you changed in every way.” Furi
squeezed his eyes shut against the flashes of memory that rushed to
the forefront of his mind. He’d tried desperately to put those
demons to rest. “You started to beat me after we made love. Who the
fuck does that? It was like some switch flipped in you and you
couldn’t deal with being gay anymore.”

Patrick shook his head disbelievingly.
“That’s ignorant but I’d expect nothing less from your mouth. I
don’t have time for this conversation and this garbage smells.
Let’s go, now, Furious. I’m not going to repeat myself.”

Fuck.
“NO! I’m going to move on with my life. I’m going to open my
own garage and just live a peaceful life that doesn’t involve
frequent trips to the emergency room. You don’t want me, Pat. You
want a househusband. I’m not that kind of man. You had me believing
that you’d be supportive of my dreams, but you knew you’d never be
happily married to a mechanic.”

“
How can you fix cars with
two broken arms?” Brenden sneered.

Furi gulped hard but did his best to
put on a brave face. He refused to give that shitdick the
satisfaction of appearing scared. “Is this why you want me to come
back? To be a fucking punching bag for you and your brother?” Furi
yelled. His voice had gone deeper with anger and fear.

“
You are coming back
whether you want to or not. Now, we can do this the easy way, where
you come get in the car, or you can wake up in my bed later, after
being knocked unconscious. Either way works for me.”

“
I’m not coming back,”
Furi growled. “I’m divorcing you, end of fuckin’
discussion.”

Furi should’ve been prepared for
Brenden’s hard punch to his diaphragm; but it knocked the wind out
of him and had him falling on his ass to the filthy concrete alley.
Furi got to one knee and gritted his teeth, staring up at his
husband. “Do what you want you bastard. I’m not coming back. I’d
rather die right here.” Brenden came at him again. This time Furi
was able to block the serious damage, but his brother-in-law’s kick
to his chest sent him flying to the ground again. Furi rolled to
his stomach, clenching his teeth at the pain, refusing to cry out.
He could hear Brenden’s footsteps coming closer. Furi reached out
and picked up an empty wine bottle and spun around, bringing the
bottle down as hard as he could, shattering it against Brenden’s
bad knee. The scream that erupted from him made Furi feel slightly
victorious. He knew the man had two ACL injuries from football, he
hoped he’d stopped him long enough to get around him, but he was
wrong.

“
You little shit,” Brenden
yelled, doubled over from the pain in his knee.

Patrick reached out, grabbing Furi
around the neck, scowling in his face. “You had to do it the hard
way. I’m going to make sure that you’re never able to run away
again.”

Furi brought his knee up
but ended up hitting Patrick in the thigh, completely missing his
nuts.
Fuck.
Furi
was ready to accept the inevitable when he heard the back door to
the bar slam open and saw a dark figure barreling toward them,
knocking Patrick to the ground with a hard blow to his ribs. Furi
looked up into Syn’s scowling face, his black irises shimmering
with anger.
Holy shit.
Syn reached out and pulled Furi to him. He did a quick
perusal of his body before tucking him behind him like he always
did. Brenden was the first to move in and Syn pushed Furi back,
readying himself for the attack.

Syn had walked back into the pub and
saw Furi wasn’t behind the bar. What really caught his attention
was the two brick shit-houses in suits that were sitting there
before were also missing. Syn’s sixth sense, the one that had
always kept him two steps ahead, was propelling him forward,
telling him to move faster. Syn ignored the curious glance from
Furi’s uncle behind the bar, as he rushed toward the back door,
pulling out his two-way radio as he ran. He heard the chirp and
spoke into the receiver, “God, step on it. I think I got a
problem.”

“
On it,” God answered back
in a serious tone.

Syn burst through the door
at full speed and quickly took in the scene at the end of the
alley. One of the men had his thick hands around Furi’s neck,
choking the life out of him, yelling in his face about ‘never
leaving him again.’
Shit, Furi’s
husband.
The other guy was leaning up
against the brick wall holding one of his knees, looking pale and
sick from pain. Syn figured he’d worry about him later. He hurled
his fist into the ribcage of the man holding Furi, and he went down
from the momentum of the blow but Syn knew he only had a few
seconds before Ex-husband recovered and was back up again. But his
first priority was Furi. For the most part he looked alright, there
was no blood or bruising so Syn placed himself in front of his man
and trained his eyes back on the two men who were staring at him in
shock and rage.

“
There must be a
misunderstanding. This is no business of yours.”

“
And you are?” Syn gritted
through clenched teeth, already knowing the answer to that
question, trying to stall a few minutes to get his anger under
control.

“
No one of consequence to
you. But you’re standing between me and my husband, so I’m going to
give you one chance to leave.”

Syn shook his head slowly. “You got
that wrong. I’m standing between you and your ex-husband.” In that
moment Syn saw the man’s eye’s go from an intriguing light gray to
a haunting ashen gray like the sky before a thunderstorm. He was
angry and Syn knew things were about to take a turn for the
fucked.

“
Furious is my husband.
Like it or not. He belongs to me.”

“
Belongs
to you? So you can abuse him whenever you like
and then let your pussy brother step in when you get tired?” Syn
stepped closer. “I don’t fucking think so.”

The Ex tried to look around Syn,
speaking to Furi. “Honey, come back home. I’ve changed. I will
never hurt you again: I swear on my life.”

“
Bullshit. He doesn’t
believe you and I damn-sure don’t believe you,” Syn
argued.

“
I don’t have to convince
you of anything.”

“
The hell you don’t. I’m
the main one you have to convince.”

The Ex put his hands out as if
gesturing at his surroundings. “I came all the way here to get him.
That’s enough. I’m here aren’t I?”

“
So are the dumpsters,”
Syn answered with a bored expression.

“
You calling me trash,” Ex
growled.

“
No. Trash would be too
nice a word. Do you really want to know what I would call you?” Syn
smirked, his smile morphing quickly to a snarl before he spoke
again, “Furi belongs to me now. If you want him you’re going to
have to go through me to get him.”

Syn felt Furi pulling at his arm.
Without taking his eyes off the Ex, he turned just slightly to hear
what Furi had to say.

“
This is not your fight
it’s mine,” Furi hissed in his ear.

Syn fought the urge to
roll his eyes.
Yeah, you were really
kicking ass when I got here.
Syn looked up
the alley seeing God and Day turn the corner and walk toward them,
looking like two renegade bikers. God in his black, mid-thigh
length leather coat, black clothes, his long hair flowing down his
back, and black Timberland boots that you did not want to be on the
receiving end of a kick from. Day in is tight leather jacket, black
cargo pants, and Jordans. They looked like thugs, not
cops.

Syn pulled Furi to his
chest. “Furi, I want you to go back through the bar and go wait at
my place. I’m going to have a little chat with your
ex
-husband,” Syn said
extra loudly.

Furi huffed in annoyance, “Syn, I took
six months of self-defense courses at the YMCA this year. I can
fight for myself.”

Syn looked at Furi like he’d lost his
damn mind. “At the Y? Well hell, that’s great Furious. If you ever
get jumped by the Village People, feel free to pull out those
moves. As for now, I want you to take your
karate-kicking-YMCA-going-ass back to my apartment,” Syn snarled at
Furi, urging him toward the door, having neither the time nor the
patience to argue with his ridiculous pride. Thankfully, with one
final glare Furi went back into the pub. When Syn turned back, God
and Day were looking back and forth between him and his two
foes.