Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 125248 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 626(@200wpm)___ 501(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125248 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 626(@200wpm)___ 501(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
“Well,” he said, picking up the fresh bottle of beer the waitress put in front of him. “Since I’m already dead, I might as well drill the final nail in my coffin.”
Hart narrowed his eyes. “Styles.”
Furi glanced toward the bar. “I think I need something stronger.”
“No, you don’t,” Hart growled. “Spit it out.”
The command was so powerful, Furi snapped back around.
The words clogged in his throat for a long moment before he admitted. “We’ve been having some financial problems…a lot of problems.”
Nobody spoke.
Damnit, he hated this, but he was in too deep to stop now.
He wondered how much he should tell.
Did he talk about the cutoff notices or the bill collectors calling day and night? Did he tell them about Syn lying awake next to him while calculating whether they could pay his vendors that week at the shop or the car payment, or whether he should sell another bike below value to buy them one more month?
“Um. The shop took a hit about a year and a half ago. A bad one.”
“Damn,” Michaels exhaled. “That sucks.”
“Corbin sacrificed so much trying to help me rebound.”
His voice roughened despite how hard he was fighting it.
“He damn near depleted his savings and borrowed on his 401K to get me through it. But, after the damn Daytona show tanked, I had to lay off ninety percent of my staff.” He laughed, bitter and small. “Now my shop’s just me and a bunch of bikes people can’t afford.”
Furi stared down at the table. He didn’t want to go on but he needed them to understand why he did what he did.
“Then the task force shuts down, and Syn loses his overtime, tactical bonuses, and all that other stuff that kept us in the green. And instead of asking for help or telling anyone, or going to LA, he stayed home to help me.”
Micheals threw his hands up. “Why the hell didn’t he tell anyone?”
Ro scoffed. “Yeah right. There’s no way Syn would ask for help…especially financial help.”
“Exactly.” Furi bit out sharper than he’d meant to. “He wanted to go to Hollywood. I know he did. He pretended he didn’t, but I saw it. Every time one of those pictures came through, he’d— ”
Furi’s eyes burned, and he blinked fast to hide it. “He should’ve been there. Instead he was stuck here doing administrative or custodial shit in the shop and delivering food until late, and its…I know it’s killing him.”
“Dammit,” Ro bit out. “That overly proud motherfucker.”
Hart rubbed a hand over his beard, his expression grim.
“It sounds like all of you,” Furi said. “Bullheaded when it comes to letting somebody else carry the weight.”
“I get it, Furi. I really do. There’s not much we won’t do for our guys.” Hart’s stern glare held his. “But hell. You should’ve talked to him first.”
Furi slammed his fist onto the table loud enough to draw a couple of looks from the guys at the bar. “He would’ve said no.”
He lowered his voice but not the force behind it. “He would’ve said no. He would’ve told me he’d figure it out, then gone back out until two in the morning and come home pretending his back didn’t hurt from driving all night. He would’ve worked himself to death until there was nothing left of him.” Furi’s jaw trembled, and he hated that too. “If I had to swallow my pride to protect him for a change, then so be it.”
Silence settled over the table for too long.
Ro was the first to speak. “What is it you want us to do?”
Furi leaned forward, fingers locked because his hands wouldn’t stay still. “When I tell him, he might react badly.”
Michaels grimaced. “How badly?”
“I don’t know.” Furi’s throat tightened. “Angry. Hurt. Quiet. Corbin’s quiet is far worse than his loud. Maybe he’ll think I didn’t trust him and went behind his back because I didn’t believe he could take care of us. I don’t fuckin’ know.”
Ro opened his mouth, but Furi shook his head and kept going.
“I need you to help him understand how much I love him.” He lowered his voice, knowing it sounded raw and full of anguish. “That there’s nothing I won’t do for him. Nothing. Even if it makes him mad. Even if it makes him hate me for a while. Please convince him that I did it because he’s not the only one willing to sacrifice all of himself for the man he loves.”
Michaels reached across the table and squeezed his hand. “Syn is crazy about you. You guys have been through a lot. You’ll get through this too.”
Hart pointed at him. “But you tell him tonight. You hear me?”
Furi bit his bottom lip as the nerves he’d been fighting all week, roared back to the forefront.
“Not tomorrow,” Hart stressed. “Tonight.”
“I know.”
“No, you don’t know, because you’ve already let it go a week.”