Embracing His Syn (Nothing Special 2)

“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.”