Furi’s voice was a seriously sexual growl, “Be here at midnight.”
Syn watched Furi disappear into the darkness of the pub. He stared at the door for a few seconds, gathering himself before he pried his back off the wall. Syn’s cock was so hard he walked with a limp back to his truck. He was going to be late getting back to the precinct, but whatever, he was feeling damn good.
The drive to the station was long enough for Syn to decide that he was going to be back to pick up Furi by midnight: sharp. He’d take Furi home and walk him to his door. That’s what people did when they were dating, right? Syn shook his head. Whatever it was called nowadays, Syn was going to give it his best shot. God and Day were so in love, it radiated from them. Ro and Johnson were in love. The hot IT guy’s boyfriend came and had lunch with him every day if they were in the precinct. He was part of a team where it was alright to be gay and out, and badass too. All Syn wanted was the respect that he deserved ... no that he’d earned. Now he wanted the last piece of himself to snap into place to make him whole.
“What you got, Ro?” Syn plopped down in his chair and flicked his wrist looking at his watch for the fifth time in thirty minutes. It was only five minutes to ten; midnight couldn’t come fast enough to suit him.
“Got a hot date tonight, Sarge?” Ro chuckled as he handed Syn the next group of Illustra’s entertainers that were being picked up for questioning.
Syn flushed but chose to ignore Ro’s smug grin. “Shut up,” he mumbled, and flipped open the next file. He flinched so hard his neck popped. Syn’s breath caught at the image that stared back at him.
“Oh yeah. This is the one I wanted to mention, he might be a prime suspect.”
Syn threw his hand up, stopping Ro. This couldn’t be happening. “I thought we’d concluded that the killers were women from that crazy-ass men-bashing group, BTNS?”
“Yes, we did. But hear me out; there may be more players in this. Starman was definitely taken out by women but he could’ve been set up by others. This guy's name is Furious Gray Barkley. During questioning, the owner of Illustra, Johnathan Mack said that Furious Barkley, who performs as Furious Styles, was scheduled to do a movie with Sasha Pain but declined. Furious’ replacement was our vic.” Ro rubbed his smooth face and kept talking, oblivious to Syn’s inner turmoil. “Kicker is, although this Furious Gray Barkley has no priors, he’s also known as Furious Gray Nicks. Husband to Patrick Nicks. That image there is a photo that was given to the Charlotte Mecklenburg Police Department when Furious’ husband filed a missing persons on him almost a year ago. Furious is on the run and I want to know why. I contacted the husband but had to leave a message. I already sent Jameson to pick him up. He works at a pub in ... hmmm.” Ro’s eyebrows rose. “In your neighborhood.”
“Yeah I see,” Syn said quietly. Ro’s phone rang and he picked it up, giving Syn a couple of private minutes, which were needed because his heart was beating a mile a minute. The fates can’t be that cruel. To make the only man, no forget that; the only person that Syn had been interested in in over ten years a suspect in a murder case he was overseeing. On top of everything else, the man is married. This isn’t good. Ro disconnected his call and Syn asked him, “How soon before this one arrives?”
“He’s already here in room five. You coming?” Ro asked, taking Furious’ file from his hands.
“I’ll watch.” Syn walked beside Ro to the interrogation rooms. Then he thought better of it, and decided he needed to be honest with his men. They worked effectively together, but most of all they had each other's backs. Ro was a good man and Syn felt he could trust him. “Ro wait.”
“What’s up?”
Syn blew out a breath and scratched at the hair on top of his head, which was grown out enough that it was already starting to curl.
“Syn what’s going on?” Ro looked genuinely concerned, his vibrant blue eyes staring intently at him.
Syn looked back and forth as uniforms brushed passed them in the hall. Ro clasped a firm grip on Syn’s shoulder and ushered him into one of the vacant offices. “Talk to me man. You’re my Sarge but I consider you a friend first. That’s the way we operate. If you have a problem, then I have a fuckin’ problem, and so do twenty-one other men. But between you and me right now, what’s up?”