Nero (Made Men #1)

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Nero (Made Men #1) Page 8

by Sarah Brianne


  She jumped on her bed, deciding to rest a second before she had to get ready for work.

  She picked up her phone, staring at it, deciding to call Chloe. After a few rings, Chloe answered. “Hey,” she quietly said.

  “Did you tell your dad?”

  “No. No point. I told Lana and she said her husband will take care of it for me.”

  Lana was her housekeeper and had been for years. She was practically Chloe’s only parent. Chloe could tell her things she needed and Lana would help her out.

  “That’s good.”

  “Lana will be driving me till I get my car back, so…” Chloe didn’t want to say it.

  “That’s okay. Nero said he would give me a ride tomorrow morning, and I always have the bus.”

  “Oh, really? Tell me how the car ride home was.” Chloe’s voice hinted at a smile.

  “Fine.”

  “Just fine?”

  “Yep. Fine, Chloe.”

  “He kissed you, didn’t he?”

  Silence met her answer.

  “Oh, he totally did! Tell me, how was your first kiss?”

  “Well, it technically wasn’t my first.”

  “Oh, my gosh, what?”

  “He kissed me earlier, in Art, in the supply closet.”

  “That is so freaking sweet.”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Listen, Chloe, if you get to school before me, I can’t help you.”

  “I know. I can figure out something, I guess. I’ll be there at the exact time we always are.” Elle hated that Chloe had returned to her usual non-happy voice, but she’d had to tell her.

  “All right. I’ll try to be there at the same time, but we know Nero is late practically every morning.”

  “I know.”

  Elle felt terrible. She was going to have to figure something out.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

  “Bye.”

  Elle hung up the phone. She couldn’t say bye.

  Her wheels started turning in her head about how she could solve this problem. She decided to think while she got dressed for work.

  While she was thinking, something Nero had said earlier crossed her mind. ‘Do you realize how unsafe that is for a seventeen-year-old girl?’ She wondered how in the hell he knew she was seventeen. Actually, most of the seniors were already eighteen, besides her and Chloe. So, how would he know?

  * * *

  Nero started to feel confined at home, especially in his room. The job his father had given him had started to wear on his mind. This was his first job, the job that was going to adopt him into the family. Yes, his blood might biologically be a part of the family, but his blood didn’t bleed with the family. At least, not until the job is done.

  He had always been aware, ever since he had been young, he was going to follow in his father and brother’s footsteps. He was going to bleed and die beside the family. No matter what it takes.

  He wondered why Elle had been the one behind the garbage can that night. Any other girl would have been easier for him to crack—hell, the job would have already been done if she was like all the other girls he had been with. But not Elle. He couldn’t even get her fucking mouth to open to stick his tongue down her throat, let alone tell her secrets. She had sat in his car and even protected a piece of shit like Sebastian, therefore getting her to tell him what had happened wouldn’t be easy.

  The thought of Sebastian pissed him off. He couldn’t get the image out of his head of him lunging for Elle. She just sat there and closed her eyes.

  He’d had to get Sebastian, to get his hands on him. As a result, he and his crew had made sure to get him alone. They worked out a plan to offer him some weed once they dropped the girls in Spanish class. They gave Sebastian a total bullshit peace offering to say he was sorry, that the heat of the moment had gotten to him. The heat of the moment had gotten to him all right.

  He punched the shit out of him behind the school. Little bitch took one punch and was cold turkey. That didn’t stop Nero and his crew. They each landed a kick on his helpless body.

  Nero smiled. Elle hadn’t seen the nice bruises he was sure Sebastian had under his clothes.

  Again, with the thought of Elle, he grew hard. His body was out of whack. Typically, some girl would be in his bed to remedy his situation, but after his father banned him from girls other than Elle, he couldn’t risk it. Kissing her had definitely set him off. The little nothing of a kiss in the closet had even set him off.

  Usually, that would have been a joke of a kiss, but something about it had made him want more. Subsequently, when he had arrived at her house, he had kissed her again, harder. She hadn’t even kissed him back, which made it that much worse. No girl had ever not kissed him back. He knew he was a good kisser—well, he used to be really sure of it.

  When she had pushed him, it had been everything he could do not to set her ass in his backseat and do as he pleased, certain he could get her to comply.

  He grinned at what she’d called him earlier, ‘the big bad wolf.’ Elle was right; he was the big bad wolf. He knew it worked perfectly to describe him because, every time he looked at Elle, he saw a cute, helpless animal.

  He liked Elle’s size; she was a good match for him. She wasn’t tall but wasn’t short. Her ass and boobs were the same in proportion, both a little bit more than a handful, and he liked that. But her hair and eyes were his favorite things about her.

  Her darker-blonde hair had a hint of pink in it, and it had a nice wave to it throughout without being curly. Her eyes were huge and blue like the ocean. That was why she was this cute animal to him, because every time he looked into her big blue eyes, the big bad wolf wanted a taste. More than a taste.

  When it dawned on Nero that he was on the verge of going insane, he made a phone call.

  He spoke the second he heard grease flying. “Is Elle working?”

  “Elle isn’t here right now. She clocks in about an hour from now. Want me to leave a message?”

  He knew what was going to come next. “No, I said Mel.” He couldn’t risk the guy who’d answered the phone telling her about someone calling for her.

  “No Mel that I know of that works here.”

  “Sorry, wrong number.” He clicked the phone off and got up out of bed, grabbing his keys off the nightstand. A job needed to be done.

  Chapter Twelve

  Death Wish

  Nero parked his car a little way back from the house. He turned off his engine, cutting the lights, complete darkness surrounding him. He only had to wait about five minutes until the front door opened and his target emerged. Right on time.

  As she was walking down the sidewalk, he noticed what she was wearing. Her dark-grey coat covered a dark-orange dress. He had never seen her in a dress before. He noticed her long, lean legs and wondered why she only ever wore jeans. He knew the dress was a uniform, but it was totally working for him. He made a note to himself to see her in it up-close sometime before the job was done.

  When she turned the corner, putting his car at her back, he turned the car on. He waited until she was almost out of eyesight before he put the car in drive, staying far enough behind until she made it to the bus stop. He then put his car back in park while she sat on the bench.

  When an older guy came and sat on the bench beside her, something grew in his stomach. Nero watched the two talk, not understanding why she was being so friendly to a complete stranger. He knew they didn’t know each other by the way she shook his hand and introduced herself.

  Nero watched the man very closely until the bus rolled up and they entered. On the drive downtown, he stayed on the bus’s bumper the entire time. He could see through the bus at stop lights. The guy had sat directly behind Elle. Nero didn’t like it one bit. There are fucking twenty other seats.

  Each second he saw her on the bus, the more he felt like pulling it over and throwing her in his car. He was a guy and knew exactly what the older man behind her was thinking—hell, he wanted to pull the bus
over just to kill the guy.

  When the next stop came, he saw Elle get up and turn around to say bye to the man. What the fuck! She is asking to get killed.

  Nero wondered where Elle thought she lived. The city is run by the fucking mafia. He knew not only that, but she had seen someone murdered on these streets just days ago. She has no idea that the big boss of the Caruso family was the one who did it, either.

  That was when Nero knew Elle had a death wish. She threw herself in front of Chloe every time at school; she worked in a diner at night downtown, and she rode the bus to get there.

  When she got off the bus and the doors closed with the guy still inside, he started to ease himself back into sanity. He stayed behind her the few blocks she had to walk to get to the diner. When she made it inside, he parked his car again. Nero ran his hands through his hair and closed his eyes. He was gaining a headache after watching Elle be careless for her safety.

  He observed her for a bit through the big diner windows, pouring coffee and taking orders. The diner was full with mostly men, most of them having come from the Casino hotel. He knew because he had watched them walk from one door down to the diner. After quite a bit of time had passed, he grew sick of watching the men’s faces as she came to the table. I can’t watch this anymore.

  Nero turned off his car and got out, locking the doors. If he watched Elle another second, he was going to walk in there and watch her pour him coffee for the rest of the night. Instead of walking in the diner like he wanted to, he went to the Casino’s hotel doors. He needed to be put out of his misery and get this job over with.

  When he opened the doors and walked inside, the smell of smoke enveloped him and the different tones of slot machines greeted his ears. For some reason, Nero loved the smell and the loud noises. He saw peace in it. It was his second home.

  He walked through the casino, going up the escalators where he turned around, looking at the view. The people laughing and having a good time, the different lights, and the cast of smoke that filled the air made him smile. He could see his future as the escalators brought him higher, and that made Nero exceptionally happy.

  He walked off the escalators, bringing him to a security check for the hotel rooms. The guard waved him forward, letting Nero pass the people waiting to show them their room keys.

  Getting on the elevator, he hit the top floor, holding down a series of buttons until it flashed. It made it possible for Nero to ride the elevator without a stop for people to come on. He was glad for that feature; otherwise, it would take all night to reach the top floor.

  After the smooth ride of the elevator, Nero watched the door open. He walked down the long hallway, playing out what to say in his mind. When he came to the guarded door, he stopped.

  “He wasn’t expecting you tonight.”

  “I wasn’t expecting to come down here.”

  “All right. One second.” Nero watched the guy whisper into his earpiece for a brief moment.

  “He said you can go in.” The big guy opened the door and moved out of the way.

  “I’d hope so,” Nero replied as he walked through the door.

  When the door was slammed shut, Nero looked around the big, dark yet bright room. Hardly any lights were on, but all the TV screens in there filled it with light. The people looking at the screens didn’t once turn their heads to see who had entered.

  Nero walked to the other side of the room, coming to a chair beside another door. He took a seat, knowing from experience it could take a while.

  Nero pulled out his cell. He had a few texts, but not the one he wanted. He scrolled through his contacts, stopping at Elle’s name. He hit the text button, bringing him to a new conversation, typing the words, You at work yet?

  Four minutes passed and he got a reply that made him grin. Maybe.

  Nero pulled up the keyboard, this time typing, Schedule?

  * * *

  Elle looked at her phone under the bar, and read the text message she had just received before putting it back in her apron. She walked through the swinging doors, bringing her to the kitchen. She went to the wall holding the OSHA binder and a long piece of paper. She stared at the words that titled the top. “Biweekly work schedule.” Her eyes traveled down the paper, looking at the two-week sentence.

  ‘Let’s make it a picture of your schedule.’ She didn’t know if giving him her schedule was a good idea. If she did, well, then she couldn’t lie to him, using work as an excuse to get out of doing something with him.

  Elle stared at the paper a little longer, coming to a conclusion and a solution.

  She pulled her phone out of her apron and snapped a picture of her schedule. Going to her recent texts, she knew exactly what to say.

  * * *

  Nero felt his phone vibrate in his hand. Turning it over, he read the words, How about a trade?

  Nero was intrigued. What do you want?

  A minute later he read, If you want the schedule, then we will need to be at school early before Chloe gets there.

  Nero liked that Elle cared for her friend so much. It showed him she was loyal. However, her loyalty didn’t change the fact he didn’t like that idea. Nero had never been a morning person. He was already going to have to get up early as it was to pick Elle up for school. No way was he waking up that early. He decided to counter.

  * * *

  Elle felt her phone vibrate in her apron while she poured coffee to one of her tables. She was going to make good tip money tonight; the diner had been full practically the whole night. She went to the counter and pulled out her phone, not understanding why everything had to be so difficult when it concerned Nero as she read his message. I’ll tell Amo to be there early. He can watch her.

  Elle didn’t know why this was a discussion. She was the one with the schedule. No schedule then. She hit the word send.

  Elle had refilled the coffee cups to the brim when her next message came back. Then no one there to look after Chloe.

  Elle cursed his name. She should have thought about him using Chloe’s safety against her.

  Elle decided to text Chloe first. Amo will be at school before you get there. Stay with him till I get there, okay?

  Elle took an order from one of her usual customers. She always liked when he came by. He would tell her funny jokes and make sure she was tipped well.

  When she put his order in, she read her message from Chloe. Please, no, Elle. I’ll be fine.

  Elle thought realistically for a second. No, she wasn’t going to be fine.

  She sent Chloe another message. Cassandra could be back tomorrow. Amo will meet you at your parking spot, all right? You know it’s the best thing.

  After Elle dropped an order at a table, she went to the back again, laughing at Chloe’s reply. UGHH FINE!!

  Elle decided to go back to the kitchen and take another picture of the schedule. She would let Nero win the battle, again. But from now on, she decided things were going to change. She was going to win the damn war.

  * * *

  Nero thought he was going to doze off in the oversized leather chair before Elle texted back. He knew he had her when he had texted her that no one would be there to watch Chloe; thus, he didn’t understand why it would take so long to reply. She already lost.

  When his phone finally vibrated, he looked at her reply. So, Amo will be there?

  Nero knew he had won again. Yeah, bright and early. You have my word.

  A minute later, he read her reply. Tell him to meet Chloe at her parking spot then.

  A moment later, the text was followed by a picture message. He clicked it open to enlarge the image. The picture ended up turning out to be better than he had thought; he could use this to his advantage.

  When he went through the one-week schedule, Elle’s name definitely stood out. Dammit, she works every fucking night practically.

  Nero thought about what he had gone through that evening. He figured if he didn’t get this job done, he was going to turn himself gray at
an early age.

  When the door opened at last and a familiar face walked out, Nero heard him say, “He’s ready for you now.”

  Nero decided to hit send on the message he had made before the door had opened. Deal.

  As he rose from the chair, Nero responded, “Thanks, Sal.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  How to Willingly Love a Caruso in a Month

  The boss heard Sal say, “He’s been out there waiting for a while now, boss.” The meeting had just come pretty much to a close.

  “He can wait. Why do you think he’s here, boys?”

  “I saw her. She ain’t the usual. She’s the kind you marry then fuck.” He stared at his son, standing in the corner as he put a cigarette to his lips and lit the end with his metal lighter.

  The lighter had actually been a gift from the boss the day his son had become the underboss. He thought that every man shouldn’t have just any ninety-nine cent lighter you could pick up at a gas station as you checked out. No, this lighter had been handed down over generations. He had used that very lighter for years. The only thing was, he wished his son lit cigars, not cigarettes. There’s a lot I wish he did differently.

  “So, you’ve been following her?”

  “Not exactly,” his son said as he exhaled and smoke filled the room.

  The smell made the boss want to reach for one of his cigars, but he didn’t like to mix that shit with his good stuff. “So, what exactly were you doing?”

  “I watched her for a bit.” He took another hit off his cigarette.

  “What for?” He knew why, but he wanted his answer.

  “I had to make sure things were going in the right direction.”

  “Are they?”

  “How about we ask him?” He nodded his head toward the door.

  His son was right; not only was he a little suspicious on whether Nero could get the job done, but his own brother was, too.

  “Sal, bring him in.”

  He watched Sal open the door and head off to take care of some things. Nero came in and shut the door behind him. Unlike his older brother, he took a seat in one of the chairs.

 

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