Nero (Made Men #1)(25)
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.