Nero (Alliance, #1)

by S.J. Tilly

“I’d rather you didn’t get up.” He doesn’t turn his head when he says it, his tone casual. But there’s no hiding the fact that it’s not a request.

I reach out and touch the leaves—a fake plant. I grit my teeth. Why does her fake plant make me so goddamn angry? Because I’ve lost my fucking mind.

“I need a favor.” Then I think about it. “Two, actually.” He scoffs, “What makes you think I’d give you one fucking favor, let alone two?” “Fuck you,” I tell him without heat. “Come pick me up.”

I haven’t had much need for handshakes in my life, so I’ve never mastered them. In TV and movies, they always make it look so easy. Just take a hand and shake it. But how hard do you hold on? How many shakes do you do? How big is the movement supposed to be?

She’d probably scream. Her previous lovers not as endowed as me. Not as ruthless. Not as cruel.

WHYD THIS MAKE ME LAUGH BYE NERO BFFR

“So much anger for so early in the morning.”

“Did you take a picture?” The second the words are out of my mouth I realize how dumb it sounds. The car crawls to a stop, and out of the corner of my eye I can see King slowly turn his face toward me. “I’m sorry, I must be losing my fucking mind because it sounded like you just asked me if I took her picture.” He waits a beat for me to answer, but I don’t. “What? You figured I’d just casually take out my phone and snap a pic of her fucking face? As if she wouldn’t immediately call the cops on me for that? Are you insane? Seriously, that’s fucking creepy. Even for us.”

“What is up with this girl anyway? She got a magic snatch or something?” “Don’t––” I cut myself off, grinding my teeth. “It’s not like that.” “It’s not like that.” He repeats the words back to me slowly. “Sounds like something some idiot would say, right before we put a bullet in his forehead.”

“It’s her favorite?” “That’s what she said. Took the time to make it herself. Even added some fancy shit on top. But if you don’t want it…” King starts to reach for it, but I snatch it back, shoving the plain coffee into his hand.

“You want to slobber around the rest of the rim first? Since you’ve put your filthy mouth on both of these now.”

I lift the cup to my face and press my nose to the side opposite the writing, where her palm would’ve been, and inhale. Still no roses. Damnit. “Dude.” King sounds exasperated. “Seriously, man, this woman has got you unhinged.”

I tune out King’s words. I don’t have time for his judgment. He doesn’t understand. I need her. Need to consume her.

This guy has to be the original delulu

Just thinking of some dude walking around that’s had his cock anywhere near Payton’s pussy fills me with a boiling, murderous rage.

“You know we’re going there to kill a guy, right?” He snorts, running a hand down the front of his perfectly cut suit. “Giving the man a good view before he dies seems like a kindness.”

“If you must know, mother, I have to go to brunch with Aspen and her husband after this. And I figured there’s a chance I won’t have time to go home between killing a guy and French Toast.”

But The Alliance is real. And the people in our world know to be scared of us. To fear me. To them, the name Nero is synonymous with Hades.

“Who are you?” “Ah, finally the right question.” I lean down, invading his space. “I’m Payton’s wrath. And you’re about to die.”

“So, give me your pants. Unless you’d prefer to stare at my junk, for the next several hours, until we land back in Minneapolis.” I watch King’s fists clench as he strides toward Arthur’s body and administers his own set of kicks. “You stupid bastard.” King unzips his fly, then steps up and kicks the corpse one more time. “Fuck you, man.”

My pocket starts a new vibration pattern and I glance over to see Nero, with his phone pressed to his ear, eyes narrowed on me. Is this man seriously calling me right now, while standing four feet away?

This fucking punk blinks at me, like I might be joking, but I’m not. I’m not going to walk away while this bitch stands here talking to Payton.

God, I want to punch him in the face. Or pull my gun out and pistol whip him. Then he’d be too busy crying to flirt with Payton.

“You know it, babe.” I’m reaching for the Ruger at the small of my back before I even realize what I’m doing. I pause, but I don’t drop my hand, debating how much trouble I’d be in for murdering this tool in broad daylight. Payton wouldn’t like it.

What the fuck is he even thinking talking to a girl like Payton? She’s way too good for him. Completely out of his league.

My nostrils expand as I bring the pastry to my nose and inhale. If I think on it, really hard, I imagine that I can smell Payton’s rose warmth, from where her hand was wrapped around the paper.

I am Nero. Feared by the underworld. Yet here I am, sneaking around outside my girlfriend’s house like a teenage boy breaking curfew. Girlfriend?

“Give me your left hand.” “Why?” The woman rolls her eyes at me. In public. At me. What is happening to my life?

Unknown: Answer me. Unknown: Payton. Unknown: I swear to god, if you smile at him… Unknown: You are not going to his fucking concert. Unknown: End this conversation. Unknown: This is not good for his long-term health.

Because if anyone looks too closely, and sees any part of Payton’s ass, I’ll have to end them.

“If someone even thinks about putting their cock in you, I’ll slice their head off and put their skull on a pike outside your balcony.” I jerk my cock rougher. “So keep that in mind, my pretty little thing.”

I shift in my seat, wishing that I hadn’t put my jacket on the seat, craving the mark of her when she’s not with me. But I suppose if I’d let her leak all over my seat, I’d never let anyone else sit in my car ever again.

Payton tips her head up to me and I nearly stumble. The smile on her face is the most genuine one I’ve ever seen on her.

“Umm, Nero?” I hold the door open and guide Payton though, with a hand on her back. “Yeah?” “How’d you get a key to my building?” My eyes drop to the key I just used. Oh. Right.

The file King got me on Arthur showed most of his friends as deceased. And that piece of shit Bobby, better hope he’s fucking dead already.

There’s some resistance as I push the door open, making my lip curl into a sinister grin. If Payton wants to play in my world, then we’ll fucking play.

“Of-fucking-course you do,” King groans. “But if you ask me to try and detain your girlfriend again, I’m going to have to respectfully decline. Chasing her around made me feel like a fucking monster.”

There’s a beat of silence before Payton breaks it. “Uh, hi.” She lifts her hand in a little wave before catching herself and clutching it to her chest, probably embarrassed that she waved for a phone call. It was cute as fuck.

“Hey.” King waits a beat. “You know Nero’s a prick, right?” Payton snorts out a laugh, and my head whips to the side to look at her. Her hands slap over her mouth, her eyes wide.

I flex my hand on her thigh. I’m not well versed in comforting someone, but I feel her relax every time we’re touching.

I’ve never been concerned with someone else’s hunger before, until now. And now I know I need to feed my girl.

“Do you want a burger or some tacos?” I repeat. “I could eat too, and there’s not much at the house.” “I like any––” She starts but I flex my fingers around hers, making her sigh. “Tacos.”

Nero is gruff with them. His words are clipped and every inch of him is taut with tension. The man, who grinned at me moments ago, completely replaced by this harder, scarier version of himself. Even holding high heels, a bag of cheap fast food, and a beat-up duffel, he looks intimidating.

“That’s nice too, but I was talking about holding hands.” “I’m glad,” Nero says it so seriously that I snicker. He glances at me, as he leads us to another, more hidden stairway behind the kitchen. “What?” “It’s just funny, how you said it.” “How I said I’m glad?” He’s truly confused, and that only makes it funnier. “Yeah, because you sounded like the least glad person ever.”

“We can add some yellow,” I suggest lamely, remembering the touches of sunshine she had in her little apartment. Funny how just a little color can make that small, shitty place feel like more of a home than this mansion I’ve lived in for more than a decade. I’ve never had a problem with this house––until right now.

“Thank you, Nero.” My arm tightens around her. “You never have to thank me, Payton.” She snuggles further into my side. “But I always will.” I let my eyes slide closed. “I’d give everything for you.” Her palm presses over my heart. “But I’ll never ask you to.”

“Will I need to feed them?” “Them?” “The bodyguards,” I clarify. “No. You just ignore them.”

“I love him.” Nero’s face breaks into one of those far-too-cute smiles. “Just like that?” A damp nose nudges against my hand, and I turn my head back to look at Toto. “Just like that.” “You love him as much as you love me?” The dog shoves his way between us, circling around me, his tail in a full wag, his lithe body bending with every swish. I grin. “More.”

Because if I gave her a dog that keeled over dead the next day, she’d probably kill me herself. And if she found out some family was missing him, she’d of course want to do the right thing and return him. Which would break her poor heart and I’d have to punch my own face.

I couldn’t have been further from reality. Because I wasn’t meant for anyone but Payton. This woman who wears her heart on her sleeve. Who worries if the paid guards will be hungry or cold. Who’s shown more emotion in the last twenty-four hours than I’ve shown in the last twenty-four years.

She doesn’t smooth out my rough edges. She fits into them. The soft to my hard. My better half, in every way.

“Maybe, but you can’t just send someone over and tell them to be my friend.” “Sure I can,” the cocky man says. “But what do you need her for anyways? I’m your best friend, remember?” “I remember you not saying it back,”