Nutter Nero [Brac Pack 12] (2 page)

“You should get one. There’s nothing wrong with the game. Probably all those cords.” Nero waved his hand toward the cords lying on the floor like a pit of snakes, the two-pronged heads glaring at him.

“Okay, anything else?” Cecil asked as he peered over Nero’s shoulder.

Yeah, from the looks of it, the game was never shut off.
Get a life
outside
somewhere.

Put the controller down and step away from the game.

Geez, people these days didn’t go out and exercise any more. It was all about computers and video games. No wonder the entire population was obese. Well, Cecil wasn’t, but he could be if he kept this up. Nero’s mom preached to him all the time about how electronics were frying everyone’s brains. At twenty-five, Nero had witnessed a lot of it.

“Lose weight,” Nero blurted out.

Cecil tilted his head and stared at Nero. This made him uncomfortable. He didn’t like people concentrating on him like that.

They always had something negative to say to him. That Brad person at the video store with his nasal problems always had something snide to say to Nero. He was just plain mean.

“Dude, what does my weight have to do with the game?” Cecil didn’t ask it negatively. Curiously was more like it, but, still. Nero just shrugged and screwed the console back together.

“Done. Don’t plug anything back in until I bring those power strips. Nothing, absolutely nothing.” Nero sat the game back on the shelf, the urge to straighten all the disarray in the room making his skin itch. The movies were out of order and mixed in with the games.

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He bit his bottom lip, forcing himself to turn away.
It’s not your
house,
he reminded himself.

“He won’t, I assure you.” Ricky spoke to Nero.

“Can I talk to you about lack of security, Ricky?” Nero rolled his tools back up in his pouch, trying his best not to run over to the entertainment stand and cure his ills.

“Maverick, not Ricky.” The man growled.

“Sure, sure. You need to consider cameras, fences, and dogs.

Place is too big to be unprotected, Ricky.” Nero fought not to cringe.

Large men made him extremely nervous. At five feet tall, everyone was taller than him, but the men in this house seemed to have supersized themselves.

“We have plenty of protection. Thank you for your concern.” Ricky smiled in placating politeness at him. Nero sighed, another one who didn’t understand him.

“What about the television?” Cecil asked from behind him.

“Sorry, Cecil. Replace it.” Nero waved over his shoulder as he picked up his pouch.

“Okay.” Cecil scratched his head. “But you didn’t even look at the thing. How could you know what’s wrong with it?”

“I’ll be right back. I have to go to the shop and get the surge protectors. Don’t plug anything in. Fire hazard. Yeah, big fire hazard.” Nero ignored Cecil as he made his way to the door.

Ricky showed him out, thanking him for helping his boyfriend.

There were a half dozen of those strips in his little workshop behind his house. He would grab a few and bring them back, just in case they had the same problems with any other electronics in the house.

Computers were another source of discombobulated cords. People just didn’t take house fires seriously. He was glad Ricky did. The man may be large, but he wasn’t taking chances. Good, very good.

Nero climbed back in his car and placed his tool pouch on the sterile paper that sat on the dry-cleaned seat cover. He had sprayed that cover with germ-killing cleaners. He removed his gloves and
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pulled another pair out, sliding them on before pulling the sandwich baggie out and depositing the germ-covered gloves into them. He sealed it closed, and tossed it into the sanitized trash bag.

Once his ritual was complete, happy that everything was germfree in his car, Nero pulled from the drive and headed home.

Reaching his home, Nero clicked the button on his answering machine. Another call for help, something about a computer tower smoking. Shaking his head, Nero climbed back in his car, heading to the address the answering machine had spit out.

* * * *

Nero tossed his pouch onto his workbench that held a sterilized napkin. Why some people beat on their electronics had always baffled him. It’s not like that solved the problem. It made it worse half the time.

He tossed the germ-covered gloves into the trash and scrubbed his hands with sanitizer as he set about making himself some lunch. After placing the two slices of bread neatly on a napkin, he centered it perfectly before laying two pieces of lunch meat squarely on them.

Once completed, he trimmed the crusts, tossing them out of the kitchen window for the birds. He sat at his desk, nibbling on his sandwich as he straightened the keyboard so it sat perfectly to the monitor.

He noticed the blinking light on the machine from the corner of his eye. Great, another distress call. He wanted to ignore it, but he was unable. Nero leaned over and hit the button, continuing to eat.

“Hey, Nero. It’s Cecil. Forget about me? Can you bring those power strips so I can play? Maverick has blocked the outlet and won’t let me near it until you come back. Please get here.”
Beep.

Nero had totally forgotten about Cecil. Tossing his half eaten sandwich into the trash bin, he pulled another pair of gloves on and scooped up his pouch, heading back to the large house in the woods.

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* * * *

“Why didn’t you come back yesterday?” Cecil asked as he brought the strips in. Nero just shrugged, plugging everything in then clicking the button to turn the strip on. He noticed a new television was already in place. Good, real good. His brows furrowed. “You didn’t get the fan for your game.”

“I had to order it. I can play until then, can’t I?”

“No, no, no, no. It isn’t safe. If it goes out again, it’s fried.” Nero shook his head. This wouldn’t do at all. People needed to stop taking shortcuts, blowing off the obvious problems and ignoring them. Cecil would ruin a perfectly good game console with his carelessness.

“What!” he cried. “That can’t be. Oh, hell, I’m going to go through withdrawal any moment now.”

“You heard him, mate. No gaming until the piece comes in.”

“Oh, hey, Ricky. Did you think about the cameras?” Nero stood, completing his task of putting the spiderweb back together, in a safer manner this time.

“No, but I was wondering if you could look at my computer. It runs extremely slow.”

Nero grabbed his tools, following the tall Ricky to an office.

He adjusted the chair, hiking it up from the floor level it was at so he could see what the issues were. He was only five feet tall, and the chair housed a giant.

Nero began to click away, checking Ricky’s computer for the source of the problem. “You got problems, Ricky. Who’s been surfing porn sites?”

The giant leaned over Nero’s shoulder, making him uncomfortable as he checked the computer. “It was by mistake, over a year and a half ago.” Ricky stood, moving away as if sensing Nero’s unease.

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“Yeah, okay. Well, whoever it was let in some tricky viruses.” Nero picked up the mouse, turning it over. “Is this your grandmother’s mouse? Ancient, very ancient.” Ricky smirked. “What’s a virus?

Nero blinked up at him. “It’s…complicated.”

“What’s wrong with my mouse?” Ricky moved back around his desk, watching as Nero removed the ball from its hiding place within the mouse.

“See those wheels?” he pointed to the wheels inside.

Ricky nodded.

“See the grime attached to them? You should get a laser mouse, or a wireless one. Update your computer, too. It’s ancient, very ancient.” Nero pulled a disc from the left side of his pouch, inserting it into the CD-ROM drive. It was a program he had designed to destroy any unwanted bugs in anyone’s computer—spyware, spam, Trojans, etc.

It would wipe them out clean.

Keeping a nice distance away, Ricky watched as the program began to do its thing. He took a step forward, watching as he asked,

“Is it fixed now?”

“It is, Ricky, but you should consider a new computer. This one is outdated, an early 2000 model. It’s a dinosaur.”

“And what would you recommend?”

“There are a lot of choices. I could go over them with you, see what your specific needs are, and go from there.” Nero packed his pouch up again, waiting on Ricky’s answer as he scratched at his calf.

“If that’s what you recommend.” Ricky pulled out his checkbook from the desk drawer, writing Nero a check for the work he had already completed.

“When do you want to do this?” Nero tucked the check in his back pocket, praying he didn’t forget to take it out before he washed them.

This is why he dealt strictly with PayPal. He would have to set up an account with Ricky for future services. As electronically illiterate as these people were, he knew he would be back.

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“Whenever it’s convenient for you.” The giant showed Nero to the front door.

“Anytime, as long as I’m not on a service call.” Nero looked at Ricky’s extended hand. Was he supposed to shake it? Germs. People carried lots of germs. Ricky seemed nice, so he shouldn’t be offended if Nero didn’t take his hand. Ricky must have gotten the message because he pulled both hands behind his back and smiled at Nero instead. That was close. Nero didn’t have any friends, so he really didn’t want to offend the big guy. Ricky seemed nice, real nice.

“How about tomorrow? Do you want to look online?” Ricky opened the front door for him.

Nero craned his neck back as he stared up at Ricky. “Tomorrow is good. I’ll bring my laptop, though. It would take a gazillion years for yours to even boot up.” Nero chatted away. “Maybe you should consider a notebook or one of the new pads out. They’re really good and mobile, would get you out of your office. Really mobile.” Ricky chuckled, looking as though he didn’t understand a word Nero was saying, and he probably didn’t. He would have to take Ricky through the process step-by-step.

“See you tomorrow, Nero.”

“Uh, okay. Bye, Ricky.” Nero headed toward his car.

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Chapter Two

“Yeah?” Gunnar answered the door. It was six in the morning, for Christ’s sake. Who the hell visited someone that early? He scratched his chest as he yawned, trying to blink the sleep from his eyes.

“I’m here to see Ricky,” the short man said as if Gunnar knew who the hell he was talking about. He had to look way down to even see the shrimp.

“Sorry, there’s no Ricky here.” He began to close the door, wanting to get back to sleep. He had just gotten off of patrol, just dozed off. Why did he have to be the one to hear the door?

“Big guy, almost to the ceiling, long black hair, mean looking.” The short man jabbered away.

“Maverick?”

“Yeah, that’s what Cecil called him.” Okay, so this man was a little nutter. Gunnar could handle that.

“Come on in. I’ll go wake
Ricky
.” Gunnar chuckled. Ricky? That was hilarious.

The little nutter walked past him, and Gunnar damn near swallowed his tongue.

Mine!

“Who are you?” he asked in a complete daze. Gunnar took in his features more closely now. He noticed a pair of blue latex gloves adorning his hands.

“Nero.” His mate walked right into the den as if he had been here before. Gunnar watched Nero. He was stunning, with cropped black hair that spiked out all over the place, and almond shaped eyes. Asian somewhere in him? He was too damn thin in Gunnar’s opinion, and
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19

he was short as hell, too. What was he, five feet? What was it with fate giving the warriors these short statured men? Was it some kind of cosmic joke?

At six five, Gunnar was going to need a chiropractor. Storm’s words of wishing his mate to be four foot tall came rushing to the front of his mind. The swirly-eyed warrior was going to have a field day with this. Gunnar sighed. That’s what he got for making fun of Storm’s mate’s size.

“Why do you need to see…Ricky?” Gunnar chuckled again. That was just too funny—Ricky. Oh, man.

“Computer.”

So the nutter was vague. Well, let’s get started with the twenty question game. “Computer?”

“Ricky has a dinosaur.”

Alrighty then, that sure as shit explained it. “More?” Nero looked at him as if he were daft. “More?” He blinked up at Gunnar.

“Yeah, can I get a full sentence from you? Tell me why Ricky has a dinosaur and why it’s relevant to a computer?” Gunnar watched as Nero walked over to the game console, shaking his head.

“Cecil doesn’t listen. Not good, not good at all.” Gunnar pinched himself. He had to still be sleeping or having some acid trip dream. Funny, he didn’t remember ever doing drugs. It had to be a dream. No way was this scenario real. Besides, wolves were immune to human drugs and diseases, so there had to be another explanation. Maybe George’s new recipe wasn’t sitting well in his stomach, conjuring up vivid, psychotic dreams.

“Ricky wants me to get rid of his dinosaur, so here I am.” Nero blinked up at him as he held his arms out.

Gunnar stood there motionless for a moment, staring into the depth of his mate’s pretty ocean-blue eyes. Gunnar had to fight not to reach out and touch him. The pull was strong, demanding he claim the little nutter. He didn’t want to scare his mate. He looked fidgety
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already. Gunnar had to ignore the urge, focus on why his mate had come here. It wasn’t easy. As a matter of fact, it was the hardest thing he’d ever had to do.

There was only one solution to get around the twenty questions and talk of dinosaurs.
Ricky
was about to be awakened, explanations given, and Gunnar was going to find out who and what his mate was.

“Stay here.”

“Okay.” Nero hitched his messenger bag higher onto his shoulder as he reached down and scratched his leg.