Hagen, Lynn - Nutter NeroBy: Lynn Hagen
Brac Pack 12
“What the hell!” Cecil threw the controller down and then stomped over to the television. Looking behind it, he checked the game console, too. He hadn’t a clue what he was looking at.
“What happened?” Mark asked Cecil as he stormed by.
“No clue, but I need it fixed pronto.” Cecil ran down the hallway, slammed open his mate’s office door, and ran to the desk. The Alpha, Maverick, stood immediately to his six-nine height, his canines punching through and his eyes turning crimson.
“We got a problem,” Cecil panted out. “A huge problem.” The other warriors who had been sitting in the office attending a meeting with the Alpha all stood, their defenses going up, all waiting to hear what was going on that brought the Alpha’s mate running in such a manner. Hawk, the commander of the Sentry wolves, ran from the room, immediately going to assess the danger to the mates.
“Dude, the television and game console died.” Cecil grabbed the front of his mate’s shirt, twisting his hands in the fabric. “We gotta do something, now.”
The warriors groaned, sitting back down. They should have known. Cecil was as unpredictable as a squirrel. “Calm down, baby.
We’ll get it fixed.” Maverick chuckled as he pulled Cecil’s hands away, bringing his mate down onto his lap. “I’ll buy a new one.”
“No, I have all my games saved on that one. Can’t we get, like…get a geek to come and take a look at it? There was this tech that came to the video store I used to work at, fixed any game that came in for repairs. Can I call him?”
“You can call him, but I would rather he not come here.” The shifters guarded their secret closely. The only humans who knew were their mates and the owner of the diner.
“You want me to take it into town by myself? What about the television?” Cecil pleaded with his eyes. No gaming equaled a slow death. This couldn’t be happening. He was already bored half the time. If he couldn’t occupy his mind with his video games, he’d go nuts.
“As long as he’s quick about it, call him and have him come see what the problem is.” Feeling somewhat relieved, Cecil used the phone on the desk, calling his old job and chatting away with his former coworker, Chad.
“He’ll be here in less than an hour. Thank you.” Cecil hung up the phone and then straddled Maverick’s hips, grinding his cock into him.
God, even after all this time, he still loved the hell out of his wolf.
“Baby, my men are sitting right here.” Maverick kissed his way down Cecil’s neck.
“We’ll be back in…twenty minutes?” Gunnar ushered the rest of the warriors out, closing the door behind him.
* * * *
Nero checked his printout again. This was the place. He frowned as he got out of his car. This wasn’t right. He should have had to be buzzed in through a gate, asked to state his purpose here, and have guard dogs barking and growling to get at him.
No surveillance cameras were watching his every move. At least he didn’t see any. A place like this should be extremely hard to get into. Why wasn’t it? No guard dogs were barking, not even a whine, and that didn’t seem right to him.
Nero turned his car off, looking around as he stepped out. He glanced back down at his printout then back up at the house.
Shrugging, he made his way to the door, hearing the sound of gravel crunching under his shoes. Instead of knocking, he kicked it with his shoe. No sense in getting germs on his hands. No telling who had touched this door. He waited for someone to answer as he looked around. Anyone could get into this place. This wouldn’t do. No, it wouldn’t do at all.
Nero blinked up. Oh, he remembered this guy. What was his name again? Cycle, Caesar, Season? Never mind. It didn’t matter. “You have problems?”
“Dude, follow me.”
Nero followed—whatever his name was—into a gamers’ paradise.
Oh, yes, he could see the problem right away. “Too…too many cords.
It’s a spiderweb back there. Not good, no, not good at all.” Nero pulled out a pair of blue latex gloves from his front pocket and snapped them on before bending behind the entertainment stand, yanking cords out of a macramé of three-way extension cords. “Fire hazard. Big fire hazard.”
“Hey, what are you doing?” Whatever his name was whined as Nero pulled the last plug out.
“You need a surge protector. It’s shocking you haven’t had a house fire.” Nero stood up and looked down at the slew of cords lying on the floor, pleased that he had saved a house from burning down.
Nero turned at the deep timbre voice asking the question, as he nodded. “Yeah, house fire. I’ll have to bring in some surge protectors.
They’ll accommodate all these plugs without the chances of a fire.
Not good, no, not good.”
“Maverick, he unplugged me.”
“Cecil, if he says it’s not good, then they stay unplugged until he fixes it. Do you want our home to burn to the ground?” Cecil. That’s right. Now he remembered. Nero pulled the console from the shelf, getting his kit out. He unrolled the cloth on the billiard table.