NERO
I exhale heavily.
If you were spying on me, it might appear from my fidgeting, pacing, and frequent glances at myself in the mirror that I was nervous. Me.
But it’s not nerves that have me pacing, clenching my hands and grinding my teeth.
It’s excitement.
Because tonight, I’m making it real. When I meet Milena for dinner in about forty minutes at Oolong, midtown’s newest two Michelin star restaurant, I’m breaking down the last wall between us.
Tonight, the truth comes out, all of it.
There’s no stopping the grin that spreads over my face as I catch my eye in the mirror.
Hey.
It’s ‘Me’.
And I know who you are, Milena.
I exhale again, fixing my tie before I walk over to the painting hanging on the opposite side of my room, above the couch. It swings out on hidden hinges, and I thumb open the biometric lock to the safe behind it. I slide aside my passport, a few rolls of hundreds and a .45 magazine, then pull out the little black velvet jewelry box.
No, it’s not a fucking ring. Jesus.
Not yet, anyway.
But I know she’s going to love it.
I grin as I pop the box open, the light glinting off the diamond inside.
Perfect.
I shut the box and slip it into my jacket pocket. Then I smile as I reach back into the safe and pull out my most prized possession.
Someday, maybe, the New York Public Library is going to fine me thousands of dollars for having this out for so long, especially given that it’s a rare book.
But they’ll have to catch me first.
I sit on the couch, the velvet box safely in my pocket as I trace a finger over the worn leather cover.
I’ve always enjoyed The Sorrows of Young Werther.
At first, it was just another stupid book assigned by a teacher with a hard-on for esoteric 18th century European literature. But for some reason, this book hooked me. I loved the prose, even though I realized I was reading it in English, and who knows what gets lost in translation, especially from fucking German. But I also know I’m probably never learning German, so, it is what it is.
I liked the way the whole book was written via letters.
But what I loved the most is that one day, it brought me to her.
For a long time, she was just that: “her”.
My correspondent. My pen pal. My fellow Goethe fan with a fiery temper, sharp wit, clever mind, and something captivating about her thoughts.
We wrote back and forth, tucking the notes between the pages of the very book I’m holding in my hands. We talked about nothing and everything. And slowly, we began to dig deeper.
Hauled out demons from our respective closets.
Nightmares and dreams. Fears and aspirations.
Cravings and desires.
And then one day, we decided to move from the page to real life. We discussed what we wanted and made a plan: we’d wear masks, and we’d explore the dark side she’d always wanted to dip her toes into.
We met. And on one mad, reckless evening, I found an equal to my darkness I never thought I would.
Then, bullets shattered everything.
When the violence started, I sent her running to keep her safe. I took a bullet in the arm, but I managed to eliminate the four motherfuckers somebody had sent to kill me. I have no idea how they managed to find me: I later ended up paying an ultra-high-end Chinese hacker to reverse engineer my phone to see if it’d been tracked. But even he couldn’t solve the mystery.
That was just the start of it.
An hour later, after I’d fought my way out of the warehouse space and linked up with a wounded Dom, I learned about my parents.
They’d been ambushed in a restaurant my father owned: a place he’d purposefully emptied for the night so he could have a romantic evening with my mother.
Five motherfuckers with guns—mercenaries, I learned later—barged in on them. They beat my father. They made him watch while they did unspeakable things to my mother.
Then they executed them both.
After that night, I broke a little. Gabby was safe, thank God, but everything else was gone.
My parents. My family as I knew it.
Her.
I knew that night didn’t have to be the end of it. I could have easily found her again.
But sometimes, the way back is blocked and the wounds are so deep that you have to leave it all behind.
So that’s why after I made one last trip to the library and found our book, I took it with me and locked that particular door behind me.
After that, I lost a part of myself. It took a while, but after the dust settled, and I was crowned king, and I made sure Gabby was safe and taken care of, I found myself with a gun to my head in the dead of night.
That’s the night Kir found me.
“Life is pain.”
My eyes squeeze shut. I don’t want to hear his words. He’s already said so much in the three minutes he’s been here that I don’t know how to process it.
How to feel about it.
Where to go from here.
Actually, I already know that last one.
The metal presses to my temple. My finger teases the trigger.
“And sometimes,” he continues, “you can’t escape it.”
He stops right in front of me, his dark eyes fixed on mine.
“But you don’t always have to play by life’s rules.”
He reaches for the gun. I tense, gripping it harder.
“I’ll give it back,” he says quietly. “I promise.”
I don’t know why I believe him, but I do. I watch numbly as he takes the revolver from my hands, opens the cylinder, and taps all six bullets out into his palm.
His eyes slide back to mine.
“You still get to play,” he murmurs. “You still get a chance to square off with death. But not with bullshit odds.”
He holds up a single bullet, then slips it into the cylinder. He snaps it shut and spins it violently.
“You get one bullet, Nero,” he growls. “Just one.”
The gun is in my hand again. My palm is slick as I look away from Kir, toward the framed photo of my parents as well as the book I stole from the library, and the memories of her that come with it.
I press the barrel to my temple. My eyes close as I draw back the hammer.
“Life is pain, Nero,” Kir murmurs. “Sometimes you can’t escape it—”
It happens so fast I don’t have time to second-guess myself.
The neurons in my brain connect. The synapses fire. My finger squeezes the trigger.
CLICK.
My breath leaves my body in a rushing, wooshing sound as the revolver dry-fires against my head.
Kir’s hand wraps around the barrel, removing it gently from my grip.
“But other times,” he says. “You CAN.”
I run my fingers over the copy of Werther again, and a small smile creeps over my lips. I reach inside my pocket and feel the box, nodding.
It’s time.
Time to find my way again. To come clean.
To tell her everything.
…But especially, that I love her.
I exhale once more before I stand and tuck the book back into the safe, close and lock it, and swing the picture back into place.
I’m heading for the door when there’s a knock.
“Nero.”
I frown when I open the door and see Dom standing there, brow furrowed.
“You going somewhere?”
“Yep.”
He clears his throat. “You planning on telling me where?”
“Mmm…nope.”
He grins, rolling his eyes. “Well, before you go… This came for you.”
I frown when he hands me a small, padded mailing envelope; sealed, no postage.
“It came via courier.” Dom answers my unspoken question. “Don’t worry, I had it scanned by security for any explosives residue.”
I’d joke that this is overkill, but… Welcome to my world.
After Dom heads on his way, I close the door and tear open the package.
The little thumb drive I find inside is curious enough.
…The Post-it note stuck to it reading “play me” is even weirder.
I grab my laptop, sit on the couch, and slip in the thumb drive.
There’s only one file, a video. When I click it, I’m not sure what I’m watching at first. Then very quickly, it becomes apparent.
…and my whole reality shifts on its axis.
For a moment, I stare at what plays across the screen, frozen. My body goes numb. My eyes stab into the video, watching it as my hands start to twitch.
No.
It’s like watching the laws of physics break in front of you. Like you’re witnessing something not real, because it can’t be real. Because if it is, it destroys the foundations of everything you think you know.
Reality itself.
The video is brief, but I play it again.
And again.
And again.
My world cracks in half. My heart wrenches and twists. Violence and a cold, dark, churning madness begin to thunder inside me as my vision goes red.
Tonight, I was planning on breaking down the last wall between us.
I was planning to let the truth come out.
…Except it just did, on the screen in front of me.
Like a knife to the fucking back.
