Meet The Neros, Part 1

John entered the classy hotel.

He’d been here many times before, but this time was different.

Usually, the lobby was full of men in business suits or men in T-shirts and flip-flops with their families, also in town for business. Boston wasn’t exactly a vacation city. But for people who had things to do and money to make, this hotel was ideal.

It was close to a shopping center, several offices and most impressively, right on the water. So close in fact, that the only thing separating it from the harbor was a small walkway.

Today, though? The place was nearly empty.

Empty of anyone who wasn’t part of his family.

He didn’t recognize most of them, but he recognized the look.

People in his world—well, in his old world—had a certain presence. A stillness. An aura that gave them away. The kind of thing that made regular people look twice without knowing why.

As he walked deeper into the lobby, a few glanced at him, briefly, then went back to what they were doing. Drinking. Laughing. Talking. Texting.

They didn’t need to check who he was.

If he’d made it this far inside, it meant he was supposed to be here.

And no matter how hard John tried to rub the stink off his skin, that aura still clung to him too.

It was just how he moved now. A habit he’d never let go.

He walked up to the front desk. Behind it was a short Asian woman with long black hair and freckles.

“Hello, can I help you?” she asked.

“Uh, hi. Yes,” John said. “My name is John Nero. I believe there was a key left for me?”

“Oh, yes! Can I see your ID?”

He handed it over and she typed something. As she began typing, John glanced over his shoulder.

Now, everyone was looking at him.

Every conversation had stopped. They were waiting.

“Here you are,” the desk attendant said, handing him a key card. “Room 525. They’ve been waiting for you for about an hour.”

At this, everyone went back to what they were doing, but quieter.

“Well, I guess I shouldn’t keep them waiting,” he said.

The attendant leaned in slightly, lowering her voice. She hid her mouth with one of her hands. “Hey… are you all part of some kind of convention?”

“…What?”

“A business convention or something,” she said. “You all seem to know each other. Big thing going on in town, right?”

It hadn’t even occurred to John before but to regular people, they didn’t look dangerous. They looked connected. They looked professional.

People couldn’t tell the difference between suits and snakes.

Part of him hated that. How could anyone be that naive?

But maybe that was what made them normal.

“Yeah,” he said. “Just don’t tell anyone. It’s a secret convention.”

“Ooh, a secret,” she grinned. “You guys probably shouldn’t have rented out the whole hotel then.”

She laughed and pointed. “Elevator’s right over there.”

“Thanks,” John said. “And seriously. Don’t tell anyone.”

“I won’t say a word,” she said with a smile.

He walked over to the elevator. Everyone in the lobby watched him as he pressed the button.

He watched the light descend slowly toward the ground floor, heart thumping in his chest.

Please let it be empty, he thought.

When the doors opened and revealed no one inside, he exhaled deeply. That meant they weren’t trying to jump him. Not yet.

He stepped inside and hit the button for the fifth floor.

The ride felt longer than it should have, but maybe that was just nerves.

When the doors slid open again, he stepped into a hallway that was completely empty.

He’d expected to see people waiting near the elevator. But he figured that once you got this far in, security didn’t really need to stand in your face anymore.

The elevator let out next to room 501.

He walked down the hall and turned right at 515.

Near the end of the hallway, two men were standing on either side of a door.

That was it.

That was where he was supposed to go.

He slowed his steps as he got closer and then he recognized them.

It was Leo and Luca.

The twins.

Both with long dreads pulled into thick braids, mirror images of each other.

Leo, on the left, turned and broke into a wide grin. “I can’t believe it!”

He slapped his brother on the arm.

Luca matched the grin. “It’s the little man! Or should I say the big man?”

“Hey Leo. Hey Luca,” John said. “I remember you being taller last time we met.”

“That ain’t us,” Luca said. “What you been eating, fertilizer?”

“Yeah,” Leo added. “You're way taller than you used to be. Let me get a look at you.”

He grabbed John by one arm and spun him.

Luca grabbed the other side and spun him the other way.

Ridiculous.

But John let them do what they had to do.

“It’s good to see you, kid,” said Luca. “A lot of us thought you weren’t actually gonna show.”

“Well,” said John, “I know for a fact you would’ve hunted me down if I didn’t.”

Leo laughed. “I remember when you used to ride in the car with us. Always demanding we change the station.”

“And it was always nineties music,” Luca added.

“I wasn’t that intense,” John said.

“In your head, maybe,” they said in unison.

“But now that you’re here,” Leo said, “maybe some of the air will clear.”

“Yeah, right,” John muttered.

“Sorry, kid,” said Luca.

“We tried,” said Leo.

“Just know,” Luca said, voice low now, “if something happens in there…”

“We’ll pull you out nice and easy,” Leo finished.

After checking him out one last time, Leo and Luca opened the door and let John inside.

Inside were faces he actually recognized. His aunts. His uncles. Cousins. All dressed in black.

And the shock on their faces as they saw him—

He was taller now. Seven inches, at least. Bigger build. Sharper jawline. A grown man. They had only ever seen him as a boy.

Yet somehow, despite all the changes, they recognized him instantly.

So maybe his face hadn’t changed as much as he thought.

“It’s been a while,” he said.

“Not long enough,” said one of his uncles.

“You act like I wanted to be here,” John said. “I’m here to get in, get out, and be out of your hair—just like I know you want.”

One of his cousins, Tyrique, stepped up and looked him over. Not threatening, just confused. Like he was seeing a ghost.

“Is that really you? Johnny?” Tyrique asked. “Man… you look way different. I guess that’s what happens when you stick with the CIA side.”

John’s smile faded.

Whatever nerves he’d brought with him into the room were gone. The butterflies in his stomach weren’t just still. They were dead.

All that was left now was frustration. Anger. The same emotions he’d tried to leave behind came rushing back like they’d been waiting for him at the door.

“Better than murdering people all day,” he said coldly. “Besides, you know what happened.”

“Maybe I do. Maybe I don’t,” Tyrique said with a shrug. “All I know is, you’re the only one in this room who’s not family.”

“Whatever.”

John looked around, taking in the space. Then it hit him. He knew this room.

They had stayed here many times before. A large suite. Big living room. Four bedrooms. Kitchen. Office space.

As a kid, he used to press his face against the big glass window while his father typed away in the office next room. Watching the boats drift by. Dreaming about being a sailor. Or joining the Navy.

Kids always dreamed of faraway places. John had made it to those places and somehow still ended up back here.

“Where are they?” he asked.

“In the office. Where else?” someone said.

“Well,” John said, “I’d say it’s been great seeing you all again… but that’d be a lie.”

He headed for the office.

But just as he reached for the door—

Splat!

Something wet smacked against the side of his face. It stunned him only for a moment.

He wiped it off, eyes narrowing. Spit.

“Bastard!”

He turned to see his cousin Carmilla. “How dare you show up here,” Carmilla hissed. “I hoped you’d be dead by now!”

“So that gives you the right to spit on me? What the hell’s wrong with you?” John snapped.

“What’s wrong with me?” she shouted.

She raised a hand to strike him, but he caught her wrist instantly.

One of the uncles stepped in, pulling her back.

“That’s enough,” he said. “You know better than that, Carmilla.”

One of his aunts walked over and handed John a handkerchief, her jaw tight.

“Here,” she said reluctantly. They all hated each other. More specifically, they hated him. And he hated them right back.

But there were still rules. Still a shred of respect. Carmilla had just crossed the line. Which was strange but not unrealistic. Carmilla and him used to be best friends as kids.

She was from the Sicilian side of the family. Grew up overseas in Italy. A tomboy. Always played with the boys but she could keep up. When they got rough, she got rougher.

She was also one of the first to find out when John decided to leave the family.

And when he told her, she’d lost it.

The rage hadn’t faded since. Apparently, it had only grown.

“You don’t deserve anything,” she spat. “You left the family. You’re not one of us! You disgust me. How could you disappear for six years and then show up like it’s nothing?”

She turned to the room.

“Am I the only one seeing this for what it is? Are we really going to let this happen?”

“It was his father’s dying wish,” one of the aunts said.

“So what?” Carmilla snapped. “What’s right is right. And what’s right is that he should be dead! You don’t leave the family.”

She pointed at John.

“Not ever. I bet I could kill you now and they won’t say a word...”

“I’m not going to argue with you, Carmilla,” John said. “The longer I stay here, the more your crazy might rub off on me.”

“I’m not crazy!” she screamed.

“I don’t care.” John stepped toward the door again. “I’m done talking.”

She tried to block him, but the uncle grabbed her a second time.

“Alright, Carmilla. That’s it,” he said.

“No! No—let go of me!” she screamed as he dragged her toward the exit.

The aunt who had handed John the handkerchief spoke again. “She’s been drinking,” she said. “We all have. Just… hurry up. Let’s get this over with.”

John nodded.