Mason: Inked Reapers MC (73 page)

Chapter 47

Sylar watched her leave with a passive gaze. He was too tired for confrontation and too agitated to chase after her. He kept thinking about his conversation with Smith, how it had been all but confirmed that his little sister’s new boyfriend rode with the Highway Reapers. Slowly he got up and headed for the fridge, needing a fresh beer to take the edge off. As he pulled open the door the cell phone in his pocket starting buzzing.

With a groan, he kicked the fridge door shut and grabbed his cell. Gina was calling. He released an even louder groan before answering.

“Hey,” he greeted curtly, his voice hoarse.

“Sylar, it’s me, Gina.”

“Uh huh.” She sounded pissed off. Sylar wasn’t in the mood to argue with another woman. He wondered why he’d even bothered to take the call. He slumped against the fridge, realizing that he was too tired to even think straight anymore. He needed to rest.

“I hope you don’t mind me calling,” she said tentatively. He could picture her standing in her apartment, nervously twirling her hair around her fingers. Sylar swallowed down the guilt which bubbled in his throat. He had too much going on to worry about hurting some girl’s feelings.

“What is it?” he narrowed his eyes as he asked the question, wedging his phone up between his shoulder and ear before opening the fridge once again. Some of his tension eased as his hand closed around a fresh bottle of beer and retrieved it.

“Hello to you too,” Gina remarked sourly. Sylar popped the cap off his beer and strolled back towards the sofa. He didn’t make eye contact with the half packed away game of Candy Land sitting beside it.

“Gina, I’m tired,” Sylar stated, loathing how he felt compelled to explain himself. “I’ve been up all night so can we please just get to the point?”

“Fine,” on the other end of the line she gave a stiff sigh of agreement. “The other day some guys were here. They didn’t cause any trouble but…” there was a long pause. “I think they might have similar…interests to you.”

Sylar’s eyes widened as he slowly lowered his beer from his lips.

“How many guys?”

“Two.”

That was one more than Miles. Sylar put down his beer altogether and glanced nervously in the direction of the bathroom. Brea could return any minute and hear him talking and he didn’t want that.

“How much does she know?” he demanded tersely.

“Not enough,” Gina scoffed. “Look, Sylar. I know how this stuff tends to go down and I don’t want any trouble. I’ve got a business to run. If you sent them my way then - ”

“I didn’t send them,” Sylar swiftly interjected. He could feel his skin prickling and starting to get hot.

“But they asked for Brea by name.”

Sylar stood up which only added to the dizzy sensation he was feeling. “They asked for Brea?!” he uttered in disbelief.

“They said they’d heard of her. That they’d heard she was a good tattoo artist.”

“Shit,” Sylar paced back and forth beside the sofa. He hadn’t sent anyone over to Gina’s tattoo parlor which meant that Miles must have done it. Which meant that there were more Highway Reapers members in Colridge. Were they gathering there like dark clouds before a storm? Had they asked for Brea by name to send some sort of twisted message to Sylar? Was she in danger?

“If they come back, don’t serve them,” Sylar ordered sternly.

“I can’t do that,” he could hear the indignation in Gina’s pitched voice. “Brea is working on a sleeve for the one of them. He’s due to come back for a few appointments.”

“Cancel all of them.”

“Sylar, I can’t, this is my business and - ”

“If they know who she is, that she’s my sister, they will hurt her,” Sylar was hissing the words into his cell phone, his pulse racing. “And by hurt I don’t mean slap around. I mean maim and maybe worse. Those guys being there puts her in danger.”

Gina was silent.

“Please, make sure they don’t come back.”

“Did you bring trouble to my town?” Gina asked sharply. It sounded like she was struggling not to cry.

“No,” Sylar reassured her as softly as he could. “Trouble was already there long before I arrived.”

Chapter 48

Brea splashed her face with cold water to try and hide the mottled stain on her cheeks from where she’d been crying. She felt foolish to have expected Sylar to be nice to her. He probably still resented her for leaving town in the first place and being mean was his way of punishing her.

Straightening her t-shirt Brea made the decision to have a nap in her old bedroom and then head straight back to Colridge. She was done with her brother and his petty grudges. But when she returned to the main living area of the house she was surprised to find Sylar bent over the game of Candy Land, carefully rearranging all the pieces which Brea had hastily packed away.

“Sylar?” Brea titled her head at him, wondering what he was doing.

“Hey,” he looked up at her giving her his easy going grin, the one he used to wear as a kid. It looked strange to see it on his adult face, but also comforting.

“I’m sorry about earlier,” he explained, his eyes dropping back to the game. “I’m just tired and have got a lot going on at work, but I can’t go taking that shit out on you.”

“So you want to play now?” Brea wondered, intrigued as she sat down beside him. She felt a thrill of excitement run down her spine. She’d missed this version of her brother – the kind, fun Sylar.

“If you can handle me beating your ass,” Sylar joked.

“You know the rule,” Brea reminded him with a warm smile, “best out of three.”

“You’re on.”

Chapter 49

Miles turned up his collar as he walked down the street. He didn’t really know where he was going, just that he wanted out of that damn motel room. It was quiet at such an early hour. A few cars meandered down the road, but most shops were still closed. The sky overhead was a light shade of gray, promising a day of cloud cover but no rain. Miles quickened his pace. He liked Colridge; It was a small town, but it was clean and well maintained. He approached a shop door and noticed a large clothed bundle wedged up against the wall on the top step.

He swallowed against the lump which had gathered in his throat. He knew from experience that within that bundle a homeless person was sleeping. Even the nicest of towns had homeless, it was an inevitable fact of life. Miles could still remember the constant pinch from the cold and the never ending gnawing in his stomach that came from being perpetually hungry. There was a time when that would have been him curled up in a ball, trying to fend off the elements as best he could.

Miles fished a five-dollar bill out of his pocket and reached towards the bundle, carefully placing it on the step beside them. The bundle didn’t move. Sadly, Miles stepped back and carried on. Whoever was nestled up inside had probably learned to stay perfectly still when strangers approached. When he was living on the street, Miles would be harassed on a daily basis. It didn’t help that he was young and handsome. People with dark fantasies would mistake his living rough for being their property. Men in designer suits would offer him crisp dollar bills in exchange for sexual favors. But no matter how empty his stomach felt that was something he would never do. He’d seen others disappear down dark alleys with such men and never return.

Walking faster Miles did his best to put some distance between himself and his demons. He rubbed his hands together as if trying to stave off the cold, though the morning was relatively mild. Twice he’d almost lost his fingers to frost bite. So many times he’d teetered between the edge of life and death that he no longer feared it. Sometimes he wondered if his Uncle was taking advantage of that when he introduced him to the Reapers.

Chapter 50

As Gina began opening up her tattoo parlor, the conversation with Sylar was still resonating in the forefront of her mind. She’d deliberated all night about whether or not she should have called him. The guys who came in might not even run with a motorcycle gang, they might just be assholes. But on the wrist of the one she was sure she’d spied the dark silhouette of a scythe. And he’d been careful to try and conceal it from her, which only roused her suspicions more. If it meant nothing, there’d be no harm in it being in plain sight.

Her stomach turned when she imagined the blonde guy returning for his sleeve to be worked on. As much as she wanted to heed Sylar’s warnings, she couldn’t very well turn him away. What if she was wrong? What if they weren’t gang members? She couldn’t afford to turn down work especially when they tipped as well as those guys did.

Gina reasoned that she could finish the sleeve herself but would that look suspicious? She was chewing on these thoughts when the door tinkled and the first guy Brea had tattooed strolled in. Gina caught her breath. He was so handsome in his leather jacket and heavy boots. His hair had been tousled by the wind so that it had playfully landed over his eyes.

“Morning,” he greeted her, his voice as deep and sensuous as the richest velvet.

“We’re um…not open yet,” Gina was batting her eyelashes at him.

“Oh,” he gave her a shy smile. “Sorry. I was just walking by and wanted to drop in and say hi to Brea. I guess I was operating on auto-pilot or something.” He nervously shoved his hands into the pocket of his jeans.

The corners of Gina’s mouth lifted in an intrigued smile.

“You were looking for Brea?”

“Yeah,” the guy started to blush. Gina nodded knowingly to herself. So this was the reason for Brea’s happiness. And who could blame her? The guy was impossibly handsome and sexy with just the right amount of bad boy edge.

“She’s not in today,” Gina explained. “She’s visiting her brother,” she felt compelled to say more, to keep the handsome guy within her sight for as long as she could.

“Oh, yeah, of course,” he gave a nervous little laugh. “No problem. Thanks again.”

The door chimed as he left. Gina watched his perfect ass in his jeans depart from the store. Her pulse was racing by the time he’d left.

Chapter 51

Sylar ached both from lack of sleep and from the worries which gnawed at his every conscious thought. Brea was blissfully unaware of his inner anguish as she stood by the front door, waiting for her cab to arrive.

“I’ve had so much fun,” she smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners. Sylar had to admit that for a while he’d had fun too. But as soon as he’d seen Miles’ picture all his enjoyment had been overshadowed by worry.

“It was good seeing you,” Sylar reached for his sister and gave her a tight hug. It felt good to hold her close but also strange. Brea was so much taller than the girl he’d had to look out for all those years ago. She was a woman now. But Sylar still felt the need to protect her, especially from someone as dangerous as a Highway Reapers member.

A part of him wanted to just yell at her, to scream until he lost his voice about how she needed to stay away from Miles. But he knew that if he did that he’d just be effectively pushing her into her lover’s arms. No, he needed to be more subtle about his dislike for Miles and hope that it would be enough to make his sister see sense.

“Feels like only yesterday I was living here,” Brea sighed as they parted from their embrace.

“It pretty much was,” Sylar agreed. “You’ve barely been away. You don’t want to go rushing into anything.” He chose his words carefully and registered Brea’s response. He saw her bristle beneath the turquoise playsuit she was wearing. A hand drifted up to her neck and began to massage the back of it.

“I’m not rushing into anything,” she insisted plaintively.

“You seem pretty in love to me,” Miles folded his arms across his chest. “I just hope he’s on the same page.”

“Of course he is!”

“So you guys have talked about the future?” Mile queried. He didn’t like what he was doing. Every word he spoke felt like bile in his mouth. But if Brea started asking Miles about their future and where their relationship was going it would be the ultimate deterrent, especially to a Reaper member. Those guys were notoriously nomadic with relationships, adopting a “wherever they leave their hat” policy.

“Sure, we’ve talked about the future,” Brea nodded but her bleak expression revealed the truth.

“Good,” Sylar rested a hand on his sister’s shoulder. “Because he’d be a fool not to want to marry you.”

“I didn’t say we’ve discussed
marriage
,” Brea frowned, shrugging him off.

“Why not?” Sylar persisted. “That’s where the relationship is headed, isn’t it?”

“Won’t I seem like a bit of a bunny boiler to be asking about marriage already?”

“Not if you’re serious about him.”

Pouting thoughtfully, Brea turned back to look through the window. The street outside remained empty; her cab yet to arrive.

“I am serious about him,” she eventually concluded.

“Then you probably should be discussing marriage.”

“Sylar,” Brea sighed his name as she spun around to look at him. “Are you saying this because you genuinely care about my future or because you’re hoping I’ll look like some sort of crazy person and scare Miles off?”

Sylar was stunned into silence. Brea was more perceptive than he’d given her credit for.

“I didn’t expect you to be overly keen on me being in a relationship,” she frowned at him. “But I’d hoped for at least your support.”

Lowering his head Sylar could feel the tips of his ears burning with shame. She was right, of course she was right and under any other circumstance he would have been supportive. But Miles wasn’t just a regular guy, he rode with the Highway Reapers and that made him unpredictable and dangerous.

“I genuinely care about your future,” Sylar promised. And he truly did. The only reason he wanted her to break things off with Miles was because he cared about her future. He didn’t want her getting embroiled in any pack problems. And there were definitely problems brewing. The very fact that Miles, and some of his cronies, had taken up residence in Colridge was extremely troubling. The Reapers were planning a strike, the question was when would it happen?

“Oh, cab’s here,” Brea saw the yellow car as it slid up to the curb and stopped. She shouldered her bag and gave her brother a sad smile.

“Will you at least meet him?” she asked, cocking her head to the side the way she used to do when she was a little girl, whenever she was trying to get her way.

Sylar knew it would be a terrible idea for him to meet Miles. What if Miles recognized him? Or worse, what if Miles was only even dating Brea to get to him? Sylar shuddered at the thought, but he wouldn’t put such behavior past the Highway Reapers. Smith’s scars were a painful reminder of just how far they’d go to protect their turf and the kind of depths they were willing to sink to. 

The cab driver was now honking his horn, the sound cutting through the peaceful stillness of the street. But Brea didn’t move, she stood staring at her brother, her eyes wide and expectant.

“Brea…” Sylar fumbled for an excuse.

“You’re meeting him,” Brea concluded for him, swinging open the front door with unnecessary force.  “You can’t possibly dislike someone you’ve never met,” she continued as she stepped out into the late afternoon sunshine.

“Meet him first. And if you still don’t like him, then fine.”

“I never said I didn’t like him,” Sylar protested as she strode down the driveway towards the waiting cab. He tightened his fists as he noticed the cab driver cast an appreciative sweep of a glance up his sister’s bare legs.

“You didn’t have to,” Brea shot back over her shoulder before bundling herself into the cab. Sylar groaned and cracked his knuckles as she watched her drive away. He sensed that removing Miles from her life was going to prove tougher than he’d originally hoped.