Miles (Highway Reapers MC): Inked Hearts (8 page)

Chapter 25

Sylar missed his sister. With her gone the house felt so bare and empty. Alone, it was easier to give into his darker thoughts about missing his parents. Even taking on extra jobs for the Blood Pact wasn’t helping kill enough time or stem some of his loneliness. There was also talk of a member of the Highway Reapers being in Colridge and stirring up trouble which made Sylar nervous.

“Couple of bar fights got out of hand,” his friend Smith told him over a beer as they sat in the bar owned by the Blood Pact.

“How out of hand?” Sylar sought for clarity.

“Some stitches needed here and there, some bruised ribs.” Smith shrugged casually and drank deeply from his bottle of beer. He was no stranger to injuries himself. The left side of his face was mottled with the aging scar of a severe burn wound when a member of the Reapers had thrown acid on his face. The skin still appeared melted and tender though all of the hair had managed to grow back on his scalp which helped resemble his former self more easily.

“You think the Reapers are looking to start a turf war?” that was the last thing Sylar wanted. If a turf war broke out he’d have to go and get Brea out of there. And of course she’d resist and want to know the truth. But she still thought he worked out in some factory, how would she feel if she knew what he really did?

“Maybe,” Smith shrugged again. He always maintained a level of indifference when it came to pack business. That was until someone either insulted him or one of his friends. Then he morphed in to a ball of blind rage. He’d killed men in the past with nothing more than a tooth pick. Smith was like a dangerous, exotic pet. Treat him nice and he’ll be loyal and protective, abuse him and he’ll devour you in a second. Sylar knew that Smith was someone best kept on his side.

“My sister is over there,” Sylar admitted sadly. “Working at some tattoo parlor in Colridge.”

“Oh?” Smith’s eyebrows raised with interest. He’d only seen Brea twice during the years he’d been friends with Sylar, but both times his eyes had all but popped out of his head and he’d asked after her for months afterwards.

“She’s strictly off limits,” Sylar growled. It was a warning he’d given to all his Blood Pact brethren and they respected it. When it came to family members dating was always off limits unless strictly allowed by the relative member of the pack. And Sylar wasn’t about to let a dangerous member of his motorcycle gang take his sister out. He’d endeavored for years to keep her pure of all the dark dealings which went on in town.

“Shame,” Smith raised his good arm to order another beer.

“So what are we going to do about this asshole stirring stuff up in Colridge?” Sylar demanded, his nostrils flaring. He’d normally be more relaxed about such things but Brea being there made the intrusion feel personal.

“Nothing for now.”

“If we do nothing, we look weak.”

“If we react too swiftly and cry over spilt milk we look weak.”

“Mmm,” Sylar mumbled half in agreement and half in frustration as he drank more of his beer. The Blood Pact was always consumed with towing a fine line between being threatened and threatening. Disputes between the Reapers could turn deadly and neither pack wanted to lose members over something trivial.

“So you think this guy is nothing to worry about?” Sylar questioned, wiping a hand across his mouth.

“He’s just one guy,” Smith shrugged and titled his head up towards the television which was showing a cage fighting match. The power house fighter Jasper Duboix was just stepping into the ring.

“What can one guy do?” Smith asked. “Unless, of course, he’s me,” he added with a cheeky grin.

Sylar patted his friend on the back and laughed. “You are a one man whirlwind.”

“You bet.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes, just watching the fight and drinking their beers. Sylar could still remember the night Smith and him were attacked. Sylar was only seventeen, Smith a few years older but not many. They were still new to the pack and didn’t understand the fragile territories. They went to watch a rock band play at a bar a few miles outside of town. It pained Sylar to remember what a good time they had. The beer had been flowing, the music was great and the small venue pulsated with energy. But when they stepped out into the parking lot everything changed.

A group of burly men were waiting for them, their motorcycles circled behind them. Sylar knew immediately who they were and how much trouble they were in. The men flew at the young pair. Sylar was pinned down and badly beaten. He didn’t trouble himself to fight back too fiercely, he knew he was out numbered. But Smith fought. He clawed at everyone who came near him and even ripped out a nose stud with his teeth. The man who had lost his stud clutched desperately at his nose, wailing, while another stalked back to his bike. He came back holding a small jug of something which omitted smoke and a strange odor. By the time Sylar realized what was happening it was too late. He screamed as the acid was poured onto Smith’s face as four men held him down, laughing wickedly. Smith screamed in agony as the air turned foul with the stench of his burning flesh.

Sylar had done everything he could for Smith. He’d rushed him to the nearest hospital and sat with him as the doctors painstakingly did their best to remove the worst of the acid. But the damage had been done. Though Smith had been lucky to live, he would be scarred for the rest of his life. He’d been a handsome, impulsive young guy and now he’d forever be a gruesome reminder of how fiercely the Blood Pact would protect their territory. 

“I think I might pay my sister a visit,” Sylar declared suddenly, the anger from that night burning hot in his veins once more. “Ask a few questions around town, see if I can’t root out this snake that’s causing trouble.”

“Just be careful,” Smith offered cautiously.

“Don’t worry, I will be.”

Chapter 26

“You’re coming to visit?” Brea was a heady mixture of excitement and nerves at the prospect as she talked to Sylar, pacing around her apartment as she kept the cell phone wedged against her ear with her shoulder.

“I was thinking this weekend,” Sylar replied.

“Does this have anything to do with Gina?” Brea teased.

“No,” Sylar insisted sharply. “I just want to spend time with my little sister, is that okay?”

“Of course it’s okay,” Brea laughed nervously. She could feel Miles watching her from where he sat upon the sofa, his long, muscular arms spread out across the back of it. “I can’t wait to see you.”

Plans were made, times decided upon and then the call was ended. Brea exhaled deeply and shoved her phone back in to her jeans pocket.

“So your brother is coming to visit,” Miles noted after a few moments pause.

“Uh huh,” Brea nodded nervously.

“Maybe we could all…get together?” Miles suggested casually. Brea smiled in gratitude at the offer. She knew that he was being kind, was making an effort to get to know her brother but she also knew Sylar. Springing a boyfriend on him would only make him mad and their new found dynamic was still so fragile. She didn’t want to go and drive a wedge between them when he’d so far been so good about her living away in Colridge.

“Maybe next time,” Brea gave Miles her sweetest smile, hoping it was enough to deter him from the subject. It wasn’t.

“Why not this time?” Miles pressed. “I’d really like to meet him.”

“My brother is just…” Brea looked down helplessly at her hands. “He can be so over protective. I think it’s better if you hold off meeting him, just for now.”

Miles nodded gravely with understanding.

“Okay. But I do want to meet him.”

“I know.”

Miles was standing up and striding over to her, a cheeky smile now fixed upon his face.

“Because I’m such a loving boyfriend that it really matters to me that my girlfriend is happy.”

“I know.” He was now standing directly before her. His presence was enough to make Brea’s heart skip beats in her chest. She felt breathless and lightheaded. She was amazed that a man can do that to her.

“Come here,” Miles reached out for her, scooping her up in to his powerful arms and carrying her over to the small kitchen table in the center of the room. She gasped as he laid her down on it and began removing her jeans.

“I’m such a loving boyfriend,” Miles continued flirtatiously. “Always making sure you’re happy.”

“I’m a lucky girl,” Brea gasped as he removed her panties with a flourish and dropped them to the floor. With her bottom half exposed to him she panted heavily in anticipation of what would come next. She was surprised when Miles bowed his head and squatted towards the floor. She shuddered with uncontrollable desire when his tongue brushed up against her aching clit.

“Am I the best boyfriend in the world?” he breathed teasingly before parting his lips to gently suckle Brea’s engorged clit.

“The best!” she insisted desperately. “The best!” He was making her so wet and excited that she could barely think straight.

Miles pressed his knees against the floor and reached for Brea’s hips, guiding himself closer to her warm pussy. He expertly slid his tongue between her lips, savoring how she tasted. He felt her body flex and shudder beneath him which made him hard.

“Oh, Miles,” Brea helplessly flailed against the table, feeling like fireworks were about to explode within her.

“Miles!” she panted his name as she came over and over, his mouth hot and amazing against her.

Chapter 27

“It’s a nice place,” Sylar commented amicably as he sat at the table eating the noodles Brea had made for him. She had to suppress the smirk which threatened to bloom across her lips when she thought about what had happened on that very table just a few hours earlier.

“Are you settling in okay?” Sylar wondered. He seemed tenser than he had during his last visit. His shoulders were hunched as he sat over his dinner and he jumped at the slightest sound. Brea wondered if he was sleeping okay. At first she’d struggled to sleep alone in her apartment at night, but now most nights she was curled up beside Miles which meant that she slept soundly.

“It feels more like home now,” Brea admitted honestly with a soft smile.

“Hmm,” Sylar frowned.

“Of course I still really miss our real home,” Brea quickly added.

“It’s different without you there,” Sylar said quietly.

“Different how?”

“I don’t know,” her brother bristled at the question. “Just different.”

For a few minutes they just ate in silence.

“Have you made many friends?” Sylar wondered.

“A few.”

“Anyone outside of the tattoo parlor?”

Brea tensed but managed to fix a pleasant smile upon her face. Did Sylar know about Miles? Was he trying to trick her in to making some sort of admission about him?

“Not really,” she replied sweetly. “I’m either at work or here.”

“Huh,” Sylar nodded thoughtfully. “Okay, good.”

They continued to eat.

“Have you noticed anyone strange come in to the tattoo parlor?”

“Define strange,” Brea laughed. But her smile quickly sagged when she clocked Sylar’s stern expression.

“Sylar, what do you mean?” she sighed. “If you’ve got a specific question for me, just ask it.”

“I did ask it.”

“Fine,” Brea groaned. “Strange people come in to the tattoo parlor all the time. Unique people. Nice people. I’m very safe here in Colridge, Sylar. I thought you coming here to visit was you being nice, not you checking in on me.”

“I’m not,” Sylar lowered his head in defeat. “I’m not checking in on you, sis. I am trying to be nice.” he gestured around the apartment. “This is new for me, okay? I’m doing my best.”

“I know,” Brea agreed softly. She knew how hard Sylar must be trying to get along as he was. Not too long ago they were living under the same roof, with her barely going out anywhere. Now she lived in another town, it must be quite the adjustment for him to get used to.

“How’s work?” she asked, eager to change the subject.

“It’s shit,” Sylar scowled.

“Oh, sorry.”

“No,” Sylar pushed away his now empty bowl. “There’s just some stuff going down. Stuff that needs to get sorted.”

“Sounds intense.”

“It can be,” Sylar gazed distantly across the room.

“Gina suggested we all go out to this bar in town tonight,” Brea declared brightly. As she’d hoped her brother’s expression softened at the mentioned of her neon haired boss.

“Oh?”

“Yeah, it’s this cool bar a few blocks from the tattoo parlor.”

“Sounds good.”

Brea tried to remain nonchalant but inside she was buzzing. She was going to go out for drinks with her friends and her brother, it was the kind of thing normal people did. It was the kind of thing they’d surely have done if they’d not lost their parents so young. They were actually starting to become friends and Brea couldn’t be happier about it.