Miles (Highway Reapers MC): Inked Hearts (13 page)

Chapter 43

The sky was starting to lighten when Miles finally left the bar. He shivered against the brisk morning breeze as he slowly walked back towards the motel, hoping that Colin, Hank and their female companions would be in a decent state by the time he returned. He passed by the tattoo parlor where Brea worked. The metal shutters were down, it was too early for anyone to be at work.

Miles felt a pang in his heart over how much he missed her as he walked by. He’d wandered in there when he first arrived in Colridge hoping to get some new ink and he’d come away with so much more. But it wasn’t like him. Miles bunched his hands into fists of frustration and quickened his pace. His time living on the street had taught him to be tough, to learn to live on his own. Brea made him want to change, made him want to share his life with someone.

As the motel came in to view Miles slowed. He shoved his hands deep in to his pockets and sauntered across the parking lot towards his motel room door. He paused beside it listened. There were no sounds coming from inside. Taking a deep breath he used his key and let himself in.

It was dark in the room. The drapes were drawn tightly closed, sealing out the growing morning light. In the dim light Miles could make out a few crumpled bodies sprawled out over the first bed. It was a tangle of naked limbs and difficult to discern who was who. Glancing away Miles headed for the bathroom. Thankfully it was empty and he was able to shower off the musty smell of the bar and freshen up.

When he re-entered the bedroom the bodies on the bed had stirred. Hank was now sat up and smoking a cigarette. Dark circles had gathered beneath his eyes. Colin and the two women appeared to still be sleeping.

“Last night was a good night,” Hank grinned as he clocked Miles. “You missed out on all the fun.”

“So it would seem,” Miles glanced towards the bed and raised his eyebrows.

“Haha,” Hank was laughing, his teeth clamped around his half smoked cigarette. “They were game girls I’ll say that for them.”

“Glad you enjoyed yourselves,” Miles leaned awkwardly against a nearby dresser. He wondered if today would be the day he’d actually get a call from his Uncle. There were three members of the Blood Pact now in Colridge, surely it was time for them to start stirring shit up? Otherwise why were they even there? Granted, Miles’ original exile to the town had been a form of punishment but Hank and Colin would have a more legitimate reason to be there. They were some of the hardiest members of the pack. The ones with the most fearful reputations.

During a fight Hank had once dragged a man by his hair over to the curb. He made him bite down around it and then he stomped on his head, breaking the man’s jaw and shattering all his teeth. All the while Hank had been laughing like a maniac.

If Miles hadn’t been there he would have thought the story to be a lie. But he’d stood by and watched Hank’s foot come down hard, heard the sickening snap of bone and witnessed the spray of blood and broken teeth which rained down around Hank’s victim. It had been a sickening scene, yet Miles had been unable to look away. He’d always managed to find the beauty in destruction. He wondered if all members of his pack felt that way.

“Will today be the day?” Hank asked, leaning back on the bed. “We keep waiting on that call.”

“I hope it’s today,” Miles rolled his eyes. “But if it’s not we just need to keep laying low and occupying ourselves.”

“Don’t worry about me,” Hank’s gaze drifted to the naked buttocks of the nearby blonde. He hungrily roved her curves and chuckled to himself. “I can easily be occupied.”

“Good,” Miles hoped the women could entertain his friends long enough to keep them out of trouble. Hank would only be distracted by sex for so long. Then his carnal need would grow and he’d need something more brutal to satiate himself. That was when he’d go seeking out trouble.

Miles reached for a half drunk bottle of whiskey which had been left on the nightstand and swigged from it. The liquor burned his throat as it went down but it succeeded in banishing some of his burgeoning worries.

“Sure you don’t want a ride?” Hank asked as he playfully smacked the woman’s bare cheek. She murmured sleepily but didn’t wake.

“I’m sure,” Miles confirmed.

“What happened to you, man? You used to be fun.”

Miles could only shrug apologetically. He wasn’t about to tell Hank the truth. That now he had someone he cared about. It would make him seem weak in Hank’s eyes and once that happened Hank would stop listening to him and start doing his own thing. And that would be extremely dangerous.

“You’re young,” Hank continued, sounding slightly envious of Miles’ youth. “You should be fucking everything that moves.”

“I’ve got the clap.” It was the easiest and most convenient lie Miles could think of. It was also a way to stop Hank and Colin trying to lure him in to sharing their bedfellows.

“Damn,” Hank gestured for Miles to pass over the bottle of whiskey he was holding. “Been there. It’s no fun.”

“Uh huh,” Miles passed over the bottle of whiskey. Hank raised it to his lips and tipped it back before drinking heavily as though it were iced tea. When he was done he wiped the back of his hand across his mouth and gave a satisfied sigh.

“Well, don’t worry, I’ll be having plenty of fun on your behalf,” Hank returned what was left of his cigarette to his mouth and handed the bottle back to Miles.

“Uh, what time is it?” the brunette’s eyes fluttered open as she stretched on the bed. When she noticed Miles she offered him a sexy smile, not caring that she was completely naked and fully on display.

“It’s time you sucked my dick,” Hank told her boldly. She sat up and faced him. For a moment she scowled and Miles wondered if she was going to slap him hard across the face. But then her gaze became more seductive and she began to shuffle closer to him on the bed.

“I’m heading out,” Miles couldn’t reach the door to the room fast enough. He stepped outside just in time to hear Hank start to groan with appreciation.

Chapter 44

“This is Miles?” Sylar stared at the cell phone in his hand, scrutinized the image of the hardened guy with the sun illuminating his face. So many angry thoughts tumbled against Sylar like a tidal wave that he thought he might drown beneath.

In the picture his sister and her boyfriend were in bed. Seemingly naked. Which meant that they were having sex. Sylar tried not to lose his shit at the thought of his little sister having sex. He told himself to be reasonable. She was an adult now, she had a life to live. But he couldn’t detach from the little girl he’d consoled when they lost their parents who had long braids and freckles on her cheeks.

But it was more than just the loss of her innocence that angered him. The guy in the picture looked familiar. His tattooed arm was on display as it wrapped around Brea. Sylar could see ships and anchors, it looked like a naval themed sleeve. And Sylar had definitely seen that before.

He returned Brea’s cell phone to her and wiped a hand down his face, wracking his memory. Where had he seen the guy? The memory was foggy as though it occurred a long time ago, or when he was drunk.

“Sylar?” Brea was gazing up at him expectantly, waiting for him to say something, anything. He managed to crack a smile for her.

“He looks like a nice guy.”

“Thanks,” Brea grinned and then gazed adoringly at the picture on her phone which was now back in her possession. Sylar tensed. He didn’t like her looking at the picture like that. She was behaving like a love sick school girl. But the tattoo was bothering him even more than her behavior.

“You okay to hang here for a while? I just need to pop into town,” he was already reaching for his jacket as he spoke.

“Oh, okay,” he could hear the hurt inflection in his sister’s voice.

“I promise I won’t be long,” he insisted. “And when I get back we can hang out.”

“Can we play Candyland?” Brea wondered hopefully, referring to the board game they always used to sit and play together on rainy.

“Sure,” Sylar smiled warmly at her. “It’s in the cupboard near the hallway.”

“I’ll go find it and get it set up,” Brea told him sweetly. And just like that she was back to being his cherub faced little sister who he needed to protect at all costs.

Chapter 45

Sylar’s hand ached from pounding so hard on the flimsy apartment door. Exhaustion was creeping up on him as he glanced uneasily down the corridor. A couple of used syringes were scattered on the threadbare carpet and everywhere stank of piss.

“Fuck’s sake!” the door finally rattled open. From the darkness within the apartment Smith peered out, his good eye squinting against the brightness of the light in the corridor. “This better be good,” he warned.

“I’m sorry to come over like this,” Sylar apologized. He knew better than to get on Smith’s bad side but his question was urgent and couldn’t wait. Nor could he risk it being recorded down on a cell phone in a message.

“I need to ask you something.”

Smith leaned against the doorframe and folded his arms across his bare chest. “Do you need to come in?” he wondered, thinking Sylar was in trouble.

“No, I won’t put you out if you’ve got company.”

“I’ve always got company,” Smith confirmed flatly.

“Right, of course. Look, I just,” Sylar was flailing, almost too tired and panicked to string his words together cohesively.

“Do you remember a guy with a naval tattoo sleeve? Like anchors, ships and shit?”

“Yeah,” Smith instantly gave a nod. “Pretty handsome guy, young?”

“That’s him.” Sylar thought of the guy in the picture, cozying up to his sister and tried not to let his rage erupt out right there and then.

“I know the guy you mean. He runs with the Blood Pact.”

Sylar felt like he’d been shot in the chest. He pressed one arm against the wall to steady himself.

“He runs with pact? Are you sure?”

“Positive,” Smith swiftly confirmed. “That mother fucker once snapped a pool cue over my back. I’d love to rip that fucking sleeve right off him and feed the tattered skin back to him.”

Sylar swallowed nervously. He felt light headed with worry. His sister was dating a member of the Blood Pact. She was sleeping with the enemy and that put both him and her in a very dangerous position.

“Why you asking about him?” Smith narrowed his eyes with suspicion. “Is he the guy who has rocked up in Colridge? If so just say the word and I’m your man. I’ll end him in a heartbeat.”

Sylar didn’t want to lie to his friend. He also didn’t want to endanger his sister. He thought of her back home carefully laying out the board game for them to innocently play together. All the while he was going behind her back to learn the grim truth about her boyfriend.

“I saw him riding out on the highway,” Sylar explained lamely. “I clocked the tat and wondered if he ran with a club.”

“You woke me up for
that
?” Smith wrinkled his nose in disgust. “To ask me about some dude you saw riding down the highway?”

“I’m a little fried,” Sylar gave an apologetic shrug and hoped he did look tired enough to be believable. Smith nodded with understanding and his expression softened.

“I hear you. Try not to hit those drugs so hard next time, eh?”

“Yeah, totally.”

“So I’ll see you tonight?” Smith asked expectantly.

“Yeah, man. I’ll see you tonight. Thanks again.”

Chapter 46

Brea rubbed at her temples, which throbbed. She was exhausted but she wasn’t about to pass up spending time with Sylar. The front door creaked open almost an hour after he’d left.

“Hey,” she called out brightly. “The game is all set up.”

She looked down at all the colorful pieces she’d carefully arranged in preparation for playing together. Although the game had faded with time it still retained some of its original gleeful beauty. Brea remembered how excited she’d get whenever her parents brought the colorful box out of the cupboard. Her stomach would flip in somersaults. In their house, rainy afternoons were made for playing Candy Land.

“Hey,” Sylar dropped down heavily on the sofa and ran his hands through his hair. He was pale and withdrawn. He looked like he’d seen a ghost.

“Is everything okay?” Brea hovered protectively close to the board game.

“Yeah,” Sylar gave her an unconvincing smile. “Everything is fine.”

“You don’t look like everything is fine,” Brea pressed, feeling her happiness ebb out of her. She gave the game a disdainful glance. It now looked old and weathered instead of quirkily aged. She’d been foolish to think that a board game would be enough to smooth over whatever was going on between her and her brother. Candy Land wasn’t a magic portal which could transport them back to happier times, times when their parents were still around.

“I’m fine,” Sylar insisted, his jaw clenching. “Let’s just play the damn game,” he swept a dismissive hand towards the board.

“No way,” Brea scrambled to start packing everything away. “I’m not playing with you, not when you’re in this kind of mood. What the hell is wrong with you, Sylar?”

Her brother looked like he was biting his tongue.

“You know what, forget it!” Brea seethed in frustration. Abandoning the game she stormed off towards the bathroom.