Mason: Inked Reapers MC

by West, Heather

“And I’m going to draw up a list of images that are forbidden in here. There’s no way I’m getting caught up in gang politics.”

  “Okay, sure,” Collin was nodding frantically as he nervously gripped the edge of the reception desk.

  “Don’t worry,” Gina urged him, her face brightening with a smile. “At least not yet.”

  Chapter 33

  Miles pulled up outside his Uncle Deacon’s bar. The sun was bright overhead and he squinted against it as he parked his bike and sauntered inside. The darkness within the bar was in stark contrast to the bright light outside. It took a moment for Miles’ eyes to adjust. Once he spotted where the weathered old man was sitting he walked over, his boots thumping against the chipped wooden floor.

  “Hey, Uncle Deacon,” Miles pulled down the sunglasses he’d been wearing on the table beside him as he slid into a vacant chair opposite the old man.

  “Thanks for coming by so quick,” Deacon gave a brisk nod of gratitude.

  “No problem,” Miles stretched out his long legs and leaned back in his chair. “So to what do I owe the pleasure? Am I being brought back to the bosom of the brood?”

  “Always such a joker,” Deacon chided his young nephew. “How are things in Colridge?”

  “Good,” Miles replied ambiguously. He didn’t want his Uncle to know about Brea. Not yet. It might influence the old man’s decision to have him leave town sooner than he should. Deacon could be cruel like that, it was a by-product of being old and bitter.

  “How do you feel about staying out there a little longer?” Deacon wondered tentatively. Miles raised his eyebrows, trying not to look too happy, only surprised. He’d figured that in being called back to the bar his time in Colridge might be over. He had a whole speech planned about why he needed to stay there, how there was still much he could learn by being in the town.

  “A bit longer?”

  “Say a month or so,” Deacon shrugged.

  “I…um, I can do that.”

  Deacon raised his arm and two beers promptly arrived at the table.

  “So the extended stay?” Miles wondered as he raised the cool bottle to his lips.

  “There’s talk that a member of the Blood Pact has been there.”

  “Oh?”

  “A high up member, someone you don’t want to mess with.”

  “What does that mean?” the cool amber liquid slid down the back of Miles’ throat but it tasted bitter. He knew all too well what it meant for a senior member of a pack to show up in a town. It meant trouble.

  “Means they know you are there,” Deacon narrowed his eyes angrily. “Means they are looking to shake things up a bit, scare you out of town.”

  “Huh.” Miles instantly thought of Brea. If someone was looking to scare him, she was an obvious target. His entire body tensed with the desire to protect her.

  “That’s why you need to stay there,” Deacon explained. “Lure them out into the light like the cockroaches they are.”

  “And then squash them?”

  “Exactly,” Deacon clasped his hands over his ample chest, a look of smug satisfaction on his withered face.

  “And I’m supposed to do that alone?” Miles titled his head at his Uncle. If a load of Blood Pact members showed up in Colridge, he’d hardly be a force to be reckoned with standing alone against them.

  “I’ll send some more boys back with you,” Deacon offered. “Put them up in that motel with you.”

  Miles felt his shoulders sag. With other Highway Reapers members around it would be harder to have time with Brea. It also increased the risk of their relationship being discovered.

  “I’m not saying we want trouble,” Deacon clarified, a cruel smile pulling on his lips. “But we want Colridge. It’s time for us to branch out a little.”

  “I couldn’t agree more,” Miles nodded. He was as keen as his Uncle to see the Highway Reapers thrive. More territories meant more members and strength in numbers.

  “Handle any Blood Pact members you find by any means you deem necessary,” Deacon ordered. “I’ll inform the guys heading out with you to take their cue from you. You okay with that?”

  Miles gave a stiff nod. He didn’t need to ask what means his Uncle was suggesting. He knew that if he needed to take a life no one would judge him for it. In fact murder only worked to strengthen the Highway Reapers’ formidable reputation. Miles already had the blood of several men on his hands and he wasn’t keen to add to that stain.

  “Hopefully it won’t come to any bloodshed.”

  “Where’s the fun in that?” Deacon asked wickedly. “I’m not sending you out there to make friends, Miles. Make no mistake about that. We’re heading for war, these are dark times. I need to know that when the time comes, I can count on you.”

  “You can count on me,” Miles promised. “We’re family.”

  “Good lad,” Deacon leaned forward and patted his nephew’s outstretched hand. “Blood is thicker than water, don’t you ever go forgetting that. The Highway Reapers gang was formed on the strength of brotherhood and loyalty.”

  “I know, Uncle.”

  “But you need to keep yourself out of trouble with the ladies,” Deacon warned. “Don’t forget why I sent you to Colridge in the first place.”

  Miles could barely recall his tryst before leaving for Colridge. Shame burned through him as he remembered. Now all his past conquests felt like awkward mistakes when compared to his time with Brea. He could feel pairs of angry eyes watching him from around the bar. Perhaps he’d taken things too far when he left, had been too cocky.

  “You don’t need to worry about me with the ladies,” Miles promised, flashing his Uncle his boldest smile.

  “You gone and got a ball and chain?” Deacon raised an eyebrow.

  “What?” Miles spluttered out some of his beer. “No.”

  “Because having a woman in your bed makes you a King. Having a woman in your heart makes you weak, don’t you ever forget that Miles?”

  “No,” Miles swallowed nervously. “I won’t forget, Uncle.”

  Chapter 34

  Brea’s cheeks ached from smiling so much. Each morning she sprang up out of bed, eager to start the day. She was doing a job she absolutely adored and had a boyfriend she was well and truly falling for her. Just thinking about Miles made her entire body break out in excited goose bumps. He was everything she’d ever wanted in a boyfriend – he was strong, loving and loyal. Not to mention insanely hot.

  Everything in Brea’s life was going well. At the parlor, she was getting more and more clients. Lots of repeat work too, where people loved her art so much that they came back for more. To Brea, there was no higher compliment they could pay her. To have a piece of her original artwork etched into someone’s skin, it was incredible. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this happy, at least not since her parents died. This felt like the life she’d always been destined to live.

  “Aren’t you a ray of sunshine?” Gina commented with a smile as Brea bounced in through reception, the door jangling merrily behind her. Even though it was cloudy outside for Brea, it felt like a beautiful sunny day and nothing could cast a shadow over her happy thoughts.

  “I’m just happy,” Brea shrugged playfully.

  “You’re just getting laid,” Gina observed, raising an eyebrow.

  “What?” Brea’s smile promptly fell from her face. Was it that obvious? Some of her happiness started to slip away. If Gina found out about Miles, then she might tell Sylar. And so what if she did? Didn’t Brea deserve to find happiness with someone just as her brother had done? Though she might not revel in her happiness quite as audibly as he had done. And within such close proximity.

  “I’m happy for you,” Gina shrugged, smirking to herself. She raised a hand to tuck a loose strand of neon shaded hair behind her ear. As she did so, all the bangles she was wearing jangled towards her elbow sounding like a metallic waterfall. “Everyone deserves to be getting laid.”

  “Amen!” the ma
le receptionist chimed in with a cheeky grin. Brea rolled her eyes at both of them.

  “Can’t a girl just be happy for the sake of being happy?” she needed to lure them off the scent before she revealed something about her and Miles. She kind of liked keeping their relationship a secret from Sylar. It made everything feel more dangerous.

  “Not in my experience,” Gina quipped with a click of her fingers. Her long nails had been painted a dense shade of black which didn’t bode well for the day ahead. Brea had learned that Gina was prone to painting her nails to match her mood. While sunshine yellow would reflect her current mood, if Gina was feeling black she clearly didn’t share her colleague’s level of happiness. Had Sylar failed to call her? It wouldn’t surprise Brea. He hardly seemed like decent boyfriend material, even as his sister she could see that.

  “Well, I am happy just because. Can’t I just be happy about being alive and in the company of you fine people on a day as lovely as this?” Brea gestured towards the leaden clouds outside.

  “Now I know she’s lying!” the receptionist pointed at her and laughed.

  “He’s right,” Gina pursed her lips and nodded thoughtfully in agreement. “Maybe you’re not ready to tell me about lover boy just yet but you’ll crack. They all do.”

  Brea forced herself to smile confidently although inside she felt her resolve weakening. She was keen to crack. She wanted to boast about Miles and how amazing he made her feel. She’d never known anything like this before. Just seeing his name on her phone screen made her heart beat a bit faster. When they were apart, she physically ached and the ache didn’t lessen until she was back in his arms.

  Which reminded her that it had been two whole days since they’d last been together. Miles had muttered something about work and that he’d be back soon. Forty-eight hours had passed since then. Brea prayed that work really was just busy and it wasn’t anything else. Despite her best efforts, her happy feeling had failed to last until nine am. She felt dark clouds start to close in on her. The dark shade on Gina’s nails suddenly seemed more appealing.

  “You can keep your secrets,” Gina gave her a friendly smile as she approached her and patted her softly on the shoulder. “Keeps things more fun that way, doesn’t it?”

  Brea didn’t open her mouth to object. She no longer had the heart. Her dream had been shattered by the fear that maybe everything wasn’t as rosy as she believed it to be. Was she a fool for believing Miles? But why would he leave? Surely he was as happy as she was. But Brea didn’t have time to dwell on such troubling thoughts. Her first client for the day had arrived bright and early, excited for the owl design she was going to have tattooed on her ankle.

  “It’s for my late Grandmother,” she explained as Brea prepared her equipment.

  “Oh?”

  “She was always so wise,” the young woman said with a smile.

  “I see,” Brea wiped cleaned and shaved the area of skin that she’d be working on. It was a sweet, intricate design that she’d be doing of a snowy owl sat atop a branch, their dark eyes looking out at the world, the moonlight reflected in them.

  “This is such a great design,” the woman cooed appreciatively as Brea applied the transfer. “I’ve been telling all my friends about it.”

  “Let’s hope you like it when we’re all finished,” Brea gave her professional, cool smile of confident assurance. She’d learned that even when she was nervous it was in her best interest to make the client think she was always cool, calm and in control.

  “Oh, I know I’ll love it,” the girl gushed. “Your work is amazing. People have been talking about it all over town. I have no doubt that soon you’ll be so busy, you’ll won’t be able to keep up.”

  Chapter 34

  “What are we even supposed to do out here?” Colin groaned as he stretched out on the bed in his small motel room. Miles gave him a steely glance. He was tired of babysitting his two other club members. Now that he was back in Colridge all he wanted to do was be with Brea, instead he was stuck keeping an eye on Colin and Hank, making sure they didn’t get into any trouble.

  “This place blows,” Hank mouthed the words around the unlit cigar which was clenched between his teeth.

  “Well,” Miles searched his mind for something, anything for them to do. They weren’t the kind of guys who could spend an afternoon at the movies. His thoughts drifted, as they so often did, to Brea. He wasn’t about to tell them he had a girlfriend, but it wouldn’t hurt to send a bit of work her way.

  “I got some new ink while I was here.” He shrugged off the thin t-shirt he was wearing to reveal Brea’s handiwork. Both Hank and Colin leaned forward, their eyes wide with interest.

  “Hey, man, that’s pretty decent work,” Hank removed his cigar from his mouth to bestow the compliment, brandishing it around in one hand.

  “Yeah,” Colin agreed, his eyes narrowed with scrutiny. “You got that done in town?”

  “Sure did,” Miles pulled his t-shirt back on. “There’s a parlor in town with an artist named Brea who does real nice work.”

  “Is this Brea a nice piece of work too?” Hank chuckled to himself as he finally lit his cigar, a plume of dark smoke circling around him.

  “She’s…um…” Miles nervously shoved his hands into his pockets. How could he deter the guys from Brea without revealing they were dating? It was too risky to let them know about his relationship with her, as it put her in danger. He was about to let Brea become collateral damage for anything that went down between the Reapers and the Blood Pact in Colridge while he was there.

  “She likes girls,” he said with a shrug.

  “Doesn’t put me off,” Hank grinned.

  “She’s involved with a woman at the parlor. I think her name is Gina.”

  “Ah,” Hank’s interest seemed to wane. He pushed up the sleeve of his jacket to show a grisly tattoo of a pack of wolves ripping apart a man. “I’m thinking of adding to this,” he told the other two men.

  “What would you add?” Colin frowned. “An apology? That’s an awful tat, man.”

  “Speak for yourself,” Hank gave a haughty gruff. “You’re the one who has your Mama’s name on your chest.”

  “Hey,” Colin looked wounded by his friend’s words. “She died. It’s a tribute.”

  “Still makes you a pussy,” Hank shrugged. “The only women’s names you should have inked on to you are those who fucked your brains out. Plain and simple. No other women are worth remembering.”

  Miles turned away from them so that they wouldn’t see him smiling to himself. By their logic he should have Brea’s name boldly tattooed on himself. He was still grinning to himself when the two men got up and headed for the door to their motel room.

  “Where are you going?” Miles sharply turned to face them.

  “I’m in the mood for some new ink now,” Colin admitted as he pulled on his jacket.

  “Me too,” Hank agreed solemnly. “Plus is beats sitting around here all day. You coming?”

  Miles hesitated. If he went with them they’d surely see how he was with Brea and realize that they were a couple. No, as much as it pained him he needed to hang back at the motel, protect the secrecy of his relationship a little longer.

  “I’ll stay here in case Deacon calls.”

  Both Colin and Hank looked confused.

  “You know how he hates cell phones,” Miles explained with a roll of his eyes.

  “Oh, yeah, man,” Hank gave him a consolation pat on the shoulder. “The old dog really can’t learn new tricks, can he?”

  “Let us know if he hits you up,” Colin was stepping out into the gloom of the late morning. Heavy clouds hung in the sky preventing the sun from shining.

  “Will do,” Miles promised as he watched his friends leave, envying them for being able to go and see Brea, his Brea.

  Chapter 35

  Gina entered the reception area upon hearing the gentle chime of the front door. She stopped abruptly when she stopped the two heavy set
guys glancing at the designs adorning the walls. They were both over six foot in oil stained jeans, leather jackets and the one had a red bandana around his head while the other had shaggy blonde hair which hung past his shoulders and clenched a half smoked cigar between his teeth, the end still lit.

  “There’s no smoking in here,” Gina told him firmly.

  “Whatever you say, sweetheart,” the blonde dramatically removed the stub from his mouth and stepped back outside to dispose of it.

  “Is Brea working today?” the other man asked, removing his bandana and raking a hand through his jet black hair which was streaked with silver.