Miles (Highway Reapers MC): Inked Hearts

by West, Heather

  He splashed his face with cold water before stepping back into the room.

  “Boys, grab your coats,” he ordered with a devilish grin. “We’re going out.”

  “About time!” Hank clapped his hands together with glee and was already approaching the door. Colin stood up slower, not quite as enthusiastic as his friend.

  “Out?” Colin shot Miles a dubious glance.

  “Just to a bar down the street,” Miles shrugged. A bar he’d already checked out. It seemed safe enough there. He couldn’t see a sign of any Reaper presence. “I figured we need to get out and let off some steam.”

  “Damn straight,” Hank was opening the door and storming towards his motorcycle.

  “Keep an eye on him,” Colin urged as he followed after him. “You don’t want him letting off too much steam.”

  Chapter 41

  Brea released her bag from her shoulders and let it drop to the floor of the den. Outside, the cab she’d arrived in was pulling away, disappearing down the street. Sylar hadn’t even responded to her message. Brea tried to ignore his rudeness but it did sting. She knew he was home, his bike was outside but the house was silent. No welcome wagon had been rolled out for her.

  “Sylar!” she called his name so loudly that it bounced off the thin walls of the house. After a few seconds a distant door opened and her brother appeared. He was naked except for a towel which he’d hastily wrapped around himself. His hair was damp and dripped down his back.

  Brea raised a hand to protective her eyes but then lowered it. She gaped at the criss-cross of scars which were etched over her brother’s lean torso. Circular scars that looked like cigar stubs patterned his chest. Though all the wounds looked old, they were painful to look at.

  “Jesus!” Brea exclaimed, gesturing towards him. “Where the hell did you get all those scars, Sylar?”

  He scowled at her before storming back towards the bathroom. “Just let me dry off,” he shouted, not bothering to look back.

  Troubled Brea wandered through the family open plan living area. The house smelt mustier than usual in her absence. Old pizza boxes were piled up on the kitchen counter and the sink was overflowing with dirty plates. Brea made a mental note to thoroughly clean the pig sty that her brother developed before she left.

  “It wouldn’t kill you to vacuum once in a while,” Brea informed her brother tersely as he re-emerged from the bathroom in loose fitting sweat pants, pulling on a white t-shirt.

  “I’ve been busy,” he told her gruffly.

  “Busy like you were when you came to visit me?” Brea raised her eyebrows at him. Try as she might she knew she’d never be able to erase the sound of her brother having sex from her mind.

  “Jeez, Brea, did you just come here to fight?” Sylar seemed deflated by her presence. He pushed past her to drop on the sofa and reach for the TV remote.

  “No,” Brea softened her tone and went to sit beside him. “I came here because…because I miss you. And I feel like when you were in Colridge we didn’t exactly take the time to catch up with each other.”

  She watched Sylar’s jaw tighten a degree. He clearly agreed with her though she knew his pride would never let him say it.

  “So how have you been?” Brea asked brightly, trying to force him to open up. “How’s work?”

  “How’s work?” Sylar repeated with a sneer. “Come on, Brea. If you want to catch up that’s fine but at least be real with me. You know I never talk about work.”

  Brea looked sadly at her hands.

  “My job is going really well,” she informed him. “People love my work and I’ve been getting repeat business and really generous tips.”

  “That’s good,” Sylar turned off the TV and shifted his weight so that he was facing her. “I’m sorry for being a dick, Brea. I’m really glad that you’re enjoying your job.” He patted her knee before getting up and making his way over towards the kitchen.

  “Want a beer?” he slung the question over his shoulder.

  “Sure,” Brea gave a non-committal shrug. Sylar returned with two cooled bottles and handed one to her after he’d uncapped it.

  “Colridge seems a nice enough place,” he offered before taking a deep, long drink from his bottle.

  “It is nice,” Brea agreed with an enthusiastic nod. “I like it there.”

  “Was Gina okay after I…left?” he queried carefully.

  “Yeah,” Brea sipped at her beer. “I mean, she was probably a bit pissed, I don’t know. She called you dangerous.”

  This made Sylar straighten. He stared at Brea, his eyes wide.

  “She did? Why?”

  Brea shrugged. “I don’t know, bitter about you leaving maybe.”

  “Was that all she said, that she thinks I’m dangerous?”

  “Yep, that’s it.”

  Sylar leaned back against the sofa, looking troubled.

  Chapter 42

  Miles wasn’t drinking. He dutifully bought each round at the bar and watched his friends down countless shots and bottles of beer but he ensured that he remained stone cold sober. A part of him was ready to spring into action if anything kicked off.

  But to his surprise the night was going by without any real hitch. Hank and Colin were getting merry and trying to chat up any girls who were within their radius. The music from the juke box was set to some pretty decent rock and Miles actually started to relax. But then he stiffened, remembering that Brea was out of town. He missed her more than he cared to admit.

  Hank was getting cozy with a hard faced brunette who wore too much make up. She was perched up on his knee, letting him grope up and down her legs. No doubt Hank would be fixing to take her back to the motel with them. A busty blonde was sitting next to Colin, hanging on his every word. It never failed to surprise Miles how women would flock to gang members. They were drawn to the danger he supposed. Stupid, he thought.

  As he lingered by the bar he worked tirelessly to control a drunken woman’s advances. He didn’t have eyes for any of them, not matter how much they purred in his ear or gazed at him with their “fuck-me” eyes.

  They’d been out for almost three hours when Hank staggered over, one arm draped around his soon to be conquest.

  “We’re heading back to the motel,” he informed Miles, slurring his words.

  “Okay, sure,” Miles nodded in approval.

  “You coming?” a mischievous light shone out from Hank’s gaze.

  “No, I’ll hang back here a while longer,” Miles leaned against the bar, emphasizing how he had no intention of going back just yet.

  “You sure?” the brunette batted her eyelashes at him. “Could be fun to add one more.”

  Hank laughed and slapped her on the ass. “Me and Miles ain’t becoming tunnel buddies yet, honey. Unless you wanna ride her both ways with me?”

  Miles’ younger self would have accepted such an offer. He’d go back to the motel with Hank and place the brunette on all fours between them. They’d toss a coin to see who got heads and who got tails.

  “I’ll pass,” Miles gave them a tight smile. “But thanks.”

  “Your loss, buddy,” Hank slapped him on the shoulder before walking out with his prize under his arm. Colin followed shortly after, stumbling out the door towards the parking lot. Miles decided to take his time before heading back to the motel himself, afraid of what sight might await him if he headed back too soon.

  Chapter 11

  “So I’ve got a boyfriend,” Brea blurted out after her second bottle of beer. Sylar had actually laughed a couple of times while she’d been there. The atmosphere between them felt relaxed and comfortable, or maybe that was just the beer she’d been drinking. But suddenly it felt extremely important to be honest with Sylar about Miles.

  “A boyfriend?” Sylar lowered his bottle of beer which had been en route to his lips.

  “Uh huh,” Brea nodded a little too quickly, making herself feel dizzy. “His name is Miles.”

  “Miles,” Sylar mouthed th
e name as though it left a bad taste in his mouth. “What does this Miles do?”

  Brea opened her mouth to respond and then snapped it shut. She wasn’t exactly sure of what Miles did.

  “He’s a businessman,” she said after a pause.

  “Hmm,” Sylar seemed unconvinced as he had a swig of beer.

  “He makes me very happy,” Brea hiccupped. “He’s a…a good guy.”

  “I’m sure he’s swell,” Sylar declared bitterly.

  “Why aren’t you happy for me?” Brea demanded contritely, feeling hurt by her brother’s lack of enthusiasm.

  “Brea,” he sighed as he said her name. “You’ve been in Colridge for what? A month? And you’re already involved with some guy. You don’t want to be rushing in to anything. You’re young.”

  “So what? You can fuck someone but I can’t!” Brea raged, staggering up to her feet.

  “He better not be fucking you,” Sylar also stood up, firmly gripping her shoulders. “You best be conducting yourself like a lady, Brea!”

  “I am!” she insisted, shrugging him off. “And Miles cares about me! He doesn’t just leave me in the morning. He sticks around.”

  If shame was a color, she saw it on her brothers face right at that moment.

  “He’s not like you,” she added coldly, digging that dagger deeper into her brothers heart.

  “Fine,” Sylar dropped back on to the sofa. “I’m a dick and this guy Miles is a saint, whatever. You got a picture of him?”

  “Hmm? Yeah,” Brea reached for her cell phone but in her drunken state she struggled to work it.

  “Hang on,” she forced herself to focus really hand on scrolling through the menu.

  “There’s one here somewhere…”

  “Am I going to meet this Miles guy?” Sylar wondered. He didn’t sound thrilled at the idea.

  “Uh huh,” Brea nodded, still fixated on her phone. She just knew that Sylar and Miles would hit it off. After all they both liked motorcycles.

  She only had the one picture of Miles on her phone. She’d taken it one morning when they were in bed together and the sunlight coming through the window had hit his face in such a way that it made him look perfect and she felt compelled to capture the moment forever.

  “Here,” she handed the phone over to her brother. “That’s Miles.”

  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.