Brea nodded.
“Good,” Sylar reached forward and ruffled her hair the way he used to do when they were kids. Brea couldn’t help but smile fondly at the gesture.
“Sit tight and I’ll be back before you know it.”
Sat once again on her bed with her back against the wall, Brea listened to her brother’s departing footsteps, followed by the click of the front door closing and shortly after that the roar of his motorcycle’s engine as he pulled out of the driveway. Sighing deeply, she tilted her head towards the ceiling. She’d lost count of how many hours she’d lie in her bed and look up at the cracks in the paint, day dreaming about how they might actually be some sort of secret map to a better life. Brea had been so unhappy in her home after her parent’s died. And finally she’d got out, found somewhere she could truly be herself only to have it all taken from her; to once again be back where she started. A solitary tear slid down her cheek and dropped onto her faded duvet. Brea sniffed and wiped at her face, willing herself to be strong. But she needed Miles more than ever and he wasn’t there. Some strange woman had answered his phone and now Brea doubted if he even loved her anymore.
Chapter 75
Miles wasted no time leaving the bar. He beat a swift retreat through the crowd, ignoring the ache in his head from his fresh stitches. Once he was out on the parking lot, the cool air of the late afternoon hit him like a brick wall. The pain killers in his system made him feel woozy and almost drunk. Slowing he reached for the exterior wall of the bar to steady himself.
“Come on, hold it together,” he urged himself. He fumbled for his cell phone and dialled Brea’s number before pulling it up to his good ear. Inhaling sharply he listened to each elongated ring and prayed that she’d pick up.
Chapter 76
Brea jumped in surprise as her cell phone started ringing. Cautiously she removed it from her pocket and glanced at the number flashing up on the screen.
Miles.
Her whole body tumbled off the bed like an uncoiled spring as she hastily closed her bedroom door, being careful not to make too much noise and attract Smith’s attention. She could picture him sat on the sofa down the hall, pretending to watch television when he was actually listening out for her like some sort of prison warden.
For a moment Brea didn’t know whether to take the call. Her finger lingered over the green button as she bit her lip and battled with indecision. Finally her heart won out over her head and she accepted.
“Hi,” she hoped that her voice sounded as brittle and hurt as she felt.
“Hey,” Miles sounded huskier than usual. And tired. What was going on with him lately? A pang of fear streaked through Brea as she considered that maybe her brother was right about him.
“Where are you?” he croaked the question at her.
“I should ask you the same thing!” Brea retorted contritely, hot tears burning in her eyes. “I called you earlier and some…some woman answered!”
“She was just…a friend,” Miles replied vaguely. “I’m sorry if she was rude to you. Where are you?”
“I’m at home.”
“In your apartment?” Miles sounded alarmed by this.
“No, home-home. With my brother and his friend.”
“Why are you there?”
Brea shrugged to herself. “He came to pick me up earlier, insisting I needed to get out of Colridge.”
She heard Miles swallow nervously on the other end of the line.
“A bar in Colridge got turned over last night,” she was shaking as she spoke, hoping against hope that Sylar was wrong. “Did you have anything to do with that?”
“Brea - ”
“Don’t even think about lying to me!”
“Yes,” Miles sighed in defeat. “I was there. I was involved.”
Brea clamped a hand over her mouth to stop herself sobbing loudly. Miles was a monster. She’d fallen in love with a beast. Trembling she scrambled back on to her bed needing to be close to the familiar duvet of her childhood.
“Are you part of some…some gang?” she could barely ask the question.
“Yes,” Miles admitted softly. “But Brea, it’s not like you think.”
“So you don’t go around cruelly beating on people? You don’t throw acid over a stranger’s face?”
“No, to the latter,” Miles’ voice sounded fragile as though it might break. “Brea, I’ve done some stuff I’m not proud of, God knows. I made some really bad choices when I was younger. But my Uncle scooped me up when I had nothing and no one. When my Mom abandoned me, I didn’t have a big brother to step in and take care of me.”
“You’re making excuses,” Brea seethed. “And just last night you were making bad choices. You beat up innocent people, Miles! How could you!”
“Brea, I’m sorry,” Miles said, dejected. “I’m in too deep with this… lifestyle. And I want out. Truly I do. Even before I met you I wanted out but you’ve given me something bigger to hope for. You’ve shown me the kind of life I really want.”
Brea was softly crying. She felt like her world was tumbling around her like a flimsy house of cards.
“My brother was right about you,” she told him tearfully. “You need to stay the hell away from me.”
“Your brother?” Miles sounded angry now. “He’s the one who told you I run with the Blood Gang? I bet he failed to tell you how he knew that.”
“What?” Brea wiped her eyes with the back of her sleeve. “What do you mean?”
“Your brother rides with a rival gang, Brea. He’s part of the fucking Reapers. I imagine running dirty little errands for them was a way to help him make decent money when you guys were younger. I heard about the guy who got hit with acid, I had nothing to do with that.”
“The Reapers?” Brea thought of Sylar’s motorcycle, of how he worked long nights and came back with mysterious injuries. It all made sense and she felt foolish for not having seen it before. She felt like she was drowning in all the lies she was being told by the men who were supposed to love her.
“Tonight your brother is going to return to Colridge to fight with my pack because now we are at war. And I never wanted you to get caught up in this, Brea. You have to know that.”
“My brother,” Brea was shaking her head, not wanting to believe it.
“You need to get out of the house,” Miles urged her. “I’ll come and get you. Together we will run away from all of this. Brea, for you I’d give it all up. Let’s just get on my bike and ride until we run out of gas.”
“I can’t,” Brea could barely talk through her waterfall of tears. “I can’t leave the house. My brother’s friend is keeping an eye on me. I’m supposed to stay here.”
“My pack knows about your brother,” Miles explained grimly. “If things don’t go well tonight they’ll come to your home seeking revenge. You’re not safe there.”
Brea blinked through her tears. In her heart, she knew that her home hadn’t been safe since her parents died. The once vibrant room had dulled, taking with it all its magic and Brea’s childhood dreams.
“I can try and sneak out,” she looked uncertainly at her window. But first she wanted to talk some sense into Sylar, to stop him from going to war with the rival gang. If things went badly that night, she could risk losing both Sylar and Miles and that was just too awful to even contemplate.
“I need some time,” Brea explained. “If you’re right about my brother then I have to try and stop him.”
“I’m coming for you,” Miles promised.
Chapter 77
Miles hung up the call and gazed in stunned disbelief at his cell phone. Brea knew about the guy who’d been burned with acid by his pack members. If it was her brother’s friend who’d been attacked, as Miles suspected, then it meant that Brea’s brother had an axe to grind and a score to settle.
“Enjoying the fresh air?” Hank stormed out through the door of the bar, already uneasy on his feet.
Miles shot his parked motorcycle a longing
glance. If only he’d been swifter he could already be on the road and en route to Brea. But she’d asked for time and he knew he had to give that to her, even if it was the one thing he'd been running out of.
“What time is everyone making their move?” Miles nodded towards the packed out bar behind them.
“Soon,” Hank raised his eyebrows and leaned back against the wall to steady himself. “Everyone in there is fixing for a fight. Things are going to get real ugly in Colridge.”
“Yeah.”
“Your girl still there?”
“No.” Miles felt his shoulders slump. He should have been the one to get her out, to keep her safe. Jealously burned through him when he thought of her brother trying to act the part of her saviour.
“That’s good,” Hank patted Miles on the back and smiled. “Best keep her out of it.”
“Her brother pulled her out of Colridge.” Miles knew that Hank couldn’t truly be trusted, but the words were tumbling out of his mouth before he could even stop them. He was still mildly sedated and struggling to keep his thoughts in his head where they belonged.
“He did?” Hank became alert with interest, his previous drunkenness seemingly forgotten.
“Yeah,” Miles kicked at a stone and watched it skitter across the parking lot towards the row of bikes parked up side by side like children, patiently waiting in a tidy line.
“Do you?” Miles sighed, wondering if Hank had been the one to pour acid on that poor Blood Pact member’s face. “A while back, someone poured acid on a Reapers face, scarred him up real good.”
“I remember,” Hank’s expression was surprisingly grim. “What makes you bring that up?”
“I think that Br- my girl’s brother knows the guy.”
“Shit,” Hank gave a low, ominous whistle. “If someone had done that to my friend, I’d be looking to take lives tonight.”
“You think?”
“Explains why he got his little sister the hell out of Colridge.”
Miles tried to swallow past the lump, which had formed in his throat. Hank was saying everything that Miles feared. Brea’s brother was surely going to lead the Reapers to Colridge to meet the Blood Gang head on. It would be a blood bath and only one pack would be left standing at the end of it all.
“I guess tonight we settle things between our packs once and for all,” Hank shrugged casually as though he didn’t care whether he lived or died.
“Yeah,” Miles agreed with a tense sigh, “I guess we do.”
Chapter 78
Sylar dropped the six pack of bottled beer on to the check out counter and wrestled his twenty dollar bill from his pocket. The store was quiet. Almost all of the aisles were empty as Sylar swiftly made his way to the fridge section for his beer. His nerves jangled inside him like loose change. He knew what was coming, what was expected of him.
He’d sent word to his pack about the movements in Colridge, about what he knew regarding Brea’s boyfriend. They were understandably furious and the orders the'd gotten were simple –
Kill them all.
Later, under the cover of darkness, he’d ride back to Colridge with both Smith and all his Reaper brothers by his side. There, on the streets of the small town they’d face off with their nemesis, the Blood Pact, for the final fucking time.
Thinking about Brea being with a Blood Pact member, left a bad taste in Sylar’s mouth which he knew no amount of beer would be able to wash away. His little sister had been sleeping with the enemy, literally. He’d always thought she was such a good girl, so quiet and timid, yet the moment he’d given her an inch of freedom she’d run with it and taken a mile.
Beers in hand, Sylar strode out to the parking lot towards his motorcycle. His heart was already racing as he tried to visualize what would happen later. He’d have to remember to take a crowbar with him, maybe a hammer. Who knew what weapon Smith would have at hand. He probably had a vat of acid stored somewhere specifically for this occasion.
Sylar secured his beer to the back of his bike and swung himself into his seat. Running a hand down his face he tried to block out the memories from that awful night when Smith had been attacked. How his friend had pierced the indifferent night with his high pitched screams. His skin had all but completely melted away. The air smelt putrid like cooked flesh. It was a smell that would never truly be gone from Sylar’s airwaves no matter how much time passed.
Kill them all.
He hated the Blood Gang as much as he hated the drunk driver who’d killed his parents. All of his anger and frustration, over the hand life had dealt him, had been directed towards the rival gang, growing stronger every year. And now, all that hate was about to be released. Sylar was almost excited at the prospect of finally experiencing such a release, but he was also fearful. If his orders had been to kill them all, surely the The Blood Gang had received a similar directive. And in such a battle there could only be one victor. What if all Sylar achieved was robbing Brea of both her brother and her lover?
Clenching his jaw, he kicked his bike to life and roared off in to the night.
Chapter 79
Miles had a plan. It was a flimsy one he had to admit, but it was all he had. It came to him as he stood outside the bar talking with Hank. He thought of Brea held under lock and key by her brother. Miles thought that if given the chance, couldn’t he talk to her brother, come to some sort of truce. After all, they had shared common ground for their love of Brea; they both wanted what was best for her.
“What if I could stop all this?” Miles wondered aloud. Hank cocked his head at him in confusion.
“Stop the fight tonight?”
“Yeah.”
“You can’t stop it,” Hank shook his head wistfully.
“Why not?”
“You think this is all about you? and your girl? and her brother? but it’s not. This is bigger than us, Miles, it always has been. Old grudges go deep, really deep. You ever wondered why Deacon hates the Reapers like he does or why that little punk got acid thrown all over him? Things between the two gangs will never, ever be resolved.”
Miles was surprised by Hank’s insight but couldn’t disagree with him. He was right – the two gangs were hardly going to shake hands and let bygones be bygones. The hate between the two factions would always burn poker hot, no matter what happened.
“Maybe so, but if I could at least stop tonight - ”
“Tonight is already in motion,” Hank interjected. “To stop it now would be like standing in front of a freight train. All that will happen is that you’ll get yourself killed.”
“I fear that we are all just sleep walking to our deaths,” Miles looked up at the darkening sky. He was running out of time.
“Isn’t everyone?” Hank shrugged and raked a hand through his golden hair. “If we don’t die this night we’ll die another one. As is the predicament of being alive.”
“But don’t you want your death to mean something?”
“Death never means anything,” Hank declared, his gaze hardening. “It is always just an end. There is no meaning in that.”
Miles was starting to feel desperate. He couldn’t let the streets of Colridge run red with blood, even if the feud was bigger than him.
“I can’t just stand by and let everyone get hurt.”
“The way I see it, you got two choices,” Hank reached into his pocket for a pack of cigarettes. He plucked one out and placed it between his fingers, elegantly guiding it up to his lips.
“You can either fight with us tonight,” he lit the cigarette and took a deep drag on it, smiling in satisfaction.
“Or?” Miles prompted him for his second choice.
“Or, you can go get your girl and get the hell out of town. Like I suggested earlier. Yet here you still remain.”
“She won’t leave without her brother,” Miles sighed, “especially now she knows that he’s a part of all this.”
“Quite the predicament,” Hank blew smoke in to the air, letting it billow above hi
m like a dark cloud.
“I have to make her leave with me, don’t I?” Miles looked desperately at his pack mate, yearning for some direction.
“Yes, you do,” Hank nodded solemnly. “And you need to do it fast because if Deacon catches wind that you’re even thinking of leaving tonight then you’re already a dead man.”
Chapter 80
Sylar kicked open the unlocked front door and quickly located Smith, who was stretched out across the sofa watching some porn. Two naked women with epic breasts were fondling each other as they kissed with excessive amounts of tongue.
Miles (Highway Reapers MC): Inked Hearts Page 20
