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 from sobbing out loud. Miles was a monster. She’d fallen in love with a beast. Trembling she scrambled back onto 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 onto 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 Highway Reapers? 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 Blood Pact. 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 Blood Pact?” 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 against 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 unsteady 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. Jealousy 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 Blood Pact members 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 Blood Pact to Colridge to meet the Reapers head on. It would be a bloodbath 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 onto the checkout 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 he'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 Blood Pact brothers by his side. There, on the streets of the small town they’d face off with thei
r nemesis, the Highway Reapers, for the final fucking time.
Thinking about Brea being with a Highway Reapers 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 on 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 cold 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 memory no matter how much time passed.
Kill them all.
He hated the Highway Reapers 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 Reapers 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 into 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 a 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? 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 Blood Pact 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 into the air, letting it billow above him 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.
“Hey,” he hurried over and grabbed the remote, plunging the screen into darkness.
“I was watching that,” Smith objected, screwing up the good half of his face in annoyance.
“Not with my sister here you’re not,” Sylar glared at him. “Show some respect.” He stormed over to the refrigerator and placed the pack of beers he was holding inside.
“She’s in her room,” Smith shrugged. “And it’s not as if she’s coming out here to keep me company.”
Sylar almost wished that his sister would get involved with Smith. It would be a vast improvement on her current choice of boyfriend. At least being with Smith wouldn’t be like signing her own death warrant.
“Beer?” Sylar asked as he leaned into the cool interior.
“Sure.” Smith straightened up and raised a hand in readiness for his beverage. “What time we ride?” he asked as Sylar handed him a bottle.
“Soon,” Sylar realized. Outside it was already getting dark, soon the Reapers would be assembling out on the streets, their bikes roaring loudly like some sort of ancient dinosaur.
“Well, I’m more than ready,” Smith grinned. “Those Reaper shit heads are about to learn that payback can be a bitch.”
But Sylar wasn’t listening. He was stalking down the hallway towards Brea’s bedroom. He swung open her flimsy door without pausing to knock. The room was shrouded in shadow, but he could see his sister sat on the bed, her knees pressed to her chest. He flicked on the light and she squinted up at him in the sudden brightness.
“Don’t just sit here in the dark,” he told her. “Come have a beer with us.”
“I’m okay, thanks,” she answered curtly, her tone as hard as flint.
“Look, Brea, I know I said you have to stay here, but it’s for your own good. You can’t be mad at me about that.”
“I’m not mad at you about that,” she replied flatly.
“Oh,” Sylar straightened in surprise. “Well then…that’s good. But seriously, don’t just sit here all alone all night.”
“Are you going out later?” she cocked her head at him as she asked the question. “Do you need to work?” she emphasised the last word in a strange way.
“Yeah,” Sylar shrugged, trying to look casual. “I’ve got to head to work in a bit. So what?”
“Nothing,” Brea narrowed her eyes at him. “Nothing at all.”
Chapter 81
“Go now,” Hank urged, looking back towards the bar. The tumbled together sounds of the rowdy occupants stole out towards them.
Miles felt taut with adrenaline, which surged through his body. If he turned his back on the Highway Reapers now, he
could never come back. He’d be an outcast for the rest of his life.
“Is she worth losing all this?” Hank asked, limply gesturing towards the bar.
“Yes,” Miles answered without missing a beat.
“Well, there you go. What are you waiting for?”
Still Miles hesitated. He stared at Hank, weighing up whether or not he could trust him.
“I’ll say I know nothing,” Hank held his hands up defensively.
“Why are you even helping me?” Miles wondered, cocking his head to the side.
Mason: Inked Reapers MC Page 69