Brea dropped down on to the faded black couch in the break room beside Gina. The couch had once been as dark as a raven's feather but over time it had dulled to a dirty gray, like overused dishwater.
"Okay, don't judge me too harshly," Brea pleaded, tentatively peeling back the sketchpad so that Gina could look at the image of the tarnished fairy.
"Oh, wow," Gina uttered as her mouth fell open.
"Do you like it?" Brea fretted.
"Like it?" Gina gasped. "I love it! It's so beautiful yet so badass! So full of sorrow and grace! We have to add this to our collection! The lines look clean and you really got a good contrast going there."
"Really?" Brea beamed with delight.
"Really," Gina smiled, still unable to take her eyes off the amazingly intricate drawing. "And more than that, I want you to tattoo it onto me."
"What?" Brea froze, wondering if Gina was being serious.
"I need that on me," Gina tapped the fairy approvingly. "It is beautiful, Brea. A real piece of art. Besides, if you tattoo it onto me, it will be practice for when people come in requesting it. Which they will be, in droves as soon as that goes up in the window."
"Really? You want me to do everyone who comes in for it?"
"Of course," Gina nodded. "After all, it's your design and no one would know it better than you."
"And you're sure you want me to tattoo it … on you?" Brea felt nervous about tattooing anybody, let alone her boss.
"I'm sure," Gina insisted. "Brea, you're a natural and you've taken to this place like a duck to water. I wouldn't be surprised if one day you end up owning your own tattoo parlor. Just don't open it up in Colridge or else you'll put me out of business."
Brea was grinning literally from ear to ear, as full of nervous excitement as a kid on Christmas morning. She actually couldn't have hoped for a better reaction from Gina over her design. And she couldn't' wait to tell Miles all about it.
Chapter 24
"She wants you to tattoo it onto her?!" Miles almost choked on the burger he was eating.
"I know, right?" Brea picked at her portion of fries, almost too excited to eat. "I couldn't believe it."
"Wow, Brea, she must really believe in your work."
They were sat in a corner booth in a McDonald's a mile outside of Colridge. Miles had insisted on taking her for a spin on his bike during her lunch break. As they sped off out of town, she felt like the heroine in some movie. It was hard to think that this was her life, when before she had to secretly cycle everywhere on her pedal bike. Now she had a handsome boyfriend to take her out for lunch. Because that's what Miles was, wasn't it? Her boyfriend. Although they'd yet to place any formal labels on their relationship.
"I just hope I don't mess it up," Brea fretted.
"Of course you won't!" Miles told her brightly. "You'll do a great job, not just on Gina but on all the other people who are going to come in wanting one of your designs."
"Can I add you to that list?" Brea cocked an eyebrow at him.
"For a fairy design?" Miles laughed lightly. "No, count me out this time. I prefer to keep my ink a bit more masculine."
He kept chewing on his burger, but Brea had little appetite for her fries.
"I think she likes my brother." Brea stated after a slight pause.
"Who?"
"Gina."
"She's met your brother?" Brea might have imagined it, but she thought she heard a slightly hurt inflection enter Miles' voice.
"Uh huh, when he came over to Colridge a few weeks back."
"Ah, I see." No, the hurt in Miles' voice was definitely there.
"Would you … " Brea trod carefully, not wanting to scare Miles off from whatever was developing between them.
"Would you want to meet my brother?" she asked casually.
"Sure."
"Really?"
"Well, he's your family, isn't he?"
"Yeah," Brea nodded. "Does that mean I get to meet your family too?"
Miles thought of the sweaty bar where all the Highway Reapers hung out. It was the closest thing he had to a family home and it was certainly no place for a girl like Brea.
"There's no one to meet," he told her gruffly.
"Oh," Brea's shoulders sank. "But … " she chewed thoughtfully on her lip, eyeing Miles nervously.
"But?"
"I'm your girlfriend, right? So if there were some family to meet, I'd get to meet them?"
"Are you asking me to be your boyfriend?" Miles asked teasingly. It was a conversation better suited to a school yard than a shabby McDonalds off the freeway.
"Don't say it like that!" Brea objected, playfully throwing a french fry at him. "I'm being serious," she added, pouting. "I really like you, Miles and I want us to be … exclusive."
"So you've not been seeing anyone else?" Miles' eyes widened with mock horror.
"Stop it!" Brea threw another fry in his direction. He narrowly dodged and it landed in the booth beside him.
"Are we exclusive or not?" she demanded, her confidence buoyed by her success with Gina later. Her life was almost perfect, the only piece of the puzzle which had yet to slide into place was cementing where she stood with Miles. She wanted to feel like he was her boyfriend, like they were starting to get serious about one another. But what if he didn't feel that way? What if he wanted to keep things casual and see other people? The thought made Brea's stomach turn.
"Well?" she prompted angrily, "don't leave a girl hanging."
"Brea, of course we are exclusive," Miles laughed, his shoulders shaking with it. "If you need to put a label on it then by all means, call me your boyfriend."
"You're mocking me."
"I'm mocking the entire institution of relationships. But I'm happy to call us whatever you like if it makes you happy."
Brea smiled contentedly and commenced eating her French fries, suddenly feeling hungrier.
Chapter 25
Sylar missed his sister. With her gone the house felt so bare and empty. Alone, it was easier to give into his darker thoughts about losing his parents. Even taking on extra jobs for the Blood Pact wasn't helping kill enough time or stem some of his loneliness. There was also talk of a member of the Highway Reapers being in Colridge and stirring up trouble, which made Sylar nervous.
"Couple of bar fights got out of hand," his friend Smith told him over a beer as they sat in the bar owned by the Blood Pact.
"How out of hand?" Sylar sought for clarity.
"Some stitches needed here and there, some bruised ribs." Smith shrugged casually and drank deeply from his bottle of beer. He was no stranger to injuries himself. The left side of his face was mottled with the aging scar of a severe burn wound when a member of the Reapers had thrown acid on his face. The skin still appeared melted and tender though all of the hair had managed to grow back on his scalp which helped him resemble his former self.
"You think the Reapers are looking to start a turf war?" that was the last thing Sylar wanted. If a turf war broke out, he'd have to go and get Brea out of there. And of course, she'd resist and want to know the truth. But she still thought he worked out in some factory, how would she feel if she knew what he really did?
"Maybe," Smith shrugged again. He always maintained a level of indifference when it came to pack business. That was until someone either insulted him or one of his friends. Then he morphed into a ball of blind rage. He'd killed men in the past with nothing more than a tooth pick. Smith was like a dangerous, exotic pet. Treat him nice and he'll be loyal and protective, abuse him and he'll devour you in a second. Sylar knew that Smith was someone best kept on his side.
"My sister is over there," Sylar admitted sadly. "Working at some tattoo parlor in Colridge."
"Oh?" Smith's eyebrows raised with interest. He'd only seen Brea twice during the years he'd been friends with Sylar, but both times his eyes had all but popped out of his head and he'd asked after her for months afterwards.
"She's strictly off limits," Sylar growled. It was a warning he'd given to all his Blood Pact brethren and they respected it. When it came to family members dating was always off limits unless strictly allowed by the relative member of the pack. And Sylar wasn't about to let a dangerous member of his motorcycle gang take his sister out. He'd endeavored for years to keep her pure of all the dark dealings which went on in town.