It took him eight rings to answer. When he did so, he sounded groggy and confused.
"Sylar!" Brea cried his name shrilly. "Where the hell are you?"
"Home," came the croaked reply.
"Home?" Brea repeated in shock. How could her brother be at home? He'd been having sex in her apartment just a few hours ago.
"I didn't want to wake you," Sylar noted apologetically. "So I crept out first thing."
"Did you at least have the courtesy to say goodbye to Gina?" Brea demanded indignantly, one hand perched on her slender hip.
"Urgh," Sylar groaned at the question.
"I'll take that as a no," Brea rolled her eyes in annoyance. "She's my boss Sylar, you could at least treat her with a bit of respect."
"I gave her a good time, didn't I?" Sylar laughed.
"I don't like this version of you," Brea noted, her voice hardening. "I prefer the caring Sylar, the good brother who looks out for me and doesn't treat women like objects."
"Yeah, well you were pretty quick to get away from him," Sylar raged.
Brea crumpled, clutching at the phone. The last thing she wanted to do was get into an argument with Sylar. When it came to family, he was all she had.
"I just mean that I get walking out on Gina, but you could have said goodbye to me."
"Yeah," Sylar's husky voice agreed gently. "I should have. Brea, I'm sorry."
"And last night all I wanted to do was hang out together and you were so … preoccupied."
"I've just got a lot on my mind."
Brea loathed how she currently felt like the needy younger sibling, desperate for her cool brother to pay attention to her. But she was used to being the center of his world. He was always telling her that everything he did was for her, for her well-being. Was that no longer true?
"Like work stuff?" Brea wondered quietly.
"Yeah. Things at work are … not good."
"You'll come see me again soon, though, right?" Brea asked hopefully.
"Of course," Sylar agreed warmly. "It'd take an army to keep me away from my little sister."
Chapter 30
Sylar sighed as he hung up the call and gazed up at the cracked ceiling in his bedroom. His body ached from all the alcohol he'd consumed and the beatings he'd dished out in a few of the seedier bars around Colridge. When he asked questions, he rarely used words.
There was definitely a member of the Highway Reapers in Colridge. He'd been seen around, not much but enough. His mere presence there let Sylar know that a turf war was looming. The nerves in his body pulsed in anticipation for what was to come. Blood would surely be spilled.
He thought of the man's jaw he'd broken just that night when he refused to answer him. Wearing brass knuckles, Sylar had smacked the guy hard and clean, just the one good solid punch. He'd sent him spluttering against the bar, blood gushing out of his mouth like a macabre fountain. Wincing he clutched at his jaw, although barely able to speak he sung like a canary.
The next time Sylar visited Colridge he was going to take Smith with him. If they could weed out the intruder in time, he could save the Blood Pact a lot of time and energy. But the guy was smart, he was keeping a low profile and remaining off the grid. But when Sylar finds him, he'd be sure to send the Reapers a message. He remembered all too vividly how hospitable they'd been to him and Smith when they'd unknowingly shown up on their territory. He'd be sure to repay them in kind.
Brooding, Sylar sat up pressing a hand to his throbbing temple. His knuckles were dark with the promise of bruising, but he didn't care. He was close to finding the intruder. Close to wiping them out and gaining respect within the Blood Pact. But this was about more than respect, it was about getting revenge for Smith. For too long he'd watched his friend wear the ugly mask they'd cruelly given him.
Deciding he'd already thought it through enough Sylar reached for his cell phone and called up Smith. For a while it just rang and he feared he might have to call back later.
"Yeah?" Smith eventually picked up, sounding a bit breathless. Sylar suppressed a smile. His friend was probably in the middle of having sex with some girl he'd picked up in a bar. Typical Smith.
"Hey, man, it's me."
"Oh, hey," the tension in Smith's voice lifted. Sylar heard two muffled female voices in the background.
"Did I disturb you?" Sylar asked teasingly.
"You could say that," Smith laughed. "Nothing I can't pick up again later, though. What's up?"
"There's a guy in Colridge."
"So I was right?" Smith gloated.
"You were right."
"So what now?"
Sylar thoughtfully stroked his chin. "You tell me."
"I say we go and pay him a visit," Smith's voice dropped so that it was menacingly low. "We kick him the hell out of town and send the Highway Reapers a clear message."
"That's what I was thinking," Sylar nodded to himself.
"A display of strength," Smith insisted brightly. "And I've got just the thing to do it."
Chapter 31
"I'm so sorry," Gina was upon Brea the moment she walked through the door, placing her hands on the younger woman's shoulders and gazing apologetically into her eyes.
"I just got so caught up with your brother last night and - "
"It's okay," Brea smiled kindly at her boss and pulled her hands from her shoulders. "You don't need to apologize."
"But I do!" Gina insisted. "We were going at it all night! You must have heard us!"
The guy behind the reception counter snickered appreciatively.
"I think the whole neighborhood heard you," Brea admitted dryly.
"Oh God," Gina clamped her hand to her chest. She was wearing a low cut top which revealed several hickeys which blossomed up her chest and towards her neck. Brea glanced away, her cheeks burning as if she'd walked in on some intimate moment between Gina and her brother.
"Brea, I'm sorry. I'm not normally like that. Sylar is just so dangerous and sexy and - "
Brea raised her hands, interrupting her.
"And he's my brother," she stated bluntly, "so less talk about how sexy he is, please."
"But he is," Gina followed Brea through reception towards the staff room. "And he's dangerous."
Brea shrugged. "Oooh, he is so sexy and dangerous, I get it. But that doesn't mean I need to hear it."
"Brea," Gina was standing in the doorway, her whole demeanor changed. Her expression was soft yet stern. "I noticed a tattoo on your brother."
"I bet you noticed a lot of tattoos on my brother," Brea joked. "Again, nothing I need to know about."
"Actually, this one you might."
"No." Brea was holding her hands up again, her voice forceful. "Whatever it is, don't tell me. Because if you tell me you're invading my brother's privacy and I don't like that. If he needs to tell me something, he will. Okay?"
Gina nodded solemnly and backed out of the room. "Okay."
"Is this the part where you ask me when he's coming back to town?" Brea teased, smiling lightly.
"No," Gina pursed her lips. "I had a great time with Sylar, don't get me wrong. And he's an amazing guy," a flush crept over Gina's face as she remembered the previous night. "But he is dangerous, Brea," she concluded flatly. "If he comes back here, I fear he'll be bringing trouble."
"Trouble?" Brea laughed at the accusation. Sylar wasn't a bringer of trouble. He was the kind of guy who spent his time avoiding it, wasn't he? He didn't stir things up, he wasn't like that. For years, he'd had Brea's back, keeping them both safe. Gina had just read him wrong or was bitter about him walking out on her first thing.
"Yeah, Sylar is nothing but trouble," she joked as she strolled out of the room to greet her first client of the day.
Chapter 32
Gina went around to reception in the tattoo parlor, scrutinizing all the designs on the walls.
"Everything okay?" Colin, the slim receptionist asked, furrowing his brow with mild concern.
"Everything is fine," Gina told him unconvincingly, her eyes still scanning the walls.
"Seriously, Gina, what's up?"
"You know much about gang tattoos?" Gina came and leaned heavily against the reception desk which caused her ample bosom to bunch up towards her neck. Colin politely kept his gaze at eye level.