"Gang tats?" Colin shook his head slowly. "Not really."
"We don't do them here," Gina told him sharply. "Gang tattoos just breed trouble. You agree to the wrong commission and you get a brick thrown through your window. Or worse."
"Can it really be that bad?" Colin sounded shocked and a little scared.
"Oh yeah," Gina nodded gravely. "I've had to move twice before because of gang crap."
"But Colridge isn't like that," Colin stated with false confidence. He looked pleadingly into Gina's eyes, urging her to back him up.
"I didn't think it was," she admitted. "But I'm starting to fear I might be wrong."
"What makes you think that?" Colin asked, alarmed. Gina glanced beyond him, checking the rest of the tattoo parlor and ensuring that they were alone.
"So last night I hooked up with a guy with a gang tattoo. There was a skull dripping blood on his inner left wrist which I know means he belongs to the Blood Pact."
"Last night?" Colin's eyes widened with surprise. "You mean Brea's brother?"
"Wow, gossip sure travels fast here," Gina noted dryly.
"Does Brea know?"
"No." Gina straightened and readjusted the low cut top she was wearing. "And I intend to keep it that way. Brea is a sweet girl, I reckon she's got no idea of the amount of trouble her brother gets into or the dangerous company he keeps."
"Aren't you going to tell her?"
"No," Gina sighed, aware that perhaps she should just be honest with her new friend and employee. "At least not yet. If her brother starts stirring up trouble in town, then I'll talk to her. Until then I'll let sleeping dogs lie."
"So you think the Blood Pact are in town?" Colin looked pale. Like most people in Colridge, he'd heard horror stories about the Blood Pact and their dark antics.
"I don't think so," Gina nervously fingered the ornate necklace she was wearing which hung down between her breasts like a sexy pendulum. "But I think someone else is. Let's start bringing the shutters in here down at night, okay?"
"Okay."
"And I'm going to draw up a list of images that are forbidden in here. There's no way I'm getting caught up in gang politics."
"Okay, sure," Collin was nodding frantically as he nervously gripped the edge of the reception desk.
"Don't worry," Gina urged him, her face brightening with a smile. "At least not yet."
Chapter 33
Miles pulled up outside his Uncle Deacon's bar. The sun was bright overhead and he squinted against it as he parked his bike and sauntered inside. The darkness within the bar was in stark contrast to the bright light outside. It took a moment for Miles' eyes to adjust. Once he spotted where the weathered old man was sitting he walked over, his boots thumping against the chipped wooden floor.
"Hey, Uncle Deacon," Miles pulled down the sunglasses he'd been wearing on the table beside him as he slid into a vacant chair opposite the old man.
"Thanks for coming by so quick," Deacon gave a brisk nod of gratitude.
"No problem," Miles stretched out his long legs and leaned back in his chair. "So to what do I owe the pleasure? Am I being brought back to the bosom of the brood?"
"Always such a joker," Deacon chided his young nephew. "How are things in Colridge?"
"Good," Miles replied ambiguously. He didn't want his Uncle to know about Brea. Not yet. It might influence the old man's decision to have him leave town sooner than he should. Deacon could be cruel like that, it was a by-product of being old and bitter.
"How do you feel about staying out there a little longer?" Deacon wondered tentatively. Miles raised his eyebrows, trying not to look too happy, only surprised. He'd figured that in being called back to the bar his time in Colridge might be over. He had a whole speech planned about why he needed to stay there, how there was still much he could learn by being in the town.
"A bit longer?"
"Say a month or so," Deacon shrugged.
"I … um, I can do that."
Deacon raised his arm and two beers promptly arrived at the table.
"So the extended stay?" Miles wondered as he raised the cool bottle to his lips.
"There's talk that a member of the Blood Pact has been there."
"Oh?"
"A high up member, someone you don't want to mess with."
"What does that mean?" the cool amber liquid slid down the back of Miles' throat but it tasted bitter. He knew all too well what it meant for a senior member of a pack to show up in a town. It meant trouble.
"Means they know you are there," Deacon narrowed his eyes angrily. "Means they are looking to shake things up a bit, scare you out of town."
"Huh." Miles instantly thought of Brea. If someone was looking to scare him, she was an obvious target. His entire body tensed with the desire to protect her.
"That's why you need to stay there," Deacon explained. "Lure them out into the light like the cockroaches they are."
"And then squash them?"
"Exactly," Deacon clasped his hands over his ample chest, a look of smug satisfaction on his withered face.
"And I'm supposed to do that alone?" Miles titled his head at his Uncle. If a load of Blood Pact members showed up in Colridge, he'd hardly be a force to be reckoned with standing alone against them.
"I'll send some more boys back with you," Deacon offered. "Put them up in that motel with you."
Miles felt his shoulders sag. With other Highway Reapers members around it would be harder to have time with Brea. It also increased the risk of their relationship being discovered.
"I'm not saying we want trouble," Deacon clarified, a cruel smile pulling on his lips. "But we want Colridge. It's time for us to branch out a little."
"I couldn't agree more," Miles nodded. He was as keen as his Uncle to see the Highway Reapers thrive. More territories meant more members and strength in numbers.
"Handle any Blood Pact members you find by any means you deem necessary," Deacon ordered. "I'll inform the guys heading out with you to take their cue from you. You okay with that?"
Miles gave a stiff nod. He didn't need to ask what means his Uncle was suggesting. He knew that if he needed to take a life no one would judge him for it. In fact murder only worked to strengthen the Highway Reapers' formidable reputation. Miles already had the blood of several men on his hands and he wasn't keen to add to that stain.
"Hopefully it won't come to any bloodshed."
"Where's the fun in that?" Deacon asked wickedly. "I'm not sending you out there to make friends, Miles. Make no mistake about that. We're heading for war, these are dark times. I need to know that when the time comes, I can count on you."
"You can count on me," Miles promised. "We're family."
"Good lad," Deacon leaned forward and patted his nephew's outstretched hand. "Blood is thicker than water, don't you ever go forgetting that. The Highway Reapers gang was formed on the strength of brotherhood and loyalty."
"I know, Uncle."
"But you need to keep yourself out of trouble with the ladies," Deacon warned. "Don't forget why I sent you to Colridge in the first place."
Miles could barely recall his tryst before leaving for Colridge. Shame burned through him as he remembered. Now all his past conquests felt like awkward mistakes when compared to his time with Brea. He could feel pairs of angry eyes watching him from around the bar. Perhaps he'd taken things too far when he left, had been too cocky.
"You don't need to worry about me with the ladies," Miles promised, flashing his Uncle his boldest smile.
"You gone and got a ball and chain?" Deacon raised an eyebrow.
"What?" Miles spluttered out some of his beer. "No."
"Because having a woman in your bed makes you a King. Having a woman in your heart makes you weak, don't you ever forget that Miles?"
"No," Miles swallowed nervously. "I won't forget, Uncle."
Chapter 34
Brea's cheeks ached from smiling so much. Each morning she sprang up out of bed, eager to start the day. She was doing a job she absolutely adored and had a boyfriend she was well and truly falling for her. Just thinking about Miles made her entire body break out in excited goose bumps. He was everything she'd ever wanted in a boyfriend – he was strong, loving and loyal. Not to mention insanely hot.