Mason:Inked Reapers MC(114)

Everything in Brea's life was going well. At the parlor, she was getting  more and more clients. Lots of repeat work too, where people loved her  art so much that they came back for more. To Brea, there was no higher  compliment they could pay her. To have a piece of her original artwork  etched into someone's skin, it was incredible. She couldn't remember the  last time she'd been this happy, at least not since her parents died.  This felt like the life she'd always been destined to live.



"Aren't you a ray of sunshine?" Gina commented with a smile as Brea  bounced in through reception, the door jangling merrily behind her. Even  though it was cloudy outside for Brea, it felt like a beautiful sunny  day and nothing could cast a shadow over her happy thoughts.



"I'm just happy," Brea shrugged playfully.



"You're just getting laid," Gina observed, raising an eyebrow.



"What?" Brea's smile promptly fell from her face. Was it that obvious?  Some of her happiness started to slip away. If Gina found out about  Miles, then she might tell Sylar. And so what if she did? Didn't Brea  deserve to find happiness with someone just as her brother had done?  Though she might not revel in her happiness quite as audibly as he had  done. And within such close proximity.



"I'm happy for you," Gina shrugged, smirking to herself. She raised a  hand to tuck a loose strand of neon shaded hair behind her ear. As she  did so, all the bangles she was wearing jangled towards her elbow  sounding like a metallic waterfall. "Everyone deserves to be getting  laid."



"Amen!" the male receptionist chimed in with a cheeky grin. Brea rolled her eyes at both of them.



"Can't a girl just be happy for the sake of being happy?" she needed to  lure them off the scent before she revealed something about her and  Miles. She kind of liked keeping their relationship a secret from Sylar.  It made everything feel more dangerous.



"Not in my experience," Gina quipped with a click of her fingers. Her  long nails had been painted a dense shade of black which didn't bode  well for the day ahead. Brea had learned that Gina was prone to painting  her nails to match her mood. While sunshine yellow would reflect her  current mood, if Gina was feeling black she clearly didn't share her  colleague's level of happiness. Had Sylar failed to call her? It  wouldn't surprise Brea. He hardly seemed like decent boyfriend material,  even as his sister she could see that.



"Well, I am happy just because. Can't I just be happy about being alive  and in the company of you fine people on a day as lovely as this?" Brea  gestured towards the leaden clouds outside.



"Now I know she's lying!" the receptionist pointed at her and laughed.



"He's right," Gina pursed her lips and nodded thoughtfully in agreement.  "Maybe you're not ready to tell me about lover boy just yet but you'll  crack. They all do."



Brea forced herself to smile confidently although inside she felt her  resolve weakening. She was keen to crack. She wanted to boast about  Miles and how amazing he made her feel. She'd never known anything like  this before. Just seeing his name on her phone screen made her heart  beat a bit faster. When they were apart, she physically ached and the  ache didn't lessen until she was back in his arms.



Which reminded her that it had been two whole days since they'd last  been together. Miles had muttered something about work and that he'd be  back soon. Forty-eight hours had passed since then. Brea prayed that  work really was just busy and it wasn't anything else. Despite her best  efforts, her happy feeling had failed to last until nine am. She felt  dark clouds start to close in on her. The dark shade on Gina's nails  suddenly seemed more appealing.                       
       
           



       



"You can keep your secrets," Gina gave her a friendly smile as she  approached her and patted her softly on the shoulder. "Keeps things more  fun that way, doesn't it?"



Brea didn't open her mouth to object. She no longer had the heart. Her  dream had been shattered by the fear that maybe everything wasn't as  rosy as she believed it to be. Was she a fool for believing Miles? But  why would he leave? Surely he was as happy as she was. But Brea didn't  have time to dwell on such troubling thoughts. Her first client for the  day had arrived bright and early, excited for the owl design she was  going to have tattooed on her ankle.



"It's for my late Grandmother," she explained as Brea prepared her equipment.



"Oh?"



"She was always so wise," the young woman said with a smile.



"I see," Brea wiped cleaned and shaved the area of skin that she'd be  working on. It was a sweet, intricate design that she'd be doing of a  snowy owl sat atop a branch, their dark eyes looking out at the world,  the moonlight reflected in them.



"This is such a great design," the woman cooed appreciatively as Brea  applied the transfer. "I've been telling all my friends about it."



"Let's hope you like it when we're all finished," Brea gave her  professional, cool smile of confident assurance. She'd learned that even  when she was nervous it was in her best interest to make the client  think she was always cool, calm and in control.



"Oh, I know I'll love it," the girl gushed. "Your work is amazing.  People have been talking about it all over town. I have no doubt that  soon you'll be so busy, you'll won't be able to keep up."





Chapter 34



"What are we even supposed to do out here?" Colin groaned as he  stretched out on the bed in his small motel room. Miles gave him a  steely glance. He was tired of babysitting his two other club members.  Now that he was back in Colridge all he wanted to do was be with Brea,  instead he was stuck keeping an eye on Colin and Hank, making sure they  didn't get into any trouble.



"This place blows," Hank mouthed the words around the unlit cigar which was clenched between his teeth.



"Well," Miles searched his mind for something, anything for them to do.  They weren't the kind of guys who could spend an afternoon at the  movies. His thoughts drifted, as they so often did, to Brea. He wasn't  about to tell them he had a girlfriend, but it wouldn't hurt to send a  bit of work her way.



"I got some new ink while I was here." He shrugged off the thin t-shirt  he was wearing to reveal Brea's handiwork. Both Hank and Colin leaned  forward, their eyes wide with interest.



"Hey, man, that's pretty decent work," Hank removed his cigar from his  mouth to bestow the compliment, brandishing it around in one hand.



"Yeah," Colin agreed, his eyes narrowed with scrutiny. "You got that done in town?"



"Sure did," Miles pulled his t-shirt back on. "There's a parlor in town with an artist named Brea who does real nice work."



"Is this Brea a nice piece of work too?" Hank chuckled to himself as he  finally lit his cigar, a plume of dark smoke circling around him.



"She's … um … " Miles nervously shoved his hands into his pockets. How could  he deter the guys from Brea without revealing they were dating? It was  too risky to let them know about his relationship with her, as it put  her in danger. He was about to let Brea become collateral damage for  anything that went down between the Reapers and the Blood Pact in  Colridge while he was there.



"She likes girls," he said with a shrug.



"Doesn't put me off," Hank grinned.



"She's involved with a woman at the parlor. I think her name is Gina."



"Ah," Hank's interest seemed to wane. He pushed up the sleeve of his  jacket to show a grisly tattoo of a pack of wolves ripping apart a man.  "I'm thinking of adding to this," he told the other two men.



"What would you add?" Colin frowned. "An apology? That's an awful tat, man."



"Speak for yourself," Hank gave a haughty gruff. "You're the one who has your Mama's name on your chest."



"Hey," Colin looked wounded by his friend's words. "She died. It's a tribute."



"Still makes you a pussy," Hank shrugged. "The only women's names you  should have inked on to you are those who fucked your brains out. Plain  and simple. No other women are worth remembering."                       
       
           



       



Miles turned away from them so that they wouldn't see him smiling to  himself. By their logic he should have Brea's name boldly tattooed on  himself. He was still grinning to himself when the two men got up and  headed for the door to their motel room.