Mason:Inked Reapers MC(120)

"If they come back, don't serve them," Sylar ordered sternly.



"I can't do that," he could hear the indignation in Gina's pitched  voice. "Brea is working on a sleeve for the one of them. He's due to  come back for a few appointments."



"Cancel all of them."



"Sylar, I can't, this is my business and - "



"If they know who she is, that she's my sister, they will hurt her,"  Sylar was hissing the words into his cell phone, his pulse racing. "And  by hurt I don't mean slap around. I mean maim and maybe worse. Those  guys being there puts her in danger."



Gina was silent.



"Please, make sure they don't come back."



"Did you bring trouble to my town?" Gina asked sharply. It sounded like she was struggling not to cry.



"No," Sylar reassured her as softly as he could. "Trouble was already there long before I arrived."





Chapter 48



Brea splashed her face with cold water to try and hide the mottled stain  on her cheeks from where she'd been crying. She felt foolish to have  expected Sylar to be nice to her. He probably still resented her for  leaving town in the first place and being mean was his way of punishing  her.



Straightening her t-shirt Brea made the decision to have a nap in her  old bedroom and then head straight back to Colridge. She was done with  her brother and his petty grudges. But when she returned to the main  living area of the house she was surprised to find Sylar bent over the  game of Candy Land, carefully rearranging all the pieces which Brea had  hastily packed away.



"Sylar?" Brea titled her head at him, wondering what he was doing.



"Hey," he looked up at her giving her his easy going grin, the one he  used to wear as a kid. It looked strange to see it on his adult face,  but also comforting.



"I'm sorry about earlier," he explained, his eyes dropping back to the  game. "I'm just tired and have got a lot going on at work, but I can't  go taking that shit out on you."



"So you want to play now?" Brea wondered, intrigued as she sat down  beside him. She felt a thrill of excitement run down her spine. She'd  missed this version of her brother  –  the kind, fun Sylar.



"If you can handle me beating your ass," Sylar joked.



"You know the rule," Brea reminded him with a warm smile, "best out of three."



"You're on."





Chapter 49



Miles turned up his collar as he walked down the street. He didn't  really know where he was going, just that he wanted out of that damn  motel room. It was quiet at such an early hour. A few cars meandered  down the road, but most shops were still closed. The sky overhead was a  light shade of gray, promising a day of cloud cover but no rain. Miles  quickened his pace. He liked Colridge; It was a small town, but it was  clean and well maintained. He approached a shop door and noticed a large  clothed bundle wedged up against the wall on the top step.                       
       
           



       



He swallowed against the lump which had gathered in his throat. He knew  from experience that within that bundle a homeless person was sleeping.  Even the nicest of towns had homeless, it was an inevitable fact of  life. Miles could still remember the constant pinch from the cold and  the never ending gnawing in his stomach that came from being perpetually  hungry. There was a time when that would have been him curled up in a  ball, trying to fend off the elements as best he could.



Miles fished a five-dollar bill out of his pocket and reached towards  the bundle, carefully placing it on the step beside them. The bundle  didn't move. Sadly, Miles stepped back and carried on. Whoever was  nestled up inside had probably learned to stay perfectly still when  strangers approached. When he was living on the street, Miles would be  harassed on a daily basis. It didn't help that he was young and  handsome. People with dark fantasies would mistake his living rough for  being their property. Men in designer suits would offer him crisp dollar  bills in exchange for sexual favors. But no matter how empty his  stomach felt that was something he would never do. He'd seen others  disappear down dark alleys with such men and never return.



Walking faster Miles did his best to put some distance between himself  and his demons. He rubbed his hands together as if trying to stave off  the cold, though the morning was relatively mild. Twice he'd almost lost  his fingers to frost bite. So many times he'd teetered between the edge  of life and death that he no longer feared it. Sometimes he wondered if  his Uncle was taking advantage of that when he introduced him to the  Reapers.





Chapter 50



As Gina began opening up her tattoo parlor, the conversation with Sylar  was still resonating in the forefront of her mind. She'd deliberated all  night about whether or not she should have called him. The guys who  came in might not even run with a motorcycle gang, they might just be  assholes. But on the wrist of the one she was sure she'd spied the dark  silhouette of a scythe. And he'd been careful to try and conceal it from  her, which only roused her suspicions more. If it meant nothing,  there'd be no harm in it being in plain sight.



Her stomach turned when she imagined the blonde guy returning for his  sleeve to be worked on. As much as she wanted to heed Sylar's warnings,  she couldn't very well turn him away. What if she was wrong? What if  they weren't gang members? She couldn't afford to turn down work  especially when they tipped as well as those guys did.



Gina reasoned that she could finish the sleeve herself but would that  look suspicious? She was chewing on these thoughts when the door tinkled  and the first guy Brea had tattooed strolled in. Gina caught her  breath. He was so handsome in his leather jacket and heavy boots. His  hair had been tousled by the wind so that it had playfully landed over  his eyes.



"Morning," he greeted her, his voice as deep and sensuous as the richest velvet.



"We're um … not open yet," Gina was batting her eyelashes at him.



"Oh," he gave her a shy smile. "Sorry. I was just walking by and wanted  to drop in and say hi to Brea. I guess I was operating on auto-pilot or  something." He nervously shoved his hands into the pocket of his jeans.



The corners of Gina's mouth lifted in an intrigued smile.



"You were looking for Brea?"



"Yeah," the guy started to blush. Gina nodded knowingly to herself. So  this was the reason for Brea's happiness. And who could blame her? The  guy was impossibly handsome and sexy with just the right amount of bad  boy edge.



"She's not in today," Gina explained. "She's visiting her brother," she  felt compelled to say more, to keep the handsome guy within her sight  for as long as she could.



"Oh, yeah, of course," he gave a nervous little laugh. "No problem. Thanks again."



The door chimed as he left. Gina watched his perfect ass in his jeans  depart from the store. Her pulse was racing by the time he'd left.





Chapter 51



Sylar ached both from lack of sleep and from the worries which gnawed at  his every conscious thought. Brea was blissfully unaware of his inner  anguish as she stood by the front door, waiting for her cab to arrive.



"I've had so much fun," she smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners.  Sylar had to admit that for a while he'd had fun too. But as soon as  he'd seen Miles' picture all his enjoyment had been overshadowed by  worry.



"It was good seeing you," Sylar reached for his sister and gave her a  tight hug. It felt good to hold her close but also strange. Brea was so  much taller than the girl he'd had to look out for all those years ago.  She was a woman now. But Sylar still felt the need to protect her,  especially from someone as dangerous as a Highway Reapers member.                       
       
           



       



A part of him wanted to just yell at her, to scream until he lost his  voice about how she needed to stay away from Miles. But he knew that if  he did that he'd just be effectively pushing her into her lover's arms.  No, he needed to be more subtle about his dislike for Miles and hope  that it would be enough to make his sister see sense.



"Feels like only yesterday I was living here," Brea sighed as they parted from their embrace.



"It pretty much was," Sylar agreed. "You've barely been away. You don't  want to go rushing into anything." He chose his words carefully and  registered Brea's response. He saw her bristle beneath the turquoise  playsuit she was wearing. A hand drifted up to her neck and began to  massage the back of it.