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Mason:Inked Reapers MC(138)

By:Heather West




"Fuck!" Sylar pressed his hands to his temples and kicked at her bedroom  door. "Fuck!" he yelled again. With Brea gone they wouldn't be able to  go and join the rest of the Blood Pact until she was found.



"This is so what we don't need right now!" Sylar raged. "Fuck!"





Chapter 86



Miles breathed her in as he held her against his chest. She smelled so  sweet, like cherries and cinnamon. His entire body trembled with the  relief of holding her again.



"I'm so sorry," he whispered breathlessly. "I'm so sorry for everything."



Standing on the small bridge just outside of town, they were silhouetted  against a darkening sky. Miles wanted to keep holding onto her never  letting her go. But he couldn't stop thinking about the gang he'd left  behind. Even though Hank said he didn't need to, Miles lifted his head  and glanced over his shoulder. Behind him the road was empty in the  twilight, his bike rested against the brick bridge.                       
       
           



       



"It's okay," Brea reassured him as she burrowed deeper against his chest. "I forgive you."



Miles bit back tears. He knew that he didn't deserve her forgiveness.  Before she came along, his life had been a string of bad choices and  only now did he see the path he should take clearly laid out before him.



"There's no excuses for the things I've done in my past," he sighed,  running a hand up and down Brea's back. "I've hurt people, Brea. I've  hurt them and not even cared about it."



"But you see it. You don't deny and get defensive about it. You know how  bad you fucked up," Brea leaned back and looked up at him, her eyes  sparkling as though they held fallen stars. "You want to break away, to  move on with your life."



"Yes," Miles agreed emphatically. "More than anything I want to move on  now, to start a life with you away from them, away from all their  expectations of me."



"I wish my brother felt like that," Brea looked forlorn as she stepped away from Miles and wandered sadly back along the bridge.



"Did you …  ask him about it?" Miles hated that he'd been the one to tell  Brea just who her brother was. He understood why her brother would have  been keeping the secret from her, seeing as how Miles had been keeping  his own secrets for the same reasons.



"No," Brea replied tightly, pulling her arms together across her chest.  "I just left," she hung her head shamefully. "I figured it would be  easier to talk to him about leaving his pack together."



Miles tensed. She was expecting him to talk to her brother? A Blood Pact  member? Such a conversation would inevitably end in bloodshed. Even  though Miles had no intention to ride again with his own gang, in the  eyes of the Pact, her brother's membership to his own pack had a  lifetime guarantee.



"He won't listen to me," Miles insisted. "Besides, there's no time. We  need to get out of here, Brea, before anyone comes looking for us."



"We have to talk to him!" Brea looked at him pleadingly. "We have to go  back and talk Miles out of fighting your pack. I can't just run away  from him." Her beautiful face crumpled with hurt. Miles rubbed his hand  against the back of his neck and tried to think. He knew that they were  already wasting precious time. They should be out on the open road  putting as many miles between them and his Uncle, as possible. Miles  still wasn't sure he trusted Hank, but he had no choice but to heed the  other man's advice. Especially when it meant that he was now able to be  with Brea. But he didn't want their time together to be short lived. He  had to keep her safe.



"We really need to go," Miles looked at his bike, yearning to get on it and leave nothing but a trail of dust in its wake.



"Please," Brea approached him and reached for his hands, cupping them in  her own. "I have to go back for Miles. I have to at least try to reason  with him."



"And what if it doesn't work?" Miles countered sharply. "What if we go there white flags waving and he still guns me down."



"He wouldn't do that," Brea objected, her voice highly pitched with horror.



"He'd do far worse than that," Miles told her flatly. "And the ties we  have to our packs, it runs deep, deeper than blood. We pledge our lives  to our packs."



"So how can you just turn your back on that pledge now?"



"Because of you," Miles reached for her delicate face and drew her close  to him. She looked so perfect in the fading light. She opened her mouth  to speak, but he kissed her deeply, silencing her words. When they  parted, her eyes glistened with joy.



"Don't you think Sylar will abandon his pack for me too?" she asked  softly. Miles wanted to tell her what she wanted to hear, that yes, of  course her brother would leave his gang for her. But the truth was that  he wouldn't. He loved Brea but not like Miles did. For Miles Brea was  his destiny, his future and for Sylar she was a link to his past,  someone he'd forever feel responsible for.



"I have to ask," Brea stated contritely, sensing Miles' misgivings.



"We don't have time."



"We'll make time," Brea was approaching his motorcycle with quick,  determined steps. Miles groaned in frustration before jogging after her.



"This is a bad idea," he warned as he swung his leg over. Brea climbed  on behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist. It felt good to have  her so close. With them both on the bike, it truly felt like them  against the world. Miles had to fight the urge to take off in the  opposite direction and just burn rubber until the streets around them  became blurred and alien.                       
       
           



       



"Do this for me, please," Brea was speaking directly into his ear; her breath feather light and hot.



"Okay," Miles turned the throttle on his bike and the engine purred to  life. "We've got one hour. That's at most." he told her before roaring  off into the night.





Chapter 87



Gina had drawn all the drapes in her apartment and sat on her sofa, her  legs curled up beneath her as she held a large mug of hot cocoa and  watched a marathon of Next Top Model. She had no intention of leaving  the safety of her home until the following morning. Over the sound of  the television, she strained to hear any sides of chaos drifting in from  the outside but so far the evening had been still.



She was about to fast forward through an ad break when her phone whirred  to life on her nearby coffee table. Gina strained forward to glance at  the screen. Sylar was calling her. She groaned and considered just  letting the call ring out and have her answering machine pick it up. But  after the fifth ring, she conceded and grabbed the device, pressing  down hand on the green answer button.



"Hello?" annoyance flooded her voice, making it sound much sharper than usual.



"Is Brea with you?" Sylar barked the question at her.



"Wait, what?" Gina blinked and lowered her cup of sweet hot chocolate to  the nearby table. "You call me up and the first thing you do is bark a  question at me like some sort of drill sergeant!"



"I don't have time for this," Sylar groaned. "Is she there or not?"



"No." Gina was alone in her apartment and she intended on keeping it  that way, at least until the trouble in town had blown over.



"Shit."



"Sylar, what's going on? Where is Brea?"



"If I knew that I wouldn't be calling you asking that very question! Fuck!"



Gina could feel her chest tightening with panic. Where was Brea? Surely  she was secure in her own apartment. She hadn't been foolish enough to  leave, had she? To seek out her biker boyfriend?



"She's probably just at her apartment," Gina said logically.



"No, I took her from there," Sylar replied tersely. "I bought her home."



"Why?"



"You know why." Ice coated each word Sylar spoke.



"How bad are things going to get here?" Gina glanced dubiously at her  concealed windows, her vow not to leave that night strengthening with  each passing second.



"Bad. Really bad."



"Jesus."



"And now Brea has up and left my place," Sylar admitted. He sounded so  desperate, so out of control. So unlike his usual strong self.



"Do you have any idea where she might be?" Gina wondered, wishing there  was some way she could help. Brea was a sweet girl, she certainly didn't  want to see her pulled into all the biker's mess and possibly hurt.