Mason:Inked Reapers MC(139)

"No," Sylar sighed. "I've got my mate running laps around the block  searching for her, I've called you. She must be with that …  bastard."



"Probably."



"I'm going to fucking kill him."



"Don't you think you need to let all this hate go?" Gina suggested.  "After all, the reason Brea is in danger is because of all the hate you  harbour towards this other gang."



"Don't talk about things you know nothing about!" Sylar raged down the phone.



"Don't make assumptions about me," Gina's rebuttal was swift. "You're  not the only one who got dealt a shitty hand in life, Sylar. But other  people don't allow it to weigh them down like you do, they don't wear  their tragedy on their sleeve, like some heinous accessory."



Sylar hung up. Gina blinked at her phone in surprise and then put it  down and continued to fast forward through the ad break on the  television.





Chapter 88



"She's here," Smith ran into the house, just as Sylar was angrily shoving his cell phone back in the pocket of his jeans.



"You found her?" Sylar felt hope swell inside him, warm and pleasant. Of  course Smith had found her, it wasn't like Brea could have gotten far.



"Not exactly," Smith jerked his head behind him to the driveway. The  thunderous roar of a bike engine erupted across the neighborhood. Sylar  watched the motorcycle approach the house in disbelief, its single  headlight illuminating the house as it turned to the driveway. Even in  the darkness, he could make out his sister clinging to the rider like a  limpet out at sea. He ground his teeth together and cracked his  knuckles. Had Brea really been foolish enough to bring a rival gang  member to his home?                       
       
           



       



"Go grab the crowbar," Sylar ordered his friend, never taking his eyes  off the rider who was now turning off the engine, killing the  headlights, and climbing off his motorcycle. Brea held his hand in hers  as they came towards the house, her hair wild around her head from her  time on the bike. Sylar steeled himself. The fight had now moved from  Colridge to his own living room. So be it. He'd still do the Blood Pact  proud, still honor all his pack brothers. There was no way he was  letting him walk out of his house alive.





Chapter 89



Brea felt sick with nerves as she approached the front door of her home.  She could see the rage rippling beneath the surface of her brother's  face. At any second, he was liable to explode. Gripping Miles' hand  tightly, she was starting to fear that she'd made the wrong decision,  that they should never have come here. What if Sylar wasn't as willing  to turn his back on his pack as Miles was?



She was now inches away from her brother, the extent of the hardness in his face was in full view.



"So you came back?" he asked icily.



"Yes," Brea nodded and swallowed nervously. "I wanted to talk."



"I don't talk to his type," he nodded towards Miles.



"Humor me," Brea took a deep breath before barging past her brother and  dragging Miles along with her. She prayed that she hadn't just made a  huge mistake as she led both men into the living room. The same space  which had once radiated with laughter in happier times. Brea pushed away  those memories as tears filled her eyes. This was her chance to save  Sylar from himself, to give them all a clean slate and a new start away  from motorcycle gangs and violence. This was her shot and she couldn't  blow it.





Chapter 90



"Don't you come another fucking step closer," Sylar extended his hands  towards the couple, his face twisted with fury. Brea froze, anchoring  his rival beside her. Sylar heard Smith return, instantly reassured by  his arrival. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the crowbar held  tightly in Smith's grip. When he glanced back at Brea's boyfriend, the  color had drained from the man's face. Sylar struggled to suppress a  satisfied smile.



"Sylar, please, I just want to talk," Brea pleaded, gazing at him helplessly. "We don't want any trouble."



"Then you shouldn't have bought him here," Sylar raged. Every second a  Highway Reapers member continued to draw breath on his property, Sylar  risked losing favor with his own pack. He could sense Smith struggling  with similar thoughts. Both men knew how deep the divide between the two  packs went, how letting a Reaper walk free could be costly for them in  ways they couldn't yet imagine.



"You lied to me!" Brea cried contritely, moving forward from her  companion so that she was just inches away from Sylar. He could see the  torment reflected in her eyes, the tension in her jawline. "You ride  with the fucking Blood Pact!!" she roared.



Sylar cowed beneath her vitriol, but only slightly. He shot Miles a hate  filled glance, feeling his insides become churned with disdain.



"He tell you that?" he scoffed.



"Yes," Brea confirmed stiffly. "He did. When it should have come from  you. It should have been you who told me, Sylar. How could you keep that  from me?"



"Because it doesn't concern you!" Sylar was so angry he feared he might  spontaneously combust, splattering all those around him with his feeble  innards. "Brea, do you have any idea how hard it was when Mom and Dad  died? Of course you don't, I shielded you from all of that!"



"I didn't ask you to!" Tears were sparkling in Brea's eyes, her mouth  down-turned in anguished sorrow. "You chose to take that burden on,  Sylar."



"What choice did I have? I had to protect you, Brea. To take care of  you." Something unpleasant crept up Sylar's spine as he spoke. It  reached his mouth and left an unpleasant taste there. He realized that  he resented his sister for unknowingly stealing his childhood from him.  For her, he had sacrificed so much and now she repaid him by bringing  his enemy to his home.



"I did it all for you," he wanted to be free of his burden, to be free  from all the responsibilities which had weighed him down for so many  years.



"Let's just kill the fucker and be done with it," Smith took a menacing step forward, raising his crowbar to eye level.



"Wait," Sylar pushed him back. Brea looked so defeated, faced with his  anger. Her pretty faced crumpled and she was once again a little girl  lost in the world. Sylar remembered the day their parents had died, how  she'd wilted against him and cried herself hoarse. He'd vowed at that  moment, to always take care of her, to always love her.                       
       
           



       



"If he's come all this way the least we can do is hear him out." He  stepped aside, allowing a bemused looking Brea and Miles to enter the  house.



"Seriously?" Smith contested angrily. "If the pack hear about this, they'll fucking kill us, you understand?!"



"Well they won't hear about it from me," Sylar said sternly. "Will they hear about it from you?"



"Shit, no," Smith shook his head and closed the front door, sealing them  all inside the little house. "I don't have a death wish."



"So why are you here?" Sylar addressed Miles, folding his arms across his chest. "And no bullshit. I want the truth."





Chapter 91



This was the first time Miles had been in Brea's family home. There was  evidence of happier times in the framed pictures on the walls. He  reached for her hand and locked it in his own. Her brother's scarred  friend was worryingly close, still gripping a crowbar. If things went  south, Miles knew that he couldn't take both men on. All that mattered  was keeping Brea safe.



"Tonight there's going to be trouble in Colridge," Miles announced  stiffly. It felt wrong to betray his pack this way, to speak with Reaper  members on reasonable terms. He had to keep reminding himself that he  was doing it for Brea. It was all for Brea.



"Tell me something I don't know," Sylar snarled.



"It's going to be a bloodbath," Miles continued, hoping he could somehow reach Brea's brother and convince him not to go.



"Good," the crowbar wielding friend grinned excitedly.



"Not good," Miles shook his head sadly. "It's a fight few will be  walking away from. Which is why I'm not going. Instead, I'm leaving town  with your sister."



Sylar's glance flicked between the couple, darkening with unease.



"You're what?"



"We're leaving town," Brea stepped in.



"You mean you're going on the run?" Sylar clarified coldly. "Putting my  sister in danger because you're too chicken shit to fight?" the look of  confusion crossed his wicked eyes.