Free Miles (Highway Reapers MC): Inked Hearts by Heather West

Miles’ motorcycle as they embarked on their whistle stop tour of America together.

Chapter 22
     
    Miles’ hands were slick with grease. The dismantled parts of his motorcycle were scattered around him as if there had been an explosion. His bike was struggling to start. As much as Miles wished he could be spending the day with Brea, he was forced to hang out on the parking lot of the motel, trying to fix his bike.
     
    “You know, son, there’s a right decent mechanic up in town,” an old man commented as he shuffled out towards his pick-up truck, back lit by the morning light as he looked down at Miles.
     
    “Thanks,” Miles smiled kindly at the old man. “But I’d rather try and fix her up myself, save some money.”
     
    “He’s pretty cheap,” the old man insisted. He nodded towards his truck. “I could give you a run down there, pile her up in the back.”
     
    It was such a kind offer, Miles was pained to turn it down. But the second the mechanic took a look at his bike he’d know who Miles was, and more importantly, where he was from. The emblem for the Reapers was etched within the engine’s interior, like a secret brand. Back home, that emblem was all Miles needed to get a free service on his bike. But here in Colridge, if someone saw it they’d likely break his jaw. And the last thing Miles needed was trouble. He was trying to stay in town as long as possible because being in town meant being with Brea. If he stirred up too much noise his Uncle would call him back in a heartbeat.
     
    “That’s might kind but I really can’t put you out like that.” Miles hoped that the old man would accept his refusal and not push him anymore. He gave a sigh of relief when the old man nodding and started sauntering over to his truck.
     
    “Suit yourself,” he called over his shoulder to Miles. “Was just trying to help you out.”
     
    Miles watched the truck sputter out of the parking lot before returning his attention to his bike. He usually found working on it to be therapeutic but currently his mind was as dismantled as the engine around him. He kept thinking about the last time he’d seen Brea, and about what she’d told him about her relationship with her brother. It certainly sounded intense. And Miles couldn’t help but wonder, given their history, why he hadn’t met Brea’s brother yet. Was there more to the story? Would his level of protectiveness threaten Miles’ relationship with Brea? 
     
    His hand tightened angrily around the wrench he was holding. Miles realized that he’d be willing to fight for Brea, that her brother wasn’t the only one who felt protective towards her. But perhaps her brother’s feelings were just normal, especially given the extreme circumstances they’d grown up under.
     
    Miles had no siblings. It was just him and his Mom and then it was just him. For the longest time he didn’t think he had any family. He fought for his life on the streets, learning too young how brutal the world can be. He learned how to handle himself in a fight, how to take a punch and more importantly, how to give a good one.
     
    When his Uncle finally found him, Miles must have looked like some sort of wretched street urchin. His clothes and skin were dirtied to beyond recognition. His hair was matted against his head and he stank of dirt, sweat and blood. But beneath all the grime and the pain his Uncle saw Miles. Saw the kind of man he could one day become. Miles had been denied a proper education but he’d learned all the life lessons he needed from living on the streets. But if his Uncle hadn’t found him when he did Miles doubted he could have lasted much longer. His lungs were weak and he had a permanent chill in his bones which felt ready to escalate into something sinister.
     
    Thankfully fate intervened and Miles was saved. His Uncle and the Highway Reapers, became his family. For the first time in so long Miles felt like he belonged. He would do anything for the