Mason: Inked Reapers MC (60 page)

Chapter 118

Kait looked at her reflection and wondered for the tenth time whether or not to get changed. She was wearing a bright blue halter neck dress which fell to her knees and showed off both her toned legs and her curves. She loved how she felt in the dress, but she feared she might not be dressed up enough for wherever they were going. Jasper had been strangely cryptic about their plans saying that he’d meet her on the beach, which made little sense to Kait as all the best restaurants were up in the main hotel complex set back from the beach.

She decided not to dwell on it. Spinning around, she gave her reflection one last check before leaving their plush cabin which stood on stilts over the water. At night, she could lie away and hear the waves rippling beneath it. It was the most calming thing she’d ever heard, and over the last few days she’d slept better than she had in her entire life. She was finally truly happy.

Tiki torches lit the route towards the beach, and beyond that up to the hotel. Kait walked briskly in her beige patent wedges, eager to catch up with Jasper. It had been several hours since she’d seen him. Where he’d got to she didn’t know. He’d been acting quite mysterious.

“Jasper!” Kait stopped dead in her tracks when she saw him on the path just ahead of her, patiently waiting. He was wearing a smart cream suit which made him look like a movie star. Kait suddenly felt undressed in her halter dress and also stunned by how amazing he looked.

“Oh my God, where the hell are we going?” She gasped. She didn’t even know that Jasper owned a suit. He was more of a smart jeans and suit jacket kind of guy.

“Do I scrub up okay?” Jasper wondered nervously. Kait stared at him in shock. How could he possibly be nervous? He looked amazing!

“I should say so,” Kait tentatively approached him. “Jasper, you look so handsome. But why the suit? Do I need to go back and change?” She glanced back towards the cabin in the distance, but Jasper reached for her hand and locked it in his, guiding her further down the path.

“You look beautiful,” he told her warmly. “Besides, we’re almost there.”

“But, Jasper, we’re on the beach and - ”

As they talked, they left the path and moved on to the beach. It was then that Kait spotted the private table over by the shoreline, surrounded by about fifty flickering candles. A smartly dressed waiter stood beside the table with a bottle of champagne ready to be poured and a lady in a long gown lingered beyond the candlelight, holding a violin.

“Oh my God!” Kait froze and took in the romantic scene. It felt like something out of a movie, but it was right in front of her and very much real.

“Jasper…this…”

“It’s all for you,” Jasper kissed her cheek and then led her over to the table. “I wanted to give you a magical night beneath the stars to thank you for everything you’ve done for me.”

“I don’t know what to say,” Kait admitted as she sat down at the table with the ocean stretching out dark and mysterious beside her.

By candlelight, they dined on exquisite food, drank champagne, and were serenaded by a solo violinist. It was the perfect evening.

Feeling full and content, Kait smiled across the table at Jasper.

“This evening,” she breathed, “It’s all just been so perfect, Jasper.”

“Wait!” He raised a hand at her. “I’ve got one surprise left.”

Kait laughed in shock. What more could he possibly have up his suit sleeve? He’d already whisked her away to paradise and given her the most romantic evening of her life. Surely there was no way he could top that.

Jasper nodded at the violinist and the waiter who respectfully took their cue to leave. Now the couple was completely alone.

“Kait,” Jasper was sweating on the other side of the table despite the cool evening air. He loosened the top button of his shirt and nervously cleared his throat multiple times.

“Jasper, are you okay?” Kait began to fear that he was having some sort of allergic reaction.

“Just let me talk, please,” Jasper pleaded.

Kait nodded silently and sunk back in to her chair as Jasper climbed out of his. He smoothed down his jacket and came around to her side of the table. In the flickering candlelight, he looked so handsome and strong. Kait remembered the first time she’d seen him, when he’d saved her. And now she’d finally been able to repay the debt and save him too; they were even.

“Kait, you stood by me when the whole world thought I was a loser,” Jasper told her, his voice shaking.

“I know,” Kait insisted, “and you’ve thanked me countless times, Jasper. We don’t need to keep reliving it.”

“But it’s more than that,” Jasper insisted. “You were always able to see in me my true self, even when I couldn’t see it. You’ve made me a better man. Every moment that I’m with you I’m so completely happy, and I never, ever thought I’d find someone who made me feel like that. So much of my life was spent alone, fighting to survive. But I don’t want it to always be like that. I want to share my life with you.”

Kait was about to speak when Jasper knelt down in the sand on one knee. A hand fluttered up to her chest as her heart began to patter manically in her chest. Everything felt like it was happening in slow motion, and she was suddenly acutely aware of all the scents and sounds of the evening. She could taste the salt from the sea and could hear the distant humming of a busy evening up at the hotel complex. She could even hear the frantic beat of her own heart in her ear drums.

“I’ve loved you since the moment I saw you,” Jasper told her as he reached in to his jacket pocket and pulled out a small black velvet box. “And I want to spend the rest of my life loving you. Kait, will you marry me?” He opened the box and raised it to her. Kait gasped as she looked down on a stunning ring boasting one large diamond which glittered like the stars dotted in the night sky above them, flanked by two smaller sapphires. It was the most beautiful ring Kait had ever seen.

“Yes!” The word gushed from her like an eager fountain. “Yes, yes yes! A thousand times yes!”

Grinning, Jasper leaned forward and kissed her. His lips had never tasted so good. And then he leaned back and removed the ring from its velvet box and slipped it onto Kait’s extended finger. It fit perfectly.

“Oh, Jasper!” She held her hand up to admire the ring in the candlelight. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing. She was now actually engaged to Jasper Duboix, to the man who had previously saved her in a car park. It was like a modern day fairy tale.

Jasper kissed her, and it was tender, sealing the promise they had just made to one another.

“So?” He asked as he broke the kiss. “Are you ready to become Mrs. Jasper Duboix?”

“Absolutely,” Kait gushed without hesitation. “I think Kait Duboix has a real ring to it, don’t you?”

Epilogue

Jasper was smiling as he walked out of the orphanage. His talk had gone exceedingly well. He’d told them his story to help inspire them with going after their own dreams. It was what he’d always wanted to do – to help others achieve their goals. Since retiring from professional fighting, he’d published his memoirs and become something of a celebrity. But he could never have done it without Kait’s help. He found her over by their parked car; she was radiant. One hand smoothed over the swell of her belly while the other gripped their adopted son, Tai, by the hand.

“Look,” Kait pointed at Jasper as he walked over, “Daddy’s all finished with his talk.” She released Tai from her grip, and the little boy hurriedly ran over to his father. Jasper scooped him up in his arms and rested him atop his shoulders.

“So?” Kait asked with a smile as Jasper and Tai approached the car. “How did it go?”

“Really well,” Jasper grinned. “I’m going to come back again, and I’ve already made a donation.”

“Great,” Kait stood up to get in the car and suddenly paused, wincing slightly.

“What is it?” Jasper asked, tense with concern.

“Nothing,” Kait breathed deeply and waved a dismissive hand in her husband’s direction. “It’s just the baby kicking.”

“Really?” Jasper relaxed and smiled warmly at her.

“Kicking?” Tai uttered from atop his Dad’s shoulders. “Is the baby going to be a fighter like Daddy?”

This made both Kait and Jasper laugh.

“Maybe,” Kait replied, “who knows? Both you and your little brother or sister can grow up to be whatever you want.”

“I want to be a fighter like Daddy!” Tai insisted, excitedly squirming.

“Okay, well until then how about we go home and have pizza?” Jasper suggested, pulling Tai from his shoulders and placing the little boy inside the car.

“Yay!” Tai called merrily. “Pizza!”

Both Jasper and Kait were smiling as the family pulled out of the car park and drove off together.

The End

Brea took a deep breath, inhaling the scent around her. She loved how the craft store in town smelled, loved how peaceful and tranquil it was within its aisles. Moving slowly she admired all the different shades of paint. They had every color of the rainbow but even more than that,
colors she’d never even thought about before. She felt like a kid in a candy store. Brimming with excitement, she placed a few of the brighter colors into her shopping cart along with the artist’s notepad she’d already picked up.

This was Brea’s weekly release – a time when she could just be herself and be soothed by the world around her. Every Tuesday morning, like clockwork, she’d cycle into town and stop by the large craft store beside the local Walmart. If the sun was shining, it made her trip even better. She’d linger among the aisles for as long as she could before eventually paying for her purchases and cycling back to the home she shared with her brother. The home they had inherited from their parents.

Checking her paint splattered watch, Brea sighed and pushed a loose strand of dark hair back behind her ear. She’d lingered in the store a little too long. If she didn’t leave in the next ten minutes, she risked her brother, Sylar, getting in before she did and that was never good.

With quick, urgent steps Brea approached the checkout.

“Morning, Brea,” Jane, the kind-faced plump woman in the bright red smock grinned at her.

“Morning, Jane,” Brea smiled back. She wished that she had the luxury of time to partake in their usual morning pleasantries. She’d ask about Jane’s children and they’d discuss the weather from the week before. But time was no longer on Brea’s side.

“I’m in kind of a hurry today,” Brea told her apologetically as she frantically shoved her items into a paper bag.

“Oh, honey, don’t you go rushing now. More haste less speed, that’s what my mother always used to say.”

“Hopefully I’ll have some more time with you next week,” Brea said as she handed the cashier her cash. She always had to pay in cash, never on a card. Any purchases made on a card could be monitored. But any cash she got her hands on was her own to spend as she liked. And she loved nothing more than buying art essentials. On sunny days, she’d just be out in the back yard beneath the weeping willow and waste the day away sketching in her notebook. Lately, it was the only thing which bought her any joy.

“You’re too young and pretty to let that brother of yours keep you locked up like a prisoner,” Jane clucked, handing Brea her receipt.

Every week Jane would tell Brea how she needed to get away from her brother, how she needed to live her own life. The whole town had an opinion on Brea and her brother, the poor little kids over on Brixton Road, who lost their parents too young.

Brea had been twelve when they died, Sylar fifteen. He’d dropped out of school and taken any work he could find. He’d saved her from a life in the foster care system. And now that Brea was eighteen she felt like she couldn’t just walk out on her brother when he’d scarified so much to keep her in school, to keep some normalcy in her life.

“I’m not a prisoner,” Brea explained with a thin smile. “Sylar is just…strict.”

“Hmm,” Jane looked unimpressed but her anger melted into a warm smile none the less.

“Well, you have yourself a good day, Brea. And make sure you pop by next Tuesday to see me.”

“I will,” Brea promised as she headed for the door. Outside the sun was burning bright as she hurried over to her bike, pleased with her new purchases.

She pedaled hard and fast back through town, desperate to make it home before Sylar did. He’d been out all night working. She had no idea what he did. He went out on his motorbike at dusk and rarely returned before dawn. She assumed he did shift work somewhere, maybe at one of the factories just outside of town. He made good money. She was always finding wads of cash around the house and on occasion she slipped a twenty dollar bill from the pile to fund her art habit, Sylar didn’t even notice. It was as if he didn’t even know how much money he had.

Brea cycled through the small town which had always been her home with the wind blowing through her short dark hair. The familiar streets looked shabbier than they had when she was a child. It was as if when her parents died the sheen had come off the entire world and she was forced to see things for what they really were.

Finally, Brea reached Brixton Road, a street lined with small wooden bungalows, some in better condition than others. She remembered on bright mornings how her father would turn on the sprinklers and let Brea and Sylar dash beneath the spurts of water until they cooled down. Now the lawn outside their house was overgrown and thick with weeds. Sylar was always promising to get out and mow it, but he never did. Their lawnmower had been pawned long ago, back when times were leaner.

Dismounting her bike, Brea pushed it up towards the car porch and then stopped. Sylar’s bright red motorcycle was parked next to the side of the house, heat still radiating from the engine and causing the air to bend.

“Dammit,” Brea cursed under her breath. She was too late. She’d failed to beat her brother home. She considered hiding her shopping in a nearby bush. The bag was in her hand and she was about to stoop down and conceal it when the mesh door of the house clattered open revealing Sylar behind it. Brea instantly straightened and remained frozen before him, like a deer caught in headlights.

“Where the hell have you been?” he snarled angrily at her. Brea could feel eyes upon her as neighbors pulled back their curtains in the hope of witnessing a heated exchange. She refused to give them such a show. Pushing back her shoulders she confidently approached the house and pushed past Sylar.

Inside, the house was dark and cool thanks to the ceiling fan which was forever rotating above the small lounge. They’d once had a proper air conditioning system but that, like the lawn mower, had been pawned long ago.

“I said where have you been?” Sylar reached for her shoulder and spun her around to face him.

Like his sister, he had dark hair and bright blue eyes which were vivid even in the darkness of the house. But he stood a good foot taller than Brea and he looked down upon her now with anger distorting his chiseled, handsome features. Brea was about to respond when she noticed the dark bruise clouding around his left eye.

“Hey, what happened?” she pointed towards it and Sylar flinched. “You get in an accident at work?”

“Yeah,” he replied gruffly, turning away so that she could no longer see the bruise. “A box fell on me.”

“Want me to take a look at it?”

“No!”

“Seriously, Sylar,” Brea strode away from him and slung her shopping bag down onto the sofa.

“You’re always getting hurt at work. Last week it was that cut on your hand, before that you broke a rib. I swear you should just take out a lawsuit against your employer. No job should be this hazardous.”

“Just drop it,” Sylar ordered briskly. “Where were you?”

He was back on his mission of interrogation.

“I went shopping,” Brea sighed. It was hardly as if she’d committed some terrible crime which was how Sylar was trying to make her feel.

“Shopping?” he echoed incredulously.

“Yes, shopping,” Brea gestured angrily at the bag containing her art supplies. “I needed a few things so I cycled into town. I don’t see why you’re getting so worked up about it.”

“You’re supposed to stay at home,” Sylar declared through clenched teeth. “How many times, Brea? You stay here!”

“Like a prisoner?” Brea shrieked, clutching her bag tightly against her chest. Suddenly she wanted to be as far away from Sylar as possible which meant either retreating to the yard or her small bedroom. She chose the yard.

She started stomping through the open plan living room and kitchen towards the sliding doors, which led out into the modest backyard. Here the lawn was more tamed than the front yard thanks to Brea’s backbreaking efforts with some garden shears she found in the garage. She lacked the stamina to do both lawns.

“Brea!” Sylar boomed her name with such force that some of the glasses in a nearby cabinet shook.

“Sylar,” she sighed as her shoulders slumped and she turned back, one hand resting on the handle for the sliding doors.

“I love you. I love everything you’ve done for me. But I’m eighteen, it’s about time I started having some sort of life.”

“Don’t I care for you?” Sylar demanded angrily. “Don’t I buy you food, keep a roof over your head?”

“Yes,” Brea admitted. “But I’m not a pet dog. I need more than food and shelter. You should let me go out and find a job, that way we’re both taking care of the house you’re not shouldering the burden alone.”

“I’m managing just fine!”

“Are you?” Brea cried heatedly. “Because you’re always beaten up and in the foulest of moods.”

“You’re being ungrateful!” Sylar barked. “Do you have any idea the lengths I go to in order to keep us safe?”

“Safe?” Brea repeated the word, frowning. “Safe from what?”

Sylar sighed in frustration and kicked at the sofa.

“Safe from what?” Brea repeated. In recent years, Sylar seemed to be scared of his own shadow. Each time the doorbell chimed or the phone rang he jumped ten feet in the air and went as white as a ghost. The front door was covered in a dozen different bolts and locks, same for the back. Sylar became obsessed with securing the home as though he feared that there was going to be an imminent zombie apocalypse which only he knew about. 

“Just…” Sylar ran his hands through his dark hair. He smelled of petrol and cigar smoke. Brea was becoming increasingly determined to follow him to work one night and see what kind of a factory he was actually working at.

“Just trust me,” he eventually conceded. “I’ve always looked out for us, haven’t I?”

“Yeah.”

“Then just trust me.”

“Trust goes both ways you know,” Brea told him as she yanked open the sliding doors. The dense heat of the day came tumbling in around her, challenging the overhead fan which continued to spin in its never-ending orbit.

She stepped outside and breathed in the hot, clean air. Behind her, she heard a door slam as Sylar finally abandoned the argument to go and lick his wounds. Brea failed to understand how he could worry about her so much. Sure they lived in a slightly dangerous part of town, but nowhere was without the risk of petty crime. She was basically an adult now and she couldn’t go on with Sylar insisting on treating her like a child.

Brea lay her head against the thick trunk of the willow tree in the yard and reached into her bag for her new sketch pad and paints. She took a deep breath and let her mind clear. And then she started to draw. She drew ornate skulls adorned with flowers and jewels, she drew magical fairies who danced across the garden on luminous wings. She filled pages and pages with her drawings and she only stopped when a shadow spread across the page. Squinting up against the sun she saw Sylar standing above her, holding a fresh glass of iced tea. Condensation clung to the glass as the ice cubes swirled noisily within the amber liquid.

“I thought you might want this,” he handed it to her. “Especially if you’re going to insist on spending the day outside.”

“Thanks,” Brea smiled up at him in gratitude.

“I’m heading to bed for a bit,” Sylar told her. Dark circles had blended with his blooming bruise to make his eyes appear hooded and sinister.

“Promise me you’ll behave while I rest?”

“I promise,” Brea told him sweetly. “And I’ll even stick a pizza in the oven for when you wake up.”

“Thanks, sis,” Sylar sauntered back towards the house, his shoulders slumped. Brea watched him with a heavy heart. She knew that she couldn’t let him keeping supporting them both. Whether he liked it or not, it was high time she got a job of her own and started paying her way.