Insanity x2 (A Trevor Philips Story)

3: Michael, Franklin, and Trevor

I called Carlos five times to no avail. Where was he? I was starting to get worried, my fingers trembling each time I clicked on his name to call again.

I was in a trance of endless ringing, but I snapped out of it to make another phone call. Lester.

I sighed and called Lester now. He answered. "Hello?" he questioned almost in disbelief.

"Lester. I'm awake." I was heading over to the nearest parking lot. I was about to get a new car.

"Took you long enough. . . Some stuff happened while you were gone," Lester sighed. "Big surprise there."

"I know," I sighed. "Fuck! Where's Carlos?"

"Carlos died a week ago."

"Wait, what?" I screamed, feeling myself start to hyperventilate. I had to lean onto the nearest solid object around me. The wall of the hospital.  "What the fuck is going on, Lester?" I felt my legs start to go numb, a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach, and my body started to sweat. I was going into panic mode. I was out for two years. . . Two fucking years!

"Calm the fuck down! Carlos took over the business after you fell into your coma, and once the Ballas caught wind of who exactly was running the organization, they attacked and killed him a week ago. Since then, I have been handling your bank and shipments, and as payment I have removed 50k for making sure you didn't go bankrupt while hospitalized. Your welcome."

The Ballas.

I clenched my fist, slamming it against the side of the hospital, letting out a ferocious scream as I started to continue my venture to find the parking lot. I was no longer in pain, that was all masked by my crazed surge of anger. I could feel my blood pressure rise just at the sound of that damned rival gang who had taken me out.

The Ballas.

I let out another scream of anger, causing Lester to make a tiny sound in surprise, and I was sure he could feel the anger radiating off of me through the phone call.

"We need to kill as many Ballas as we can." I growled. "Do you have any guys or gals to back me up? I'll pay them well. I just need those motherfuckers to pay for what they did to Carlos, and to me, and to my fucking business."

"I can call a few people. Meet at my house."

"Okay," I spoke, hanging up the phone. I felt the rage inside of me bubble.

No one kills my right hand man, no one knocks me out, and no one steals my business from me.

I walked up to a parked Dominator and smashed open the window. The alarm sounded as I started to hotwire the car. I got inside the car and drove to my old house, praying it was still there.

--

Carlos had taken care of my house. He had taken care of my cars, and even kept them shiny and waxed. I felt a pang of regret and guilt for not talking to Carlos before I "died", I knew he had cared for me and I ignored it. He did all of this for me even after the two-year mark had passed since my coma. I checked the date. It was two years and three months since the coma.

He was the best right-hand man a person could ask for, and a good shoulder to lean on. It'd be a while until I found a headstrong man or woman like Carlos to assist me, and it would be even longer before I could forgive myself for what happened to him. I didn't ask him to take on my business, but he did it anyways in order to support me. He would have made a good boyfriend, although I never saw him in that light, but I had started to regret the fact that I never made any moves. That I never gave him a shot. It just took a special type of man to spark my interests, and it wasn't him. He would have been better for me than my "type," but it wasn't my choice to decide now anyways. It was all up in the air, the "what if"s and the seared image of Rosa Reyes, and the fact that her father was now buried under. I hadn't been there to protect him, although he would have argued it was his duty to protect me. After ten years of complete loyalty, I should have given him a chance. He was a loyal man, a loyal worker, and a great father.