Insanity x2 (A Trevor Philips Story)

4: Passed out Trevor

I decided to take my Rusty Rebel out for a spin.

It was completely customized, and didn't look as gross once I had customized it a bunch. It was pink now, a color I wasn't too fond of but it looked cute on the truck. I had an upgraded engine for it and everything. It was a beast to drive, and wicked fast for a truck.

I was driving down the hill to get to the bar, but I stopped when I saw Trevor slumped against a building. I parked next to him and got out. He didn't even notice a truck had parked next to him.

I got down to tap his shoulder, and he jolted awake. "Wha, what?!" he shouted. I flinched.

"Woah, buddy. You good?"

He rubbed his face tiredly. "Yep, I'm good. What are you doing here?"

"I was just exploring in my Rebel and found you sitting on the side of the road. Want me to take you home?"

He laughed. "I live in Sandy Shores, but I've been staying at my friend's cousin's house in Vespucci Beach."

"I don't mind taking you there," I spoke. I headed to the truck and got into the driver's seat, waiting for him. He got into the truck and sat next to me, letting out a loud groan as I put Vespucci Beach into the GPS system, and started to drive.

"So where are you from originally?" Trevor questioned. I frowned, I didn't know he really gave a rats ass.

"Las Venturas. I fucking hate it here, though, too many people. Self-entitled sonsa bitches."

Trevor snorted. "You're right. That's why I prefer my lil cozy home in Sandy Shores. Not so many people. I miss my trailer, man."

"Sounds amazing," I spoke. "You should take me there sometime. I'd love to check it out. Anything is better than this dump."

"You got that right."

I bit my lip, shifting my gaze to look at him. This is the type of guy Carlos would try to protect me from. I glanced over at him, then chuckled.
"What's so funny? Are you laughing at me? Huh?"

I smiled. "No, it's just interesting. Owner of a huge meth business and owner of a huge cocaine business in the same vehicle. Feels like we're total badasses."

Trevor turned his head to look at me, he didn't say a word, he just kept his eyes glued to me. I swallowed nervously, my gaze shifting underneath his dominant one.

"Huh, I guess you're right," he spoke. "So do you think more Ballas will come after you?"

"Not for a while," I spoke. "We killed at least half of their gang, if not more. Vagos probably have more gang members than them, now. They understand how pissed off I am. I nearly tore that last Balla to shreds after the shootout. Stupid motherfucker," I shook my head, my hands gripping the wheel a bit tighter. "Fuck with my shit. . .I'll teach them."

From the corner of my eye, I saw a small smirk tug at Trevor's lips, he turned his head to look out of the window again. "Cute little truck you have here."

"Gotta love trucks, right?" I laughed. Wow, I sound like a moron. We started to get closer to Vespucci. "You know, I wasn't kidding about the Sandy Shores thing. I'd like to go there once." I turned to look at him, my truck starting to slow down as we reached Vespucci.

"Turn left here, and then make another right," Trevor spoke. I did as he said, and parked in front of the apartment he pointed at. He stepped out of the truck and walked around to my door. "We can go to Sandy Shores tomorrow. I have to go talk to my business partner."

"Sounds good," I spoke, my eyes locked with his. We both stared at each other for a while before he frowned.

"You look like you wanna fuck me," he spoke.

"You may be right," I spoke, winking before driving off, feeling my cheeks heat up as I laughed softly.