Insanity x2 (A Trevor Philips Story)

18: Bedroom Conversations

I woke up to a hand pushing me gently. I groaned and buried my face into the pillow that was underneath me. I was exhausted.

"Lucy," the voice of the person who nudged me spoke, I recognized the voice and lifted my head up, turning to look up at him. Trevor.

I wordlessly wrapped my arms around him, pulling him alongside me as I buried my face into his chest. "Trevor, how did it go?"

He grumbled. "Brad was buried in Michael's grave."

This woke me up now. I sat up and looked at his face, I could barely make out his expression in the darkness. I placed my hand on his cheek. "I—. . . Fuck Michael," I growled now, I was angry. What kind of friend was that? How could he keep something like that from Trevor? "I—I mean, I guess it's because he has a family, but to not tell you, to betray your loyalty, I—. . ." I shook my head. I was too angered to process words at this point.

"Oh, Michael won't be bothering us for a while," Trevor responded. I eyed him curiously.

"What do you mean?"

He leaned forward and placed a kiss on my lips. "Let's just say he's taken care of."

I eyed him for a moment. "Does Franklin know?"

"He'll find out."

I folded my arms. "And you're okay with that? With Michael dead?"

"Oh, they won't kill Michael," Trevor spoke. He paused. "Yet. Knowing the kid, he'll go save him."

I put my head in my hands and curled up in a ball on the bed and let out a long groan. "God, I hate today," I muttered.

"What, relaxing was too hard for ya?" Trevor spoke, and I could tell he was rolling his eyes.

"No, my parents called."

He fell silent now. He knew what this meant. He knew what they did, how they were, how shitty my childhood was.

"And?" he questioned a bit harshly.

"They're coming here on Wednesday for their 'second chance' at parenting."

"You're fuckin' thirty-four!" He grabbed me and pulled me into his chest, a hand resting on my ass now.

I giggled now. "Well, I mean, not parenting, per se, but our relationship. After fifteen years they want to come here and try to fix what they did. They want to meet you, and—"

"Woah, woah woah woah, sweet cheeks. They want to meet me?" his body had stiffened under me, he gently nudged me off of him. "Why?"

"They asked me if I was in a relationship."

"I'm not exactly the type of guy you introduce to your parents, sweetie."

"Do you think you have to impress them?" I questioned. "And, also, hon, I do the same things you do for a living, the only difference is I'm a chick."

"Yeah, a smokin' hot babe and I'm here, smokin' hot as well, of course, but. . . I look crazy compared to you."

I straddled his hips now, my hands running up and down his chest. "Fuck what anyone says. I love you."

He grinned. "Aw, how did I land someone like you?" his hand slid into my shirt.

"Pure fuckin' luck," I mused, grinning, I placed a kiss on the tip of his nose. "So, any crazy parents of yours I have to meet?"

He automatically tensed and let me go. He sat on the edge of his bed now. "She's not coming around any time soon," he spoke. He sighed, running his hands through his patchy hair.

I hesitated, then crawled over to him, resting my head on his shoulder. I decided to change the subject. "So where did you learn how to pilot?"

"What?" he questioned.

"Where did you learn how to pilot?"

"Oh, I joined the US Air Force. It was great and all, but just a few fuckin' days before a mission this evil fuckin' shrew performed a stupid 'psychological evaluation' on me, and I was discharged. So I never got to see any action."

I frowned. Wow, nice job Lucy, keep bringing up depressing shit to him.

"I'm trying to figure out how to fly my product to neighboring states," I spoke. "I mean, a van full of drugs can only get so far without getting checked."

He lay himself back on the bed and pulled me against his chest. "Trevor Philips Industries could assist you on your, 'quest', to transport cocaine," he spoke. "Just speak with the CEO."

"Okay," I spoke, I turned away to look at the wall, and whipped back around to look at him in the eyes. "Hello, I'd like to speak with the CEO of Trevor Philips Industries."

"I'll go get him," he spoke.

He closed his eyes, and opened them back up.

"Oh, hi there, how can I help you? And all that bullshit."

I giggled.

"I would like to ask if you could assist me with flight travel for my packages, my oh so heavy packages of. . . Fun."

"Oh, well, let me check my schedule." He paused. "Okay, it looks like we can have a shipment of yours shipped out tomorrow morning. Where to, sweetums?"

I grinned. "I'll give you the layout once I get back from my house tomorrow. All my shipping plans are there. Could you teach me how to fly?"

He looked at me questioningly. "Er, babe, as much as I would love to sit next to you as you potentially kill us with your zero piloting skills and knowledge, I'll have to pass."

I pouted. "Well, can I rely on you to be my pilot all the time?"

He grinned. "That's what I'm best at, baby, you know Uncle T will get you wherever you wanna go," he poked me. I laughed and poked him back.

"Okay, okay, I trust you. But I swear, you let me down even once, and heads will roll."

"Is that a promise?" he questioned.

"Oh, yeah it is."

"Mmm, I love it," he spoke, pinning me down on the bed under me. "I love you, you little fuckin' psychopath," he kissed down my neck now.

"I'm not that psycho," I snickered.