I Prefer the Bad Boys

Where Did They Go?

It's been two years. I got a job at an office and I test the technology and check the wires of the stupid-ass products that my immature boss comes up with. It's insanely boring but it pays really well. I started going to the gym too. I would lift and practice combat there because it kind of reminds me of working out with my boys.

Speaking of which, I still talk to them. I didn't cut them out of my life; They're my boys, I couldn't. However, we don't talk as much as I want to. Maybe once or twice a month because of the drive from Los Santos to Las Vegas is quite long and they don't use phones anymore due to the fear of getting caught by the cops.

Actually, I haven't talked to them in months now that I think about it. What if something happened to them? Did they get caught again? Are they hurt? Are they even still alive?

I took a deep breath and shook my head. I was just thinking the worst; they're most likely fine. I pulled into my driveway and exited my car.

It was a nice day out. The sun was taking its place on the horizon and the used to be white clouds were a lovely pink with an orange and purple sky to show it off even more.

I slung my work bag over my shoulder and walked to my door, unlocking it. I pushing it open and drug myself inside. I turned on the lights and threw my bag in the chair while I did the same with myself on the couch.

I wanted to sleep, but I couldn't. The only thing I could think about was my boys being in danger. I sat up and dug my phone out of my pocket. I went to the app I made when I created BRIAN. Its so I can call him whenever I need to and it calls inside his head so when he answers it, no one else can hear him. I entered the password and when it showed his contact, I pressed the call button and put it to my ear.

Ring...

Ring...

Ring...

Ring...

Ri-"N/n."

I stopped breathing. That wasn't BRIAN and that wasn't anyone's voice that I recognized.

The voice laughed like it just won the lottery. It was a man with a deep and smooth voice. An American accent and he didn't sound old.

I didn't say anything, but I guess that was a sign for him to continue.

He giggled, "I've been waiting for you to call." And with that, he hung up.

I couldn't move. Images of Tyler, Craig, Marcel, and BRIAN hurt or even worst was the only thing that I could think of.

But then I thought about his voice again. He didn't sound familiar nor did sound new. I've probably passed him or something. Then I thought of what he said. 'I've been waiting for you to call.'

I widened my eyes and threw my phone at the wall and watched it shatter. I ran to my room and packed all the things I needed to leave. That motherfucker is tracking me.

I packed all the newest things I've been working on; things for all of us. They were all small things like pens, glasses, and gum even. They all fit into my backpack along with my knives, guns, and money while my clothes all fitted into my duffle bag. I wrapped the backpack around me and carried the duffle bag by my side. I looked around, checking if I need anything else.

My eyes stopped on a picture Marcel took. He was holding the camera, Craig and BRIAN were posing like the nerds they are, and Tyler, who was in the background, just happened to look up at the perfect moment. The best thing about the picture was that they were all literally in nothing but boxers. I smiled and relaxed a bit. Every time I look at that picture, I feel better.