Breath of the Future

Chapter 2

Yes, my dad was a criminal, but he was a good person. He wasn't violent like Trevor was, but he was calculated and very intelligent. He mostly ran scams against other scammers. There was this one guy, Simeon, who was his main target.

    Simeon was a car dealer who would sell cars to people on credit, and then illegally repossess the cars, claiming the buyer never paid. My dad would often send in his men to buy cars from him on a payment plan, and then sell them to those in need, like a backwards Robin Hood. Simeon never tracked down any of what my dad was doing since he had at least forty people working with him, all of which used fake names and paid cash.

    My dad made at least half a million doing that before his final run. When he sold the final car, that dreaded final car, he realized he had sold it to a couple gang members that knew Simeon and was unfortunately killed in the shootout that ensued.

    I met Trevor at my dad's funeral and I assumed he had been one of my dads workers, since he showed up to the funeral crying and stone drunk. I attempted to kick him out, but when he was finally able to get a word in, I listened.

    Trevor took me under his wing soon after, explaining that he needed some help running his business, Trevor Philips ent. I agreed since I needed the help to pay the rent on my first apartment that was just on the border of Los Santos. I loved my parents' cute little house, I really did. But I couldn't stand to live there after my dad passed, so I moved out as soon as I could.

    Working for Trevor was not easy, but he always swore to protect me. A lot of what his crew did was mostly stealing guns and selling illegal explosives made out of car batteries. I'll admit, it certainly wasn't the best life, but it kept my lights on and water running and fridge stocked, and Trevor never laid a finger on me.

    I agreed to do the heist after Michael offered me 40% of the cut, and that was that. Thankfully, this mission seemed much more organized than the last one I'd been out on. Trevor and I attempted a bank robbery two years prior, and the cops showed up. We all made a clean getaway except for the poor folks in our crew who were shot. It was every man for himself after that. I went into hiding after that and "officially" retired. I got my remote job and made a lot of money doing that. I bought a nice little house, a nice car, and made myself as comfortable as possible. I never heard from Trevor again after the bank robbery accident, and that was just as well.

    That was, until that fateful Wednesday.

    "I'm not sure I can stay where I'm at right now, not until I'm sure we will make a clean getaway. I don't want to have to start all over and abandon my house." I muttered, pushing the straw in my drink around.

    Michael, Trevor, Franklin, and I were sitting around a table in the old garment factory discussing our plans.

    "You'll be fine." Trevor snapped, eager to get on with the conversation.

    "Oh my God," Franklin sighed, burying his face in his hands.

    "I'm being serious, Trevor. I cannot be traced back to where I live by the police if this goes south. I'll take some money out of my savings for a hotel for a little while, it's fine."

    "Hey, no...no one is going to be staying in any crusty hotels in Los Santos over this." Michael chimed in.

    "You can stay with me for the time being, I've got a big house. You'll be fine."

    "Aren't you worried about being found out?" I asked.

    "I've faked my own death, no one will ever find me out. It's probably the safest option anyway."