Breath of the Future

Chapter 25

*Ring ring*

I picked up the phone off the side table near the pool. It had been a couple weeks since...the incident. My leg healed and I was pretty much back to normal, but the guilt about the whole thing remained. Steve was dead and buried now, and Dave took care of the rest.

"History is written by the living" he said.

Dave worked around and blamed the whole thing on Steve and Sanchez, but instructed us to lay low for a little while longer. I had mostly been relaxing by the pool and watching movies with Michael, I didn't go out much. Trevor didn't either and he only called a couple times to check in after the shootout before retreating to Sandy Shores once again.

I picked up my cell phone off the table next to the beach chairs and glanced at the name. Speak of the devil, Trevor. I sighed and answered and was met with a grumble on the other end of the line.

"What's going on, T?"

"We've got a problem. Meet me at the Rhodium Pawn Shop in Morningwood."

"Why? What kind of problem?"

"Can't say here, they're always listening. Just...meet me."

*click*

I sighed and dragged myself indoors, chasing out of my swimsuit. Michael caught me walking out of the guest bedroom and seemed confused.

"Where on earth are you going?"

"I have to meet Trevor."

"What on earth for?"

"I don't know, he didn't say."

"I wouldn't trust that this is a good idea if Trevor won't even tell you what it is."

"Whatever, I trust him. I'll be back before dark and if not, I'll give you a call."

I was about to go downstairs but Michael grabbed my arm, he wasn't finished.

"Do you have your gun?" He asked.

"Of course," I nodded.

"I'll see you soon, okay?"

I took off down the stairs and out the front door, jumping into my car and starting it up. The drive to Morningwood was short and mundane, I didn't even bother to turn on the radio. I rolled the windows down and let the wind whip through my hair to quell the heat inside the car. It was my fault for parking out in the direct sun.

Whipping into the parking lot of the store, I looked around for Trevor's truck. He had parked way in the back behind a dumpster and was pissing on a pile of trash. I groaned and looked away.

"You're gross, dude." I muttered.

He turned around and zipped up his pants, lumbering over to me.

"Hey, gotta do what you gotta do. You'd do it too if you could."

I shrugged and rolled my eyes, crossing my arms over my chest.

"So what's this about? I'd like to get this done with and go home as soon as possible."

He chuckled and shook his head as he paced in circles for a moment.

"We have a big problem. Chef dropped out of the crew for TPI."

"What? Why? Is he coming back?" I asked.

"I'm not sure. He said he had some business to take care of south of the border and didn't specify what it was, drug moving I presume. Either way, I'm planning something and we need to fill his spot."