Fire Meet Gasoline

Part Twelve

We pulled up at a nice home in Vinewood Hills. It has to be worth at least a million dollars. "You're guy lives here?"

"Yes. I bought it, rather than having money laying around, I invested in a place for one of the best guys I have ever worked with." Lester responded. "Eden, I take care of my people. Haven't I told you that?"

"I fucking get it. I just don't understand why you had to tell me about Eddie like that. And distracted me."

"Let's move on. Wanna come in?" I nodded and followed him inside.

We walked through the house decorated with modern furniture. The gorgeous house made me forget about being annoyed with Lester. Until I remembered the scummy place he got me to stay in.

We turned the corner. A black man sat on gorgeous sofa, looking at his phone. Lester cleared his throat loudly, and he looked up at us.

"Shit, Lester. I didn't even hear y'all come in. Have a seat." I sat down still admiring the mansion. "You like it?" He asked me.

"Its incredible."

"I bet L put you up in a motherfucker as nice as this, huh?"

"Actually no."

Lester spoke up, "I didn't know her. Once she proves herself, she will get an upgrade."

"What was Trevor's upgrade."

"He got to live." The man laughed. I didn't laugh, and he tensed up a bit. "So baby, what's your name?"

"Eden. So are you gonna help us or not?"

"Don't you want to know my name?"

"I learned that names don't matter. You might die anyway."

"Eden!" Lester snapped at me.

"What?"

"If you want your boyfriend back, your gonna play nice." I nodded, and then he stood. "Eden, this is Franklin. He will do the driving until we reach Sandy Shores. Sound good?"

"Alright." I agreed.

"So your the girl that is into Trevor? We know the same fucking Trevor Philips?"

"Save it. He scares the fuck out of me. But I like it."

We got in the car, and began the drive to Sandy Shores. I never went there before. Mostly because of the dry heat. And also because my aunt said it was full of drug addicts. And men like Trevor, I guess.

"I heard from your brother. He said that I am using you do to you being vulnerable because you are depressed."

"He fucking said that?" 

"I didn't know you were depressed. You might be more cut out for a life of crime than you think."

"I didn't think it was a need to know fact about me. And I actually ran into him today in my apartment. He found the gun, threatened to call the cops, I locked him in the bathroom..."

"A depressed sociopath in love with a bipolar psychopath?" Franklin laughed.

"She isn't a sociopath."  Lester disagreed.

We rode in silence until we reached the destination. Franklin got out of the car, and walked into the trailer. Lester just looked at me before saying, "What's wrong?"

I was confused. I asked, "What is a sociopath?"

"Well, its a person with a personality disorder manifesting itself in extreme antisocial attitudes and behavior and a lack of conscience. You are not a sociopath. Franklin is, but you aren't."

"How am I not?"

"Sociopath's feel no emotion. No remorse with their actions. If I hand Franklin a gun and tell him to shoot someone, he will do it. No questions asked. He won't give that person a second thought."

"Well what is a psychopath then?"

"Everything that makes Trevor... Trevor."

"Is it possible for him to have emotion? Like... loving emotion?"

"I don't want to get technical. Let's go inside and get moving."

"Okay, Lester."

We got out of the car, and I looked at the trailer. I could't believe having no emotion got Franklin a beautiful mansion, and a man who would do anything for someone he cared about had to live in a filthy trailer in Sandy Shores. He preferred it this way. But its not what he deserves.