Bruised (A GTA 5 Trevor Philips FanFiction)

They Call It "Bruise"

The drive to Los Santos always seemed to take forever whenever I ended up going straight through the highway, so I often times headed for the back roads. They were winding and quite high, but totally worth the leisurely drive, in my opinion. Scenic and remote, it made the journey that much more enjoyable as I passed by lakes and mountains nestled in emerald forests in all their breathtaking glory. Out of curiosity, I glanced at the rear view mirror to see an old, dark blue SUV puttering along about three car lengths behind me. I instantly recognized it as Ron's and couldn't help but smile to myself for anticipating Trevor's actions. Never did I let Ron ever know that I was always aware of his presence, though. Throw him a bone, let the poor guy think he's awesome at stealth.

It was almost five by the time I arrived and made my way through Los Santos towards Franklin's impressive pad. When it came into view, I parked my car just outside and walked towards the front door. I could hear Franklin's rottweiler, Chop, barking from somewhere down the back steps towards the pool area. Chop was actually Franklin's friend Lamar's dog, but Lamar had asked Franklin to take care of him for reasons I wasn't too sure about, but never questioned. In the meantime, Chop was residing in style here with Franklin up a literal hill in affluent Vinewood Hills. He was a sweet dog, though, despite leaving massive piles of shit everywhere. His training seemed to be a bit slow-going.

I knocked on the door and waited while listening to Chop's incessant barking, more likely aimed at my visiting. Franklin promptly swung the door open, dressed in a white sleeveless shirt and black and green basketball shorts and sneakers.

"Hey girl, s'up?", he welcomed, greeting me with a gentle fist bump before stepping aside to let me in. Closing the door behind me, he then led me toward the living room where we both took a seat in front of the blaring television. I set my black leather bag on the couch and retrieved my stash of weed from it, tossing it onto the glass coffee table. "Damn, not wanting to waste any time, are ya?" Franklin asked with a small chuckle.

"I've got a lot on my mind and really just want to mellow out for a bit", I responded. He was about to go fetch his bong when I stopped him. "I brought my pipe, if that's cool", I added. "Or we can roll a joint. Never been big on the bongs. I think they're more of a guy thing."

"Never really thought about it, but yeah, the pipe's good", Franklin replied. I guess Chop's persistent barking was beginning to get on his nerves because he suddenly yelled out "Damn, Chop, chill the fuck out!"

"Is it cool to let him in with us?" I asked. "I like seeing him whenever I come here. Besides, he's probably barking at Ron parked somewhere nearby."

"Oh shit, Ron with you too?" Franklin questioned as he went to open the sliding glass doors towards the back of the kitchen. "Hey, Chop-Chop, come here, boy!" he called out. I could hear Chop's claws clicking on the steps as he raced upstairs and, through the large wall of windows, saw him run along the long wooden deck to greet Franklin first, then scampered over towards me, his tail happily wagging while excitedly panting. He immediately brought a smile to my face when he rested his large head in my lap, waiting to be scratched behind the ears by my long nails that he seemed to adore. Of course I willingly obliged. I'm such a sucker for dogs.

"Trevor sent him to make sure I got here safely", I told Franklin. "But I don't know he's tailing me. And neither do you."

"Gotcha", Franklin breezily replied. He settled himself down next to me on the couch again while I reached to open my bag and pull out my small pipe.

"Please, fill up and do the honors", I said, handing the pipe over while simultaneously scratching under Chop's chin. Franklin began sorting through my stash of weed to prepare a tasty bowl to pass around.