Bruised (A GTA 5 Trevor Philips FanFiction)

The Scorpion and the Fly

For the rest of the ride back to Sandy Shores, my mind was in complete disarray, trying to make sense of everything I had just learned from Trevor. So he'd fucked Cathy a month prior to ever meeting me, she'd made some maniacal scene when he tried to leave and her cousin, Lee, tried to intervene with knife in tow and now...he was dead. Had been dead this whole fucking time. Who was Cathy talking about killing when we were on the roof of the trailer last night? It was implied that it had been Lee, but as I again looked over at Trevor, I came to the realization that it must be him that she was after. Perhaps in her lunacy, Cathy drifted from past to present, still thinking Lee was alive at one point while trying to get in contact with him on the phone and then switching back to some sort of revenge tactic aimed at Trevor for murdering a member of her family. I was kicking myself for ever having left Ron alone with the likes of her.

At last, the Liquor Ace pulled into view and Trevor hurriedly parked his truck in front. We both hopped out as Michael and Franklin also pulled in from behind, parking their own vehicles and getting out to meet us standing by the store entrance.

"Okay, we don't know what the hell we're walking into here", I said to them, peering through the display window into the darkness within. "Everyone, please...be careful. I have my knife on me in case things get ugly, which I'm pretty certain they will."

"I'm packing, too", Michael replied, pulling back his sports jacket to reveal a gun nestled inside a holster strapped across his chest.

"Same here", Franklin added. "Living in Los Santos my whole life, shit, you gotta keep packin' heat."

"If anyone's killing Ron, it's gonna be me, not some ginger bitch!", Trevor threw out there, reaching to open the front door. "Let's fucking do this."

The four of us marched in a line towards the back of the liquor store and through the stairway leading to the second floor. Just before we ascended the stairs, I stopped Trevor, who'd been leading us.

"Let me go up first", I ordered. "I got us into this mess. Let me be the first to face the music."

Trevor let out a low snarl before stepping aside, not relishing my putting myself in harm's way but knowing better than to question me. 

"We're right behind you", he informed, staying close by my heels.

With Franklin and Michael bringing up the rear, the four of us proceeded to climb that old stairway, turning to wander down the worn corridor leading into the meth lab. Our combined steps caused the weathered floor to creak noisily under our weight. Before even seeing her, I heard Cathy call out, "It's about damn time."

Rounding the corner into the dilapidated living room area which served as the meth lab, the first thing I saw was Ron tied to a chair, shaking and scared, blood seeping from a slash wound across his cheek. A bloodstained shard of glass lay at his feet. The instant he saw me, his eyes lit up with hope. Behind him stood Cathy, holding up a syringe filled with what I assumed was Bruise in one hand and a lit cigarette in the other, smiling in a deranged manner that contorted her normally fair features. Her docile facade had been completely abandoned.

I was the first to walk into the lab, subtly holding my hand up by my side, indicating for the others to pause where they were. Cathy hadn't seen any of them yet.

"Let Ron go", I demanded, taking a slow step towards her. She immediately pressed the tip of the needle against Ron's throat, and I heard him groaning in sheer terror. I stopped in my tracks. "How the hell did you even get him here?"

"A little bit of charm", she responded, widening her already disturbing grin. "Once I had him take a seat, your sedatives did the rest of the work."