Hidden Identity-A Trevor Philips Fanfiction

Chapter 3

This work shift couldn't have gone on any longer without me losing my patience. I managed to snatch a few bottles of expired percs while the maggots weren't looking, however. I looked at my phone as 6:00 struck, checking my recent texts for any important information, whether it be from my new father figure or my lover.
My lover never really paid me much attention, unless he wanted to fuck, there was a club meeting I was needed at, or if he needed help in the lab. We had met at a bar in Sandy Shores, where he proceeded to buy me whiskey shots until I was shitfaced. Somewhere in that time period we got matching tattoos, had sex in the club parking lot in the back of my car, and talked business.
I sighed, stroking the eagle logo on my right shoulder blade. I really don't know why I stayed with him, maybe because the sex was good, or the thrill I received from illegal activity. Maybe it was the fact that I longed for my father who I barely remember.
My thoughts were interrupted by my phone vibrating in my lap. I quickly checked the message.
Johnny: "hey babe, eta?"
I quickly texted back.
"Sorry, just leaving work. 10 mins."
I quickly grabbed my bag and waved farewell to my employees, slinging the bag over my shoulder as I bolted out the door. I quickly started my car and headed for the lab.
~
"Bout time you showed up." The chef of the operation groaned as I stepped out of my car. I checked the time on my phone. I was only 4 minutes late.
The chef was quickly corrected as Johnny pinned him against the wall with his calloused hand.
"Hey now, we only speak to Bryn with respect. She's the reason we're going to run TPI out of competition in los santos."
I blushed at his comment as he released his worker who ran for the "kitchen."
I grabbed my bag from my car and unloaded the goods, tossing them to Johnny, who loaded them into a crate.
"Damn babe, you're a champ. This is just enough to get us through the initial batches. TPI doesn't even stand a chance."
"It's just a days work, love."
I smirked as he set the crate aside, the chef slowly stepping out to grab the crate and run back to the kitchen to conduct business.
Johnny stepped towards me, his calloused hand caressing my cheek. All of a sudden he grabbed me and flipped me around, pinning me against the wall with a thud. He surely wasn't the gentle one. He leaned down and began kissing me passionately. I reached a hand out to tug on his brown, greasy hair. He moved down to my neck, making me moan in anticipation. He stopped, pulling away from me, excitement filling the air.
"Whatcha say, babe? Wanna take it in the bathroom?"
I bit my lip in thought, then sighed, realizing I hadn't updated Mr. DeSanta on my "working over" status.
"Can't tonight babe. Tomorrow, I promise."
Johnny groaned in annoyance, letting go of me and adjusting his pants.
"You just know how to kill the fun, don't ya, Bryn?"
I turned to leave and about that time he reared back and smacked my ass, me yelping in surprise. I was sure he left a print. I giggled as I got in my car and headed towards my new home.
~
I entered the door quietly, but was greeted by Michael, who was up watching TV.
"Hey kid, where have you been?"
He whipped his head, a questioning yet concerned look on his face. I quickly came up with a lie.
"The inventory was wrong at work so I had to stay and recount all of the narcotics. Then I had to file the paperwork and call corporate to report the inventory mistake."
Michael seemed to think about it for a second, then nodded, a slight smile on his face.
"Ah paperwork. I remember those days. Next time just text me that you'll be late so I'm not worried."
"Yes sir, sorry for worrying you Mr. DeSanta."
I made my way up the stairs and to my room, where I was stopped by the creak of the door opening behind me. I quickly turned around and was greeted by Jim.
"Oh uh, hey Bryn. Was just wondering if you wanted to, ya know, partake in this?" He motioned to the bag of green in his hand, seemingly nervous, and my eyes lit up. A smile crept across my face.
"Sure, Jim."
Jim's expression seemed to soften as he opened his door and stepped aside to let me in. His room reeked of pot, alcohol and Burger Shot, but that's okay, it felt more like home than any of my recent endeavors. I sat down on his bed as he passed me the bag and his bong. Damn, we were going hard tonight. But that's okay, I'm sure this would ease the anticipation of tomorrow's day off and my eventful date with Johnny.