Philips (Sequel to De Santa)

Chapter Seven

"Chels?" Jim asked as I made my way out of the office. I looked panicked...I was panicking, but I was trying my best to not to look like something was wrong, a skill I have yet to perfect, sadly. "Chels, what's wrong?"

"Nothing," I answered. "Nothing's wrong, I just gotta wait here for a minute."

"Why?"

"I just need to talk to them, you can take Dad home if you want, I'll drive his car."

"I'm not leaving you here, Chels, this gang territory."

"And you're gonna protect me?"

"I can try." Jim looked back towards the office. "How'd it go with Hannah?"

"Fine," I nodded. "Fine. Fine. Everything went fine."

"You sure?"

"Totally!"

"What happened?"

"Oh, she's not gonna say anything."

"You sure?"

"Definitely sure."

"Where is she?"

"You know, Jim, you ask a lot of fucking questions."

"Chels, what the fuck is going on?" Just as I turned to Jim, Franklin's motorcycle pulled into the back parking lot, followed by a large, windowless cargo van. "What are they doing here?"

"Hey, Franklin," I gently waved, ignoring Jim's question.

"Hey," Franklin nodded before pulling off his helmet and turning the motorcycle off. "You, uh...you look different."

"Yeah, thought it'd be best to change it up some."

"Well, it works. Didn't recognize you much." Lester and Paige climbed out of the van, followed by two men who piled out the sliding door.

"Chelsea," Lester gave me a curt nod as he hobbled towards me.

"Lester," I held out my hand and gave his hand a shake. "Thanks for coming, sorry that I interrupted your game."

"It's fine. I had to wait for Paige and my men to show up, so I finished the level I was on. A Righteous Slaughter tournament is coming up and I need to make sure I bring my A game."

"Lester," Paige interrupted. "She didn't call you here to talk video games."

"Right," Lester cleared his throat. "This is Gustavo and Karim," Lester motioned to the men as they headed inside the office. "My associates."

"I thought I just asked for you, Paige, and Franklin?" I asked.

"I don't do cleanups."

"Cleanups?" Jim asked. "Chels, what is going on?"

"Go home, Jim," I insisted.

"But—"

"I said go home!" The office door suddenly opened and the two men exited the building, each one carrying one end of the body bag. Jim's eyes widened with horror.

"C-Chelsea...what did you—"

"Don't ask questions, Jim...not unless you're ready to hear the truth." I turned to Jim and gave him a smile. "Everythin' is gonna be fine, alright? Just take Dad and go home." Jim didn't nod, didn't respond, just grabbed onto Dad's arm and pulled him to the car. Dad watched the two men with confusion.

"Wait, what—where's Hannah?" Dad asked.

"She's fine," I lied. "Just go home and I'll explain everything when you sober up, okay?" Reluctantly, Dad followed Jim and they both got into my car, driving away a few moments later.