Hidden Identity-A Trevor Philips Fanfiction

Chapter 10

Everyone turned to the new presence in the room. The presence was a relatively tall, middle aged man, wearing a rugged shirt that was barely white anymore, blue jeans and steel toed boots. The man had receding brown hair, chocolate brown eyes, and various tattoos. The first one I noted was the "cut here" around his neck. The man was rough around the edges, but definitely handsome, nonetheless.
The room remained silent as the man approached us. I felt as if I knew the man from somewhere, but couldn't place it.
"Hey Trevor!"
Wade broke the silence.
The man snapped his neck at Wade, pushing him out of the way as he walked by. Wade stumbled backwards but caught himself on the counter behind him. The man stopped in front of me, towering over me and eyeing me like a predator stalking its prey. A small smirk spread across his face.
"Well well, you two actually managed to pull it off. I expected to have to play hero and come rescue your asses!"
The two men trembled as the man whipped his head around.
"Well, what the fuck are you standing around for?! Get the fuck out!"
Ron and Wade bolted out the trailer door, and I was now alone with the new man.
"You know, you don't have to be such a fucking dick. They're you're fucking friends!"
I let my smartass mouth get the best of me. The man turned to me, an unreadable expression crossing his face.
"Yeah, I guess you're right."
The man said calmly, looking down and kicking his boots.
"But...YOU DON'T HAVE TO BE SUCH A FUCKING WHORE EITHER AND HAVE TO BE FUCKING RESCUED ONLY TO BE AN OH SO UNGRATEFUL CUNT TO YOUR RESCUER...but sweetheart we all have our downfalls."
I jumped up from the couch, almost falling in the process. I balled my fists as I felt the blood flow through my veins.
"Listen here, buddy. I didn't ask you to save me. I don't even fucking know you! And you don't fucking know me! So how in the hell are you gonna call me a whore, when you're the one fucking people's girlfriends?!"
I had never felt like this before. Of course, I had to manage the pill pushers back at my old job. But I had never felt the rage inside me build to this extreme. Was it because of Johnny? Was it because I didn't know this man and he was judging me? Was it because the man was right?
The man got closer to me, placing two fingers under my chin to lift my gaze to his. I did not know what to expect, the adrenaline running through my veins. I could hear every pump of blood going to my heart.
"You know sweetheart...I could just shoot you right now."
"Then do it."
The room was silent for a moment. The man removed his hand from my face. He slowly smiled a demented smile.
"Helpless but still feisty, mmm I like it."
Before I could protest, my body went limp and I began to fall. I closed my eyes as a pair of strong arms wrapped around me, sitting me on the couch.
I opened my eyes to the man kneeling in front of me, observing my wounds from the previous days of hell.
"Damn, they really did you in, didn't they?"
I felt a tinge of concern in his voice. It was apparent he was trying to mask it, though. It was almost as if he went through a whole book of emotions in one encounter. I'm honestly surprised he didn't off me yet.
"I'm Trevor, by the way. Trevor Philips. Now you know me."
I nodded.
"I'm Bryn. Bryn De Santa. I've heard a lot about you."
"Yeah, probably that I'm a crazy meth dealing hillbilly who sleeps with peoples women, right?"
I remained silent. Trevor chuckled.
"Well they're not wrong."
I nodded and bit my lip, unsure of where to go from this. So I'm bound to my death for almost a week by a guy I was stupidly involved with, I get rescued by this psychotic man and his friends that I barely know anything about, other than they are my ex lover's meth competition. Should I call Lester? Should I try and find a taxi out here that will take me all the way back to Los Santos? Should I ask Trevor for a ride.
My thoughts were interrupted by Trevor putting a hand on my shoulder. I flinched instinctively, but then relaxed into his odd affection.
"Don't even fucking think about leaving. Believe me, the last thing I want to do is share my home with an ungracious little skank, but I can't have you getting back in the hands of The Lost. They'll come here eventually, but at least I'll be here to protect you."
I sighed, looking down at my decrepit jeans. He was right, maybe not about the unappreciative skank comment but about The Lost. I got myself in some deep shit, knowing that beyond a computer, I'm defenseless. Hell, I was raised by Lester, for fucks sake.
"You wanna take a shower?"
Trevor interrupted my thoughts.
"Not with you."
I joked, thankful he picked up on it as he started laughing.
"Eh, they all come around, sweetheart."
Trevor helped me up and walked me to the bathroom, grabbing some clothes from the bedroom on the way. He handed them to me and I took them without complaint. Hell, if I were him I would've killed me by now.
"If you need me or decide you want me to join you, just yell."
He turned around and left the bathroom, closing the door behind him.
I slowly undressed and made my way into the shower, which was filthy but definitely by no means more filthy than my current state. I turned the hot water on and stood there as it poured over my sore muscles. I washed the dried blood off of my face, staring as the week of hell I endured flowed smoothly down the drain..