Philips (Sequel to De Santa)

Chapter Forty Two

"Our top story today, a box truck was found submerged in the Alamo Sea located in Sandy Shores early this morning. Witnesses say that the truck was seen barrelling down the street without any occupants before it plummeted into the waters. The police response was almost immediate and the truck was pulled from the waters. Upon further inspection, the police discovered the body of Officer Ryan Hawthorne, a resident of Los Santos who served his community for five years. The Blaine County Sherrif's Department quickly called the incident in to the FIB after discovering that the body had been mutilated."

"Without a question, this police offer was murdered," Agent Norton confirmed in a press conference held outside the Sandy Shores Sherrif's Department. "On the box truck, someone had spray-painted the word 'murderer' onto the sides and all the windows. Upon further inspection of the body, it was discovered that they had multiple broken bones, cuts, various ages of bruises, and the assailant carved the words 'some pig' into his abdomen. The cause of death is unknown at this time, but we at the FIB believe that the man was tortured before his death."

"The FIB has asked for anyone with information to please contact their local law enforcement and, as always you can remain anonymous. This is Malcolm Forthright, Weazel News."

I turned off the TV and tossed the remote down beside me, quietly sighing to myself. I could still hear his screams in my head, feel the blood on my hands. Trevor and I stayed in a hotel for the night, deciding it was best to avoid his trailer while Dad was, according to Jim, on a rampage searching for me. Trevor squeezed his arms around me and mumbled softly in his sleep. I softly ran my fingers through his hair and smiled. "Trevor," I quietly spoke.

"Pizza is in the oven, Mommy," Trevor mumbled.

"Trevor, wake up." Trevor let out a loud snort as he jolted awake. "You were dreaming."

"Oh...sorry." Trevor yawned.

"Do you always dream about food?"

"No, I'm usually dreaming about fucking you, but since I've actually been doing that, my dreams have been getting weird."

"Trevor," I giggled.

"Hey, you asked and I'm just being honest." Trevor yawned once more. "What time is it?"

"Just a little past ten."

"Ugh, too early," Trevor groaned. "What are you doing up?" Thunder rumbled outside as a flash of lightning filled the room. "Ah, that would be the culprit, wouldn't it?"

"The news is talking nonstop about Hawthorne."

"Well, he's a dead cop, Peaches. Dead cops get more airtime than living ones."

"David was on the news."

"Fucking snake. Did he say anything?"

"He didn't say anything about any leads."

"Good, so Toh did his job right and so did you."

"I just can't believe I did that."

"Well, it wasn't all you, but yeah."

"Not once did I ever think I'd torture someone for answers...then again, I didn't think I'd work in a meth lab, go into witness protection, rob a bank, or kill people. Trevor Philips, I think you've ruined me," I smirked.

"Mmm, in more ways than one," Trevor purred as he tightened his limbs around me. "When can I ruin you again?"

"You've got the highest libido I've ever heard of."

"Can't help it, you're just so fucking sexy. It makes me..." Trevor growled sexually as he nuzzled his face into the side of my breast. "Fuck, every time I think about you, let alone touch you, I get hard."