Philips (Sequel to De Santa)

Chapter Five

"Trevor!" I gasped as I sat up in bed. I was drenched in sweat, the combination of the hot Los Santos sun and the stress of another nightmare. A gentle knock at my door instantly made me jump and clutch my blanket.

"Chels?" Dad softly spoke. "Chels, you alright?"

"Yeah," I panted. "I'm fine, Dad." My door slowly opened and Dad stepped inside, looking the room over before his eyes landed on me.

"You sure? I thought I heard you shouting."

"Bad dream," I mumbled.

"Happen often?" I didn't respond. "Chels, I've been hearing you wake up every night since you came home, you don't have to lie to me."

"Sorry, I didn't know I woke you up."

"It's fine, I don't sleep much, myself. You know, I actually see a therapist about my problems."

"Really?"

"Yeah...maybe you'd consider seeing him?"

"Dad—"

"I'm just worried about you, Chels."

"I can't, Dad. I can't tell him what's going on, he'll—"

"He'll keep it a secret. Hell, he kept my true identity a secret. I'll even cop the bill, if that's what you're worried about."

"I'm not worried about the bill, I made plenty working under Trevor. I just...I don't want to talk about it, okay? I'm fine, I promise."

"Chels," Dad sighed. "If there was anything wrong, you'd tell me, right?"

"Would you tell me?" The room fell silent.

"Dad, I'm out!" Jimmy called putting as he ran down the stairs.

"Where are you going?"

"Out with friends, I'll be back late!"

"Jim!" Without another word, I could hear Jimmy run out of the house and slam the door behind him.

"I'm out, too!" Tracey called out.

"Where are you going?"

"Mom and I are going to the spa, remember?"

"No, I don't remember anyone telling me that."

"I kind of forgot. Sorry, Dad."

"I'm taking your car, Michael!" Amanda called out. "And your card!"

"Whoa! Wait a minute!"

"We have appointments!"

"Don't you think you should invite a certain someone?"

"You want to go to the spa?" Tracey asked begrudgingly.

"I meant your sister, Trace."

"No!" Amanda snapped. "She is not my daughter, why the hell would I want anything to do with her?"

"She's my daughter!"

"And how is that my problem? If it bothers you so much, you take her to the spa."

"Amanda!"

"Forget it, Dad," I sighed as I climbed out of bed.

"No, I won't fucking forget this shit! She has no right to treat you that way!"

"And yet she does, but the majority of the time, we just avoid each other. Please, don't stoke the fire, okay?"

"So, you just threaten to beat the shit out of my wife and I can't confront her?"