(This is now a crossover story with Always A War On Something by Howl Of A Werewolf, please read chapter 3 of that first before this)
Carly's p.o.v, Majestic hotel, 5th floor…
You've gotta be screwing with my mind now, right?! Trevor just walked in with blood on him! Johnny and I were keeping to ourselves, keeping the mood as calm as possible… now it looks like things are gonna get crazy again.
"Keep your back to him and close your eyes, he'll think you're sleeping."
Johnny says quietly. Within seconds, my eyes are closed and I'm back on my left side, sending pain through my injured hip.
Johnny carefully rests his hand on it, lightly massaging it to ease the pain as I rest my head on his shoulder… we hear Trevor walk towards us but someone intervenes, dragging him out of the room... at first, I thought it was my dad but then I hear a not so subtle Irish accent… Gordon!
"Leave them alone, they're exhausted!" Gordon says, Trevor yelling at him.
"Don't fucking tell me whatto do! Carly's my niece, you Irish prick!" Trevor yells… bad move, Trevor.
Really bad fucking move!
"Could be worse, Francis could show up." Johnny says after I open my eyes.
"The crooked cop who arrested you countless times, John?" I say… inadvertently, a bit too loud.
"See?! She's not sleeping!" Trevor shouts.
"Shut it, you damn lunatic!" Gordon says.
It might be curiosity or insanity starting to build up… but I want to know who Trevor stabbed to death.
Then again, last time I was in this hotel…
Actually, let's just say that there are some things a young kid should never see… and of course, we're all on the same floor where Madam Godzilla tried to murder Gionna.
"I'll agree with you on that, Carly." I hear someone say… Connor?! Couldn't be him… right?!
Then again, stranger things have happened.
Either that or I have finally lost my fucking mind and in the words of DJ Captain Loggins from Los Santos Rock Radio… actually, I don't need therapy, that would be Trevor.
Wait… they'd skip talk therapy and go straight to shock treatment with his crazy ass.
Trevor's p.o.v, three rooms from Carly and Johnny's hotel room...
"From what Michael said, Carly was stabbed by one of those sick sons of bitches and you were gonna snatch her from Johnny?! Are you out of your mind, boyo?!" Gordon says.
"Don't call me boyo, I'm nearing 50 years old! And Carly is still a kid!" I yell at Gordon. I had no trouble stabbing Eddie Low to death, what makes Gordon think he's any fucking different?!
"Call me crazy on this one but Carly stopped being a kid a long time ago.
Yeah, she's still young but there are some things that no one should ever witness or go through." Gordon says, looking right at me… what the fuck would he know?!
Gordon leaves and I go to get cleaned up… I'm a borderline psycho but right now, I'm starting to hate how blood feels when it's soaked into my skin!
It's after a shower and change of clothes that I hear someone at the door and go open it… Ashley Butler?! What the hell is she doing back here?!
"I thought you were still in Sandy Shores." I say, letting her in and closing the door.
"Didn't feel like home… and Johnny didn't want anything to do with me back in 2008 and he still doesn't want me around." Ashley says.
"So you turn up here?" I ask.
"I saw Johnny with a tiny brunette earlier, almost mistook the brunette for an old friend and would've walked up to her were it not for the violet eyes, light brown hair and no scar on her neck." Ashley says.
Didn't the stripper Michael slept with back in 2000 have a scar on her neck?
"Other than John boy, what brought you back to the worst place in America, Ash?" I say.
"Didn't you hear what I said? San Andreas didn't feel like home, Trevor! And…" Ashley says.
"And… what else?" I say.
"I missed you." Ashley says… well, I didn't expect that answer from her.
A while later, Ashley's asleep on the bed while I'm staring out the window, debating whether or not to bust into Carly and Johnny's room.
Who in their fucking mind gave those two a room with only one bed in it?!