Chapter 9

Natalie stood outside a posh home nestled in the rolling landscape of Vinewood Hills with a large box of her things tucked in her arms. As far as going into hiding went, she didn't expect to hole up in a place that cost more than most of Sandy Shores, but she wasn't going to complain. She glanced back towards the road to finding Trevor lifting her other cardboard box from the Bohdi's truck bed, this one consisting of her clothing. She turned back to her temporary residence, walking into the door already opened for her.

She barely had time to pack up for her disappearing act, Trevor had already sent a message to Ron to get what she needed for her indefinite leave, so when they got to her little trailer her clothing and various amenities were already ready. She mentally cringed at the thought of Ron rifling through her underwear drawer, but didn't think of it much more than that, it wasn't the time to be prude. Luckily, despite Trevor rushing her to get back into the truck, she was able to swipe a few things she wanted to keep around her, like a few old photographs of her and old friends, most probably haven't even thought of her in years.

She wondered if all this was even worth it, all the way to when she made her great escape from suburbia to her humble beginnings as a drifter. She had wanted to travel and be free, but now she was sleeping with and hiding from a gang that wanted her dead. Sure, the idea of making her own nuclear family with a picket fence house made her queasy, she would most definitely live a hell of a lot longer and almost assuredly safer.

Sleep was all too difficult to come by for her nowadays, her eating habits were at a minimum and sometimes she would stare off into space for hours on end and not even realize it. She wasn't built for the life she wanted, she understood that now. But she couldn't run back away into the arms of the parents and town she pushed away, not that she wanted to, so she was left with her unfit instincts and the gun secured in the waistband of her shorts.

She owned that damn gun for a good amount of time by then. But since leaving for Los Santos it felt one-hundred pounds heavier knowing that she would have to use it if they were to find her, and that she had to make that shot count for something if she planned to live.

She went into the living room of the sprawling, luxury home to find Franklin; the man who helped save her life. She smiled, happy to see him again, despite only knowing each other from when she felt dead and almost looked it. He had been willing to spare his guest bedroom when he heard the basics of her situation. He welcomed her in warmly, offering to take her clothes downstairs for her while she explored and settled in. She politely declined, her and Trevor heading downstairs, finding her room. She had to take a second to herself, seeing how her room seemed to bleed excess, it had to be one of the nicest places she ever imagined she would call her temporary home and lay her head down at night, that is if she could manage to sleep.

The smaller girl turned to Trev, who looked rather unimpressed with the sleek beauty of her temporary residence. He sat the box tucked under his arm beside her closet. She bit her lip, debating whether to speak, "Thank you, Trevor." She said softly, not even a fraction of her gratitude able to be expressed through words.

He shrugged, looking down at her, taking the box in her arms and setting it down for her. He only gave a grunt in response, something told her people didn't usually express any form of thanks to him. She decided to change the subject, "How long do you think I'll be here?"

He glanced around, checking out the place, already heading back upstairs, she followed, "Not sure, we have to see if they're even coming for you at all."

She bit her lip, "Don't you think they'll check here? I mean, Franklin's your friend and all..."

Trevor shook his head, "The Lost aren't very smart. Even if they do decide to come poking around, Franklin can handle a couple of junkies. You got your gun?" She lifted the handgun out of her waistband, holding it out to him, he looked satisfied with her answer, "Don't leave the house, until we're sure they're not looking for you."

She grimaced, the idea of being housebound for a while seemed like hell, but being chained and beaten was worse. She made a glance to the oversized windows that lined the Franklin's house, saying a silent goodbye to the sun for a while, "Okay." Was all she could manage to say, looking back to the taller man, wondering how long it would be until she would see him again. She had a feeling he wasn't one to stop by for visits.

There wasn't much else to be said between them and after some discussion between the boys, Trevor left in his Bohdi. Franklin had welcomed her in right after, being as friendly as she hoped he would be. He offered to get some food from an Italian place nearby, but she politely declined, she needed some time to get used to her new room.

Natalie ventured back downstairs and into the guest room. It was large and already well furnished. She looked to the side of the box that had her clothes, she wondered if she should unpack, but figured she could do it later. Franklin had put up some new curtains over her windows just in case someone went snooping around in the backyard.

She let out a soft breath, sitting herself down on her bed and falling back down on her bed. She stared up at the ceiling, seeing no yellowing from cigarette smoke or mysterious brown stains from previous owners. It was weird to her, being in a town for 5 years that made filth a part of its charm, she almost forgot what clean looked like. Even the sheets felt nice under her fingertips, maybe Franklin still did routine cleaning despite this room's lack of use.

As far as running away from a gang that robbed and killed for fun, staying here didn't seem too bad. It of course was going to be tough not being able to go out and enjoy the weather or go out to pick up a pack of cigarettes (although Frank would probably have it covered). But there was no point in fretting now; she was probably going to play the waiting game for awhile, so she had to do something while she did. She got back up, beginning to unpack.

–

Natalie fell asleep that night, but did not do so peacefully. She dreamed she was alone in a place of infinite blackness, where, no matter where she walked, it was just her, alone. Even then she felt a presence, like something was still following her inching closer. As whatever it was drawing near, her walk went into a run and then a full out sprint. She could feel it right behind her, sure if it had breath, it would come heavy on the back of her neck. Hands wrapped around her, they felt bony almost skeletal. She imagined it was death taking her.

She ventured out of her new room by midnight after she decided tonight wasn't the night to get well rested, climbing up the stairs into the living room. She didn't expect to find Franklin there but he was, sitting on one side of the L-shaped couch that sat in front of an impressively large TV posted on the wall. He seemed to be idly watching the current Reality TV sensation on the news explain how her new southern accent was completely natural, looking up when he saw his new roommate enter. He gave a lazy smile, "Hey, Natalie."

She sat on the other side of his couch, pointing at the beer hanging loosely in his hand, "Can I have one of those?"

He glanced down at his beer for a moment like he forgot about it, before nodding quickly, "Yeah, you don't even need t'ask."

The brunette smiled, nodding her thanks, standing and heading towards the kitchen. She found a case tucked in the bottom shelf of the fridge. She grabbed one for herself and unscrewed the cap, heading back to the living room and returning to her spot on the couch. The TV was now showing something about a robbery now, she had a strange feeling Trevor and Franklin might very well have something to do with it.

"I don't think I thanked you for letting me stay here." She spoke up again when nothing interesting on the TV seemed to be on at the moment.

Frank looked back at her once more, "Oh, don't worry about it, dog. I'm hardly here anyway, figure someone could get some use out of this place."

Natalie smiled a little and sank back into her seat, feeling she didn't need to speak more. He seemed friendly enough, she didn't see why she felt so uncomfortable here. Sure, the reasons were unpleasant, but this was the best was to stay hidden and out of the way while Trevor stomped out the what remained of the gang.

She had to think positively about it, she miles away, a man who was willing to do anything was hunting down the people who hurt her, she had Franklin by her side, who looked well experienced with a gun, and she had a gun on her own, one that she very well wouldn't have to use in order to return safely to her little home in the mass expanse of desert north of Los Santos.

The young girl turned her attention towards the TV, she was done thinking for the night. Now, all she had to do was let Trevor do what he did best.