8Author's Note:
Hi everyone, apologies for the long wait. This chapter may be a little rushed as well, which I apologise for. :( I hope you all are staying safe, considering the coronavirus and also, if any of you need a distraction, you're welcome to check out my other projects. :)
As usual, feel free to leave your thoughts in a review and I hope you all enjoy Chapter 5! :)
Chapter 5: Daddy's Little Girl
(The Next Afternoon - Wednesday, September 18, 2013 - De Santa Residence in Rockford Hills, Los Santos, San Andreas, USA...)
"So, I guess you must have some questions?"
"In a manner of speaking,"
"Alright, shoot,"
"Okay... First of all, what exactly have you done, which involved guns?"
"I... I was a bank robber. Your parents and your uncle Brad were too, you wouldn't remember him - because you were a little kid back then,"
"You're right ... Did you guys kill people?"
"That's another reason why I'm worried about involving you, kiddo,"
"Look, Dad, I get it. But if you're so worried about me risking my life, then why are you asking me to help you? I'll just get in the way,"
"You really think that?"
"Yeah. I don't know anything about your line of work and I'm with Franklin, I'm too young for this and it will probably mean that I'll have to give up my education,"
"No, no, I'm with you. Have you not seen those spouts of yours', though?"
"No? W-Wait, you mean jumping Kyle and challenging him to a fight, don't you?"
"Precisely. I'm surprised you haven't noticed,"
"Tell me about it. Look, do you mind if I could have a think about this? I've had a horrible day and... I just don't want to screw everything up like I usually do,"
"That's fine and stop putting yourself down like that, Ryan. You haven't done anything wrong,"
"Okay, if you say so,"
...
After what was pretty much the worst birthday I've ever had, I spent the next morning deep in thought.
It was decided that I would be working from home whilst the situation with Amber was being resolved and I was quite thankful for that, because I needed to bail out and have a break. Then, there was Michael asking me for help in a dangerous line that I wasn't sure if I fancied crossing. I mean, I may have been a kid at the time, but I wasn't going to be one of those stupid idiots who dived into something without using their brains.
Which was what most people my age were.
So in order to make my decision easier, I decided to separate it into pros and cons. The latter ones were obvious - but with that being said, I'll admit that the former ones took me aback; I supposed I could be an ally without killing anyone and it would be handy to have some fighting tricks up my sleeve. The latter would have helped a lot when my bullies sent me through death's door, come to think of it. Despite that, however - there's this one glaring con that made my decision really hard: it's against my nature to put myself first instead of others and I knew that as much as I wanted to help Michael, I would be putting myself at risk if I did.
Argh, I have no idea what to bl**dy do!
"Dude, do you even have a penis?" Jimmy's voice began to loudly echo throughout the mansion. "Or are you one of those hermaphro dudes born without genitals?"
Hearing this, I held back a sigh as I continued writing my school work in my bedroom. Augh, there he goes - taunting his enemies on Righteous Slaughter again. When was the last time Jimmy had a break from that? He could make himself sick if he's been on there 24/7!
My older brother, however, appeared to be unfazed. "You suck c*ck for fun, only secretly, and then you feel bad about it!"
Oh, for god's sake!
"Jimmy?!" I politely called out. "Could you tone down the swearing a bit, please?! I'm trying to do my work!"
No answer. Of bl**dy course. I clenched my eyes shut with annoyance, before pulling myself off my bed and preparing to close my door - so I could get some peace and quiet ... only to see an equally annoyed Michael storming upstairs on my right. Oh god.
"You can hear him too?" I asked worriedly.
"Yep," My adopted father confirmed, growling under his breath. "That disrespectful little f*ck...!"
"W-Wait, hold on," I told him, exiting my bedroom and heading towards Jimmy's. "Let me handle this, and you can go back and watch TV,"
Hearing this, Michael stared at me with a fierce glower which pretty much asked: You think you can do this, by yourself?! to which I responded with a calm but mildly ticked off "Okay - how does this sound, then? You can stick nearby and if he becomes too much, you help me out - but civilly,"
We've been fighting for almost ten years - so why not change that? That wouldn't hurt, would it?
If Dad sensed my thoughts, I couldn't tell. "Fine,"
One confident thumbs up later, and off I went knocking on my brother's door. "Hi, Jimmy,"
"Hey, Ryan," The 20 year-old greeted in an unenthusiastic manner, way too focused on his bl**dy video game to pause it just for one second. How am I gonna do this, especially since our volatile dad can snap at any bl**dy moment?!
His bedroom was a right old state too, so much so that it would have been ranked 1st place for the most Untidy Place of 2013 and before you ask if I'm joking, I'm not - even though I wish I was. A ridiculously gigantic TV, accompanied by two yellow speakers, took up the whole bl**dy wall in front of his messy bed - not to mention the multiple space and rocket band posters which also took up a similar space and unfolded clothes sprayed all over the floor. Instead of having his laptop placed on his bed (so he wouldn't accidentally step on it without realising), Jimmy had said PC also on the floor by his speakers and finally, he had a coloured bong of all objects positioned next to him. Bud, I hate to say this - but what's happened to you and Tracey?
You both are good people, so... argh, why do I feel like I'm the only decent kid out of the three of us when I'm not?!
"Did Michael send you here?" Jim interrupted my thoughts with a hateful sneer directed at our father.
"I think you mean Dad," I gently corrected with a smile. "And no, he didn't. Did you hear me, before I came in?"
"No, I didn't," My brother answered. Because you're on your game, I know. "What's up?"
"Okay, that's fine. I was going to ask if you could... toning down the swearing a bit, please?" I asked kindly. "It's fine that you're on your game, don't worry, but I'm trying to do my work and don't particularly fancy getting distracted - if that makes sense?"
Hearing this, Jimmy flashed me a glare. Oh god. "Ryan - this is how I play!"
"That isn't what I meant, dude," I tried nervously, becoming aware that my anxiety was pumping up by the minute. Please don't yell at me, please don't yell at me!
"You know if you don't like this so much, then f*ck off!"
Now, that stung. Painfully. But before I could react, in came a furious Michael who whipped up a nearby chair stood in front of a speaker and violently smashed it into the TV! "F*ck you!"
I jumped with a squeal, whilst Jimmy exclaimed: "What the f*ck?!" before springing from his bed in horror.
"Disrespectful little *sshole!" Our father growled, tossing the chair away in almost a fit of rage.
"I can't believe you did that! That's my TV!"
"Dad, was that really necessary?!" I cried out in shock.
"You don't talk to your sister like that!" Michael ignored me by viciously scolding Jimmy.
"I can't believe you...!" My adopted brother trailed off ... seconds before launching into a tyraid of abuse. "Mom was right about you, you don't know any better and you can't help it! But you're an *sshole!"
"Jimmy, stop it!" I yelled anxiously.
"Yeah? Well, why don't you do something, then?" Dad suggested hatefully, leaving my words on deaf ears. "Besides, just stand there. Why don't you hit me?"
Oh nonononono!
"Is that what you want?" The 20 year-old demanded. "To be hit by your own son?!"
"Yeah!" Michael shouted angrily. "...No! I just want you to do something besides sit there, eating!" Says the guy who does the exact same thing.
"Yeah, great!" My brother scoffed, preparing to leave. "Thanks for the f*cking guidance, Dad! It means a lot!"
"Wait!" Dad stopped him, having thankfully recovered from his fit of rage. "I'm just trying to help ya!"
"Well, nothing says I love you like smashing my f*cking TV!" Jim scolded him, sitting on his bed with frustration. "Nothing at all!"
Hearing this, our father sighed with a hint of remorse. "I'm sorry, okay? I just wish that we could do things together,"
"Like what?" I piped up.
"I don't know. Go for walks? Play ball?"
"You know I have bad glands!" Cue Jimmy to interrupt with an annoyed protest.
"Okay - how about bike rides, then?" Dad suggested hopefully, quickly flashing me a look to ask: What do you think? - to which I responded with a cautious but mildly perky "Wouldn't hurt to do that, someday,"
"See?" He said happily, earning a small smile from me. It's cool that Dad's willing to try and spend time with us now. Maybe, the result might be great? "How about it, Jim?"
"You two want to go on a f*cking bike ride?!" My brother spat, glowering at us like we were the stupidest duo on the planet.
"What's wrong with that?" I questioned, still hurt by his insult - yet feeling sympathetic for the poor dude for having his TV smashed in.
"Everything! Give me one good reason why I should head on a f*cking bike ride of all things!"
"I can think of a lot of reasons, actually," I snarked back calmly. Two most important ones: you'd have a break from that game of yours' and stop making yourself ill by staring at the TV all day. This would do you a world of good, bro!
"Okay, Ryan - I think you've made your point," Cue Dad to play peacemaker before another argument could break out and I'm glad he did, because I don't know how much longer I would have pushed Jimmy's buttons. Feel free to thank yesterday for me wanting to get back at people who hurt my feelings.
Accepting this, I threw my hands up. "I rest my case," Cue me flashing my brother a worried look. "Though the bike ride is just an idea, Jimmy, and sorry about your TV too,"
"Fine, fine!" Said bro angrily rose from his bed and storming out of the room, ignoring my words as well. Like Father, like Son. "Let's go on a f*cking bike ride!"
His annoyed remark had thrown both Michael and myself by surprise. Woah there, nelly! After I managed to recover from the initial shock, I glowered at Dad. Why did I let you stick around earlier? "Happy?"
"No," He sighed in defeat, before we followed Jim downstairs and out of the mansion. Tch, should have thought about that - before you smashed the bl**dy TV then, shouldn't you?
"My day was going so well until you showed up, Michael!" My adoptive brother complained as we climbed into our father's car. Once the latter rumbled to life, off the three of us went through the gates and towards Vespucci Beach. "Argh!"
"Yeah, well, you're lucky to be even allowed out of the house," Dad sneered. "After that boat stunt,"
"What's the big deal, anyway?" Jimmy scoffed. "If anything goes wrong, you can just fake your death and start all over," Did I just hear that right?!
"Jimmy!" Michael warned him icily.
"What, it's true!"
"You faked your own death, Dad?" I asked our father worriedly. "W-Wh, I hope you don't mind me asking, but why? Did something happen?"
"I-I-It's not important," Michael stammered for a split second. Really? "You know, kids? Let's talk about something else, okay?"
"Alright," Actually, it was important.
"Hey, Ryan?" Jimmy cautiously decided to address me, as Michael continued driving.
"What?" I questioned in a distant manner. "Got another insult up your sleeve?"
"No, I'm...! I'm sorry that I hurt your feelings, okay?" He surprisingly apologised. "Y-You know I just... snap sometimes, right?"
I sighed. "Yeah," Once again - like Father, like Son.
"Do you think it's something I need to work on?"
"I think we all have issues we need to sort out," I answered honestly, quickly continuing with a near frantic "That's not to put you both, Mom and Tracey down in any way, don't worry,"
"We know, kiddo," Michael reassured me. "I meant to ask you this morning - how are you feeling, considering yesterday?"
Hearing this, I shot him a confused glance. "I don't understand, what do you mean?"
"I-I mean," Dad stammered again. Is it me or do I detect some fear there? If so, why is that? "W-Well, you know..." Oh...
"Trevor and Skylar?" I guessed correctly.
"Yeah," My adoptive father confirmed. "How are you feeling about that?"
Cue Jimmy to interrupt with a distressed "You told her?!"
"Well, she was going to find out eventually, Jim!" Michael fired back icily, before proceeding to kindly address me again. "So?"
"I, um," I began nervously. "I don't know, to be honest. You guys are pretty much the only family that I remember and I feel bad that I've forgotten Trevor, Skylar and Brad, I really do,"
"It's perfectly normal that you've forgotten them, Ryan," Dad responded, this time much more confidently. "And you might as well consider that a blessing, because your real Dad was hell walking on Earth," Come again?!
"That doesn't make any sense," I commented with a frown. What about what you told me when we were driving home yesterday?!
"Oh, but it does. He was a f*cking deranged maniac, kiddo," Michael told me bitterly. "He's also where you get your looks and angry spouts from, in case you were wondering,"
"Sounds like you were scared of him," I bluntly pointed out, managing to hide my growing terror over the next thought which entered my brain. D-Does that mean... I'm— No! No, that's bl**dy stupid. He wouldn't.
"You know - he wasn't always like that, Rhino," Jimmy thankfully interrupted, before our father could dampen Trevor's image even more. He can't be that bad, can he? I mean, let him and Skylar rest in peace! "Both he and Aunt Skylar were really cool with me and Tracey,"
"Yeah, she was an angel," Dad agreed, supposedly remembering her fondly. Thank you for not dampening my mother's image! And I'm assuming I get my personality from her? Cool! "I don't know what the f*ck she saw in him,"
Hearing this, I had to hold back an annoyed remark. Excuse me, that's my parents you just insulted. How many times am I going to have to tell you to let them rest in peace now?! I don't think I had it in me to talk much after that, so the boys decided to bicker again over Michael driving like a psychopath as Jim had put it. During so, I allowed myself to be whisked away into my thoughts. A lot of questions were bombarding my brain, one of them was: What did my biological parents look like? and... despite the hint I got from Michael, it didn't help that my memory was faint - because if it wasn't, then I would have been able to answer that myself by going on a mental trip down memory lane. Also, I would have been able to remember positive moments I had with them and... argh!
Words couldn't describe how much I was beginning to hate myself for forgetting them...!
"Okay, we're here," Dad snapped me out of my thoughts, pulling the Tailgater to a stop at a miniature car park - which was just across the road from a small rental shop with a row of said transport for people to choose from. Oh, bingo! Once the three of us had climbed out and shut the vehicle's doors behind us, we approached the clerk (who seemed to be a friendly dude, appearance-wise) and Michael greeted him with "Hey you, three bikes,"
"Take your pick,"
"Thanks," Dad replied appreciatively, instantly diving for a blue one. Well, there goes my first choice. Never mind. Meanwhile, I had decided to make do with a red bike and Jimmy had chosen an orange one. Okay, let's do this.
"So, where are we going?" I asked, as we had walked our bikes out to a very long path travelling all the way to Los Santos Pier. We're heading there, aren't we?
"Race you both to the Pier?" Michael suggested eagerly, so much so that a small amused smile spread across my face. Of bl**dy course.
"You sure?" Cue said smile breaking out into a grin.
"Course! It'll be fun," My adoptive father chuckled, prompting me to playfully roll my eyes. As long as you're sure, then. "How about it, Jimmy?"
"Alright," My older brother replied, continuing with a confident "But if I make it to the end of the pier first, you're gonna buy me a big *ss new flatscreen!"
"Yeah, well - if I beat you there, you're gonna behave like a human being!"
"Ladies, calm down," I butted in, smirking. "Let's go!"
And off we went!
"Ryan, what are you after if you beat us there?" Dad questioned me as the three of us rode at a decent pace through the crowd of citizens walking by.
"Less arguments between you two!" I answered happily, which was rather surprising - considering how horrible yesterday and the past nine years were. "And more family time like this! This is fun!"
"Alright, let's see what happens!"
"Give it up, Dad!" Jimmy began boasting, despite already gasping for air. "You've gone to seed! In this kind of condition, a triathlon will kill you! If I have a heart attack, it's your fault!"
"Come on, Jim! Keep pushing!" Michael pleasantly encouraged the 20 year-old.
"My lungs are burning!" Said young adult exclaimed. "But humiliating you makes it all worthwhile!"
"All that smack talk ain't going to put me off my stride!"
"My body isn't meant to work like this, but I'm making it to beat you!"
"Yes, Jimmy!" I cheered excitedly with a giggle.
"If you bike a few more miles," Michael continued smack talking away. "We might be able to squeeze you into some skinny jeans!"
Woah, okay. That's a little rough.
It didn't take long for us to make it to the end of the pier ... and guess who won? Yep, Michael - who had pulled his bike to a stop and turned to smugly grin at Jimmy and I, having also halted in our tracks right behind him. "Looks like you're buying your own TV,"
"Congratulations, Dad," I panted, flashing a quick thumbs up. "Good race,"
"Thank you, Ryan,"
"You're welcome,"
"You know, this is real nice, Dad," Jimmy agreed, sweat visibly beading his football jersey and pants. "Bonding, good times,"
"Yeah, yeah, I've given it my best shot," Our father replied hopefully. "Come on, we're having fun - right?"
I opened my mouth to respond in the affirmative, but my older brother had beaten me to it. "You wouldn't know fun, if it sat on your face,"
"But at least, he's trying?" I offered, earning a small but thankful smile from Michael. "That counts for something, doesn't it?"
And once more, my words were left on deaf ears. Here we go. "I mean, why do I have to hold your hand through this whole midlife crisis bullsh*t?! And why don't you stick your nose up Tracey's or Ryan's butts, sometime?!"
Hearing this, I glowered at him in shock. "Excuse me?!"
"Because Tracey and Ryan don't buy cars they can afford, so that thugs break into our house," Our father defended me and my sister. "Tracey and Ryan don't get kidnapped or destroy my yacht!"
"Well, that's because Tracey's too busy getting f*cked by dudes to get on TV!" Jimmy fired back with annoyance.
"Jimmy!" I shouted with horror. How can you say that?!
"You don't talk about your sister that way!" Michael scolded him angrily.
"Well, I'm sorry - but it's true!" Jim revealed frantically. "I mean, according to her Facebook page, she's hanging out with producers and porno guys this afternoon!"
"I beg your pardon?" I growled worriedly.
"What are you talking about?" Dad demanded, equally concerned.
"Actually," The young adult began, feeling a tad pleased with himself as he pointed to a luxurious yacht not too far from the Pier. "It's all happening right out there,"
"What?!"
"That boat that makes yours' look like a refugee raft," Jimmy boasted again. Please stop, for god's sake! "You know, that kind of boat? The one that makes a young, impressionable girl drop her pants and spread her legs,"
Hearing this, I shoved a fist against my mouth and found myself gagging in repulsion. That's too much! I'm going to bl**dy throw up, if you won't shut your mouth!
Our father was just as disgusted as I was, having stripped out of his polo shirt and jeans to his swim shorts and jammed a finger in his son's face. "This is the reason you brought us here, isn't it? You f*ck!"
With that, he took off sprinting and ignored an unenthusiastic plea from Jimmy to wait. Urgh! Without hesitation, I grabbed my bike and quickly got myself seated. This is going to end so badly, I know it!
"Ryan, where are you going?!" My brother demanded, following suit.
"Where do you think?!" I shouted angrily, before fearfully taking off with him right on my heels.
Looking back, I cycled as fast as my legs could - whilst taking quick glances at the yacht to see what was occurring. Dad, please don't lose your temper like you usually do! Please don't lose your temper like you usually do! Jimmy and I were probably half way across the pier, when distant gunfire had erupted and I caught a brief glimpse of Michael and Tracey speeding away from several men on a Seashark. Oh no! Even worse? Dad and said dudes had pistols in hand and were firing round after round at each other! NO!
This prompted me to cycle faster and soon enough, the two of us were within reaching distance of our two family members after we had made it down to the beach. Breathing heavily, I just about managed to stumble off my bike ... only mere seconds before collapsing into the sand with my anxiety throbbing within me like wildfire. Tracey, you better be okay!
"There he is!" Tracey screamed with rage, pulling herself off the Seashark and violently storming up to him. "Jimmy, you D-Bag! You! You f*cking *sshole!"
"He... He's the f*cking *sshole, okay?!" Jimmy yelled in terror, stumbling back from the older girl and pointing a bony finger at Michael - all the while ignoring the fact that I had collapsed from terror. "He smashed my TV and took me and Ryan to the beach! The beach, with my skin!"
"So, what? You sent him out to spoil my day, too?!" The blonde scowled. "And Rhino's?!"
"I didn't know that he was going to come get you, I just told him where you were! You know, he got the crazy look into his eyes. You know, like he gets sometimes? And he just went."
"I'm getting a cab," Tracey told him, storming off. Hey, at least tell us you're alright!
"I'm coming with you,"
"How about I just drive us home?" Michael offered as I pulled myself up to my feet and started rubbing sand off my shirt and jeans in disgust. Tracey wasn't having any of it and she whirled round to face him with the most hateful glare any of us had seen, intentionally hurting him with the following words: "You ruined my life!"
TRACEY!
Both she and Jimmy were completely oblivious to the horrified glare I shot them, having walked away from Dad and myself. Nobody should say that to anyone! This was... This was one of the few moments where I felt genuinely bad for Michael and even from where I stood, I could tell that he was deeply upset by his daughter's declaration - which must have cut like a knife.
I'm so sorry, Dad...
