Gta Characters Trevor Novels & Stories

All Trevor cared about in life was getting a fix of the good stuff. Trevor had brought the heroin kit. It was an old cigar box with a hypodermic needle, a piece of rubber hose, cotton balls, a dull spoon, and a cigarette lighter inside. He had guessed incorrectly that heroin was the kind that Zeke had bought, not Quaaludes. He accepted this with his trademark nonchalance; he was a guy that always rolled with the punches. After they met up in the corner, Zeke got on board Trevor's old model Ford Fiesta. Trevor asked for one pill and hungrily dry-swallowed it.

He leaned towards his chair and said to him. " Do you know me? I am Trevor Mikhail, I trust you've heard about the Mikhail cartel in Russia" he threatened and Derek looked up ar him as realization hit him that he was part of a deadly cartel and immediately, fear crept through him. " Now you will speak because the person you are trying so hard to cover up for won't even blink her eyes for you" Trevor said.

The taller one plants his boots wide, arms crossed like he's auditioning for a B-movie bouncer role. "Club members and family only today, sweetheart." He looks me up and down. "Nice ride, but it don't buy you an invitation." I arch an eyebrow. "That's funny, considering it's my father's car. What's your name anyway?" He adjusts his stance, trying to appear more intimidating. "The name's Trevor." He says with a grimace. I roll my eyes, "Figures, don't even have a title yet." "Listen lady," the shorter one steps forward, "we don't know you from Eve. Could've stolen that ride for all we know."

"Ah, I knew it. No way someone as stunning as you is single." "Aw, thanks. That's sweet." "Well your boyfriend can't be very smart. Leaving you alone so any loser can come hit on you? Bad idea." "He knows I can handle myself." I smiled. "I see. Well romance is out of the window, but friendship is important too. I'm Trevor." He held out his hand. "Haven," I looked in his eyes and he looked so familiar to me. He must go to school with us. That would make sense. He kind of reminded me of Tristian. They both had intense grey eyes, dark hair and an air of trouble about them.

he prompts, holding my arms. "Wait, tell me your real name, I don't like calling you Reaper," I say frankly. Reaper stares at me contemplating if he should open up or not, finally he does. "Trevor Richard," he states. My jaws dropped so badly I hear the man snicker. "Trevor? Wow! You look like a Trevor. I like that name. I suppose you already know everything about me," I say holding out my hand to him for a handshake. Trevor looks at me hand and then as if changing his mind against that, he wraps me in his embrace, hugging me so tight.

No, someone. Where the hell is Trevor?

* His eye ball is something I find myself drowning in. Everyone believe Enuice and Trevor are both dating but it has never been heard from Trevor that it true or even see him show a heart of love toward her but she's trying her possible best make Trevor hers and she won't stop till she get what she want,it's make it easy as Trevor is the son of the Martinez the Das right hand man. He walk style in every step he takes one will think he is a angel as his dyed red hair shine brightly on the sun. Another pink car drives in and Nora walked down gentle as usual her head down and her guitar hang perfectly at her back.

He kissed her as he left promising to call her later and Sarah wandered to her bathroom for a shower with the feeling that this was the start of something good. Grenville had wasted quite a lot of time looking for accommodation so he needed to advance his plan as quickly as he could. He wasn’t stupid, he knew he couldn’t hunt the Reiver down on his own but he thought he knew someone who could help. At lunch time, Grenville started hanging out in the sorts of places that he imagined drug dealers would frequent. He spent hours walking down alleyways, stepping over unconscious addicts and visiting run down bars and underground clubs. Grenville looked totally out of place, a small older man in a

“Missed you. I’m glad you’re home and I won’t let Trevor kill Greta. I’ll make certain he treats her with kid gloves while you’re resting up.” Trevor snorted. Tires crunched and a big white Dodge Dually crept up the driveway. It wasn’t a vehicle Chassie recognized until she saw the big winch sticking out of the front. She muttered, “Shit,” under her breath. “Who is it?” Edgard asked. “Colt McKay,” Trevor answered. “What the hell is he doin’ here?” “I hope it’s not more bad news about Cam.”