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#SOTUS Continued: Book Two A BoysLove Tale

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Wad’s POV

“Prem, please save me,” I whisper, covering my mouth as I start to sob. “Please, Prem.”

What the hell am I going to do? Not only is P’Dean is here, but he or someone has a gun. My father said P’Dean’s mother and her lover attacked him. Did they go and... I remember my father’s words.

“She is not sane, Wad. I don’t know where they are, and I don’t want you hurt.”

Did they somehow help P’Dean escape? Is that why they postponed the trial? I look down at my phone that I can’t see in the dark and want to scream. If Prem and my mom are at the courthouse, they know P’Dean is on the loose with his murderous mother and her lover. Do they know they have a gun with them? Prem and my mom have to be freaking out, not being able to contact me. Why did I let my battery die? Today of all days, when my past comes to visit. It was all supposed to end today, not spiral farther out of control.

“Prem,” I whisper into the dark. I jerk at P’Dean’s voice.

“Father,” P’Dean chuckles. “They really do have bullets in their guns. Look, there’s a hole in the wall.” P’Dean laughs, “I wonder how big of a hole it will put in a person?” I hear what I think is my chair scrape across the floor. “Should I test it out on you, father, or should I just let die on your own?”

I strain my ears to hear my father’s response, but I don’t hear anything. That man put P’Dean on a pedestal, and now that piece of trash is just watching him die?

“You know father,” P’Dean drawls out the word father. “Since you are dying, I believe you deserve some truths. I wouldn’t want you to die and not know all you should be regretting.” All he should be regretting? What more could there be?

“You gave up everything for my mother and me,” P’Dean continues, “You threw away your wife and your flesh and blood son for us.” P’Dean giggles, “You know what is funny? Do you? Do you want to know?”

I can’t hear my father’s response, but I press my ear to the side of the wardrobe, waiting for P’Dean.

“I am not your son,” P’Dean states quietly, “I don’t know which one of my slut mother’s lovers is my father, but you were too blind to see the truth. I thank you for that.”

I hear a sound like someone struggling and try to picture what is going on in my room. My father was bleeding heavily. Could he still be alive? Is P’Dean going to watch him die?

“That is right, old man,” P’Dean sneers, “You gave up your real family for a greedy whore and her bastard child.” I hear the chair scrape again, “You abandoned your only blood child for a piece of trash like me.”

I oddly feel relieved at this revelation. I have no connection whatsoever to this maniac. It doesn’t make what he did to me any better, but it feels like I am less dirty because I now know this.

“I hated your son from the day he was born,” P’Dean hisses, “He was everything I could never be, and there wasn’t a day that my mother didn’t remind me of that.” P’Dean gives a coarse laugh, “You only had one purpose! You were to tie me to that family in a way they couldn’t deny me, and you couldn’t do that! You are as worthless as your father was! Nothing but trash!” P’Dean says in a shrill voice as if mimicking his mother.

I close my eyes in the darkness of the wardrobe and pray that someone comes soon. Please let it not be my mom or Prem, but a police officer or someone I don’t love. Just someone to stop this. Surely by now, they are looking for this monster. Is my father even alive, or is he ranting to a corpse?

“Your parents knew,” P’Dean sneers, “They knew the moment my mom went to their house with me. They kicked her out and cursed her.” P’Dean bangs on something, “Are you listening, old man?” The chair once again scrapes on the floor. “Didn’t your parents tell you I wasn’t yours?” Something smashes against the wall, “How could you have been so stupid to believe that whore?”

I hear the sound of something, but I don’t know if it is P’Dean rummaging around in my room or my father. The fact I haven’t heard my father since P’Dean showed up makes me believe he has died. I rest my head against the side of the wardrobe. How am I supposed to feel about this? For so many years, I have hated my father, but instead of seeking help for himself, he sacrificed his life to come here to save me. I don’t know when P’Dean will start searching through the house. I pray to all the Gods that this compartment is something he won’t easily notice.

I flinch when I hear footsteps in the hall. They are coming out of my room. I hold my breath waiting to hear which direction they will go. A door bangs against the wall, and I realize they are in the bathroom.

“Father,” P’Dean calls out, making me jump, and I hiss when I hit my head once again. I swear silently, hoping P’Dean didn’t hear me. “Father? You still with me?” I listen to him flush the toilet, “I want to tell you what I did to your son. In the very house, I was arrested in front of that day. I was taking your precious son back to relive some of my fondest memories.” The chair scrapes on the floor once more.

“You know his boyfriend was right,” P’Dean surmises, and I frown. Prem was right about what? “I did go gay for him,” I remember this conversation it was when he showed up at the food stall, and Prem made him pay for the food.

“Do you want to hear how I went gay for him?” P’Dean jeers, “It is such a lovely tale.” I don’t want to hear that day from his point of view. “I was tired of just bullying him, and besides, he was starting to fight back, which was just fvcking annoying. Why couldn’t he learn his place? I mean, I was the prodigal son, not him.” I hear what sounds like someone kicking something soft. “Are you listening?” Did he just kick a dying man?

“Where was I?” P’Dean wonders, “Oh, yes. I was tired, so I decided I would show him that he was nothing but my bitch.” P’Dean giggles. He has to be as insane as his mother. “Father, do you know how I showed him that?” I close my eyes and try to cover my ears. “I fvcked him! Not once, but several times. It wasn’t my intention, but he was so good. And that pissed me off!” P’Dean growls, “So I whipped him. But I had never felt that way. It was like I was high on drugs, and I couldn’t get enough.”

I realize my face is wet. Part of me wants to jump out of here and beat P’Dean senseless, but the part of me that wants to see Prem, my mom, and everyone I love again is stronger. Prem. Shit! I have got to start telling him I love him more often. I don’t care if I sound like a freaking lovesick fool. I want him never to doubt it.

“You know,” P’Dean’s voice snaps me back to the situation at hand, “I really thought when I left him in that rundown house, he would die. Who knew he would just go home and not say anything to anyone.” It sounds like P’Dean is pacing around my room now. “Who also knew that bitch mother of his would save his clothes? My lawyer told me that it pretty much sealed my fate when she produced those.” I hear my closet open, “Too bad you weren’t as smart as your ex-wife or your son.”

I want to tell the piece of trash if my father were smart like my mom, he would have never fallen for the trap P’Dean’s mother set, and I would have had a father.

“You know I would think they would have sent them back home by now,” P’Dean says, “I am sure they postponed the trial after my mom did what she did. I wonder if she is still alive.” P’Dean seems to be rummaging through my closet. “Explain to me why your son is such a stick boy. None of these will fit, and that bag is his boyfriends. That guy is a freaking giant. I really want to change my clothes.”

What did he mean if his mother was still alive? What did she do? Was she the reason P’Dean escaped? My father was right. She is insane.

“Do you know what it has been like in jail, father?” P’Dean begins again. “Hell! Once they found out I was a rapist, I became everyone’s toy.” The chair moves. “Almost makes me regret what I did to all of those students while I was at university. Almost.” P’Dean snickers. “I wonder if they enjoyed being used as much as I did.”

What the fvck? Enjoyed? I know P’Dean is as twisted as someone can be, but this is a whole new level. And why the fvck has no one shown up!?! What the hell are the police for anyway? Decoration? First, they can’t find my stalker. Then they let this maniac loose, and I am pretty sure they missed P’Dean’s crazy-ass mother’s little plot. I wipe my forehead with the back of my hand. I know I won’t run out of oxygen in here, but it is quickly getting stuffy.

“Seriously,” P’Dean snarls, “How are you still alive and why the fvck isn’t your son back yet? Don’t tell me the police finally grew a brain and have kept them there. That would certainly be annoying.” Something shatters against the wall. “I want to put a hole in your son!”

It is almost comical, P’Dean, and I just had the same thought. Maybe I am running out of oxygen in here. I am feeling weirdly calm. Is this the proverbial moment before your life ends that you find clarity and peace? I want to slap myself, but there is not enough room to do that. You are not going to die, Wad. I can’t. Prem would blame himself, and I must be with Prem. I clasp my hand around the bracelet on my wrist. I must be with him always.

Something in the distance catches my attention. Is that a siren? Please let it not be an ambulance. I listen hard as it gets closer. I flinch when I hear footsteps walk across the floor in front of the wardrobe. Mom’s room is at the front of the house, and her window overlooks the street.

P’Dean must have heard the siren, too, since he swears. I close my eyes and pray. Please don’t let him start looking for a place to hide. I small giggle escapes when I imagine him jumping into the wardrobe to hide. That would be just about how my luck runs. The sirens stop close by, and I gasp when I hear several car doors.

“Shit!” P’Dean curses as he walks out of the room. “I am not going back! Father! Wake up! I need a hostage.” This ass has no shame. Let the man die in peace already.

I turn my head toward where my mom’s windows are when I hear the sound of breaking glass. Are they coming in the window? I start to cough when smoke begins to seep in through the seams of the panel. I blink my eyes as they begin to tear. Those idiots didn’t even try to see who was in here before they started throwing shit. I hear the feedback of bullhorn.

“Come out with hands in the air,” some officer says, and I snort. Like that is going to work. I hear footsteps again, followed by breaking glass.

“Like hell, I am coming out,” P’Dean growls in front of where I am hiding. I stare blindly in the dark toward the sound of his voice. It is the closest I have been to the source of all my nightmares since the day he was arrested. I feel I could reach out and touch him. I realize I am shaking uncontrollably and wrap my arms around myself.

“Prem,” I whisper when another shot rings out.