#SOTUS Continued: Book Two A BoysLove Tale

The Past Comes to Visit

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?"