Yes, Mr. Demon Boy? (BoyxBoy)

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Four

Sam

I was sitting cross-legged in the dirt, my palms too sweaty to properly grip the piece of paper in my hands. I had read the letter for the first time about a week ago, then again last night. Now, as my fingers shook, I read it for the sixth time. My mind and body had been altering back and forth though states of consciousness, my wolf still trying to gain control of me. But this time I knew better; this time I was stronger. I knew who I was, whom I loved, where I wanted to be, and my wolf couldn't change that. As much as he wanted to protect me, from Damien or anything else, he didn't really need to. So that's why I was reading the letter.

It went a little something like this. I haven't memorized it all yet, but this is a pretty accurate summary:

Sam,

The first thing you should know is I love you. I love you and I love your mother so much that I can not even try to put it into words. You are my only son, my only child. No one could ever replace you, Sammyboy.

So if you're reading this, it means I'm probably already gone. I hoped your mother would get to give this to you, but with her health, that isn't looking too good. I only hope that you are as smart and cunning as I know that you are, so that you find this letter. The circumstances in which you receive this are not favorable, and for that I am sorry. I know you are probably wondering why I am writing all this, son. And I hope you haven't already found out, but considering I'm not alive as you read this, it means that you have. I tried my best to keep my business a secret, but I accept that things do not always go as one plans.

I need you to understand a few things first. I need you to understand that I am still the same man that showed you how to walk, that taught you how to throw a baseball, who introduced you to porn (even if we didn't know you were gay at the time)! I am still your father Sam, no matter what I did to sustain our family's income. Knowing you, my always gentle and sweet boy, you are probably livid. And you have a reason to be. I am sorry I did not tell you what I did for a living. I am sorry that I put myself in danger everyday. I am sorry that you had to live the rest of your life without a father because of my decisions. But above all, I am proud. I am proud of the man you have become. Even if I am not there to see it, I know that you're already the incredible beta that I have seen within you. You are my most crowning achievement, son.

To get down to what the actual purpose of this letter is, I have to address something first. I apologize for how cryptic I am being, but in my business there is nothing else to be. Now Sammy, I need you to go to the place. You know the place. I need you to go there and I need you to make all the lost found. I need you to deliver justice so I can finally be at peace.

I love you.

Dad

It was the letter from the box Darius had forced me to open. It was the letter that almost got Mason killed. It was the letter that made me end it with Damien for good. All the heartbreak and trauma I had experienced in the last few weeks had made me forget all about the damn thing. I remember shoving it into my pants pocket and forgetting about it until a week ago when the maid pulled it out of the washing machine, the paper crinkled and sopping wet, the once crisp blue ink faded, but legible.

So here I was. I was at the place. I knew exactly what my father had meant when he wrote those words. He knew I would remember. The Californian woods that backed up to my childhood home were my favorite spot as a pup, and still are today. There was one large oak in particular that I loved, though. My father and I would come out here and toss a baseball and eat turkey sandwiches on Saturdays and lay down in the shade of the big tree and fall asleep until my mom called us home for dinner. We had always called it the place. Nothing else was needed. It was just our place, him and me.