Yes, Mr. Demon Boy? (BoyxBoy)

Chapter Twenty-Four

But today was different. Today I sat cross-legged underneath the tree that didn't feel so big anymore, and I wasn't with my father. I was with Randy who sat next to me, gripping my thigh in an effort to offer his support, but he really didn't need to. I wasn't sad. I was feeling a little nostalgic, but more so confused. My dad wanted me to deliver justice? What did that even mean? So he embezzled a lot of money from a lot of people, but how does that warrant any sort of "finding" of lost things? It's money, it can't really be replaced.

"Could he mean a bank?" Randy questioned from my right, and I could feel his body turn so he was looking at me. I had filled him in on the whole Darius-wanting- revenge-for-my-father's-mistakes incident, and now we were brainstorming ideas as to what the hell my dad wanted from me since I was already here.

I shook my head. "No," I told him firmly. "This is the place. We have to do something here. I just don't know what yet."

Randy huffed, making his frustration evident. Whereas randy felt defeated after the hour we had sat here, I only felt more determined.

"Alright," he said tiredly, stretching out the I. "Let's think. Lost things... lost things... lost..."

His voice sounded whimsical and airy, like he wasn't even trying, just listening to the sound of his voice. So I decided to voice some of my own thoughts.

"What has my father lost?"

"His life," Randy pointed out, his fingers now latched onto a skinny brown stick that was drawing circles in the dirt.

"His dignity," I offered dryly. Randy nodded.

"A shit ton of money," he added.

I nodded in agreement, then began to offer something else. "His-" But then I stopped, dumbfounded. Slowly, I raised my eyes from the circles in the dirt to meet Randy's eyes. "Did you just say money?"

"Well, yeah, yeah I-"

"Shut up," I silenced him, holding my hand out. His mouth stopped moving but his stick still dug into the dirt. And that's when I made the connection.

Holy shit.

I jumped out of my cross-legged position and into the air all in one breath. My fiery inspired eyes stared down at Randy with awe. "Randy... I think we're sitting on it."

Randy rolled his eyes. "Dude no way in hell he could have buried all that down here. It was thousands-millions maybe-and we know he wasn't the most avid saver. He bought you a Camaro for your 16th birthday, then bought you an Impala for your seventeenth. No way all that money still exists."

I shook my head at him vigorously. "No, you don't understand!" I told him excitedly. "My dad inherited millions before he even met my mom! His parents died when he was my age, he could have bought me the cars without being a federal criminal. It's here. All of it's underneath us, I'm positive."

Randy eyed my skeptically, then began to stand up tiredly, almost dejectedly.

"What, what are you-" I began to question, worry evident in my tone, but he cut me off.

"Sam, if you're absolutely positive," he began, reaching down to pull off his shirt. "Then I am absolutely positive."

As he shed his layers, I smiled and began to do the same.

"Woah, Sam, are you sure you want to shift right now? Yanno, with your wolf and everything..." he asked uneasily. But I wasn't doubtful at all.

"No way I'm missing this," I told him, pulling off my boxers. "I have everything under control."