New chapter, get ready.

(Chapter 10)

I starred down at my grandmother's lifeless body as she, it, laid on the bedpan. Her light mocha skin paled from lack of blood, it resembled my own, but other than that she looked as if she was asleep. I sat next to the bed pan and grabbed her hand, it was ice cold, and brought it to my lips and placed a kiss on her knuckle. I held it there for a minute before looking down art her face. "Why? Why wouldn't you tell me you were in trouble grandma?" I whispered sadly. "Did you not think I could handle it? That I was too busy helping Scott? What made you think you couldn't trust me?" I asked.

There was so many things I wanted to say but nothing that she would hear. I pulled my phone out of my jacket pocket and checked the time, I've been sitting in this seat for a half an hour. I sighed standing up, any closure I wanted, I wouldn't get from talking to a dead body.

I turned around and began walking out of the room with one last final glance back at my grandmother's body, this would be the last time I see her until her funeral and they cremated her. I walked and headed back to the lobby, when I made it there I saw Lydia standing at the counter next to Jackson, why the hell he was doing here I don't know. Stiles was sitting between Allison and Scott, who were avoiding each other's gazes like the plague..

I raised a brow turning back to the waiter couple. "Lydia," I said earning everyone's attention. "Why the hell is jackass here?" I asked sending Jackson a scorned look. I don't like him well enough for him to be any comfort to me.

Lydia rolled her eyes walking away from Jackson, who glared at the two of us, and stopped in front of me. "That doesn't matter, how are you?" she asked wrapping her arms around my waist and placing her head on my chest.

I glanced around and saw Allison, Scott and Stiles stand up from their seats heading over to me. Allison stood beside me and placed a hand on my arm. I pursed my lips. "I'm as well as I can be for a boy who just seen his grandmother cold and dead body, so..." I shrugged my shoulders and gave a crooked smile.

I saw Stiles's Adam Apple bob up and down. "Sam, I'm, I...I'm sorry I wasn't there for you when you found this out." he apologized.

"Don't Stiles," I said, "I didn't call you or Scott when I found out," I glanced over at my werewolf best friend, he was avoiding my gaze; I rolled my eyes. "I wanted to be alone but someone wouldn't let that happen and prompted me to call a friend before he left."

Scott's brows furrowed. "He?" from the look in his eyes I knew Scott knew who I was talking about.

"Yes." I nodding. "He."

Jackson moved over to us. "Who the hell are you two dorks talking about?" he asked rudely but then again I considered him breathing was rude to endings around him.

Lydia turned around giving everyone a look with a glimmer in her eyes. "He had this hottie in his house today," she trained her eyes on Allison, "When I say hottie, I mean extremely hot with gorgeous green eyes, tan skin, bulging muscles and big feet."

Alison raised a brow. "Why would that be one thing you notice?" She asked.

"Because you know what they say about guys with big feet."

"Okay!" Jackson said waving his hands. "Can we get out of here now?" he asked, desperately trying to change the subject.

I glanced down at everyone's feet. "Stiles and I wear a size ten in shoes." I pointed out as we began to walk out of the hospital.

Stiles shot me an irritated look. "Why did you have to say that?" he demanded, his cheeks were tibted pink.

I smirked, I'm just glad the conversation was off Derek because Lydia bringing him up in such a way made me think of when he was shirtless numerous times in my house. I blushed a little. "So we're going to the mall right?"

Scott raised a brow. "Are you sure? I thought you would have wanted to go home."

"No, I'll grieve later." I didn't want to deal with this right now or ever. I could feel everyone's eyes on me but I ignored them in favor walking to Allison's car. I paused when I saw Stiles's jeep, stopping a little way the car and unhooked my arms from around both girl's waist. "I'll ride with Scott and Stiles." I told them all.

Allison nodded her head while Jackson ignored me, Lydia stared at me for a moment with this inquisitive look in her face but in the end only nodded her head and continued following the brunette to her car.

I rode in the backseat of Stiles's jeep as he did up front, Scott would occasionally glance back at me but wouldn't say anything, I'm hoping that would last until we got to the mall..where I'll be surrounded by purple. I sighed directing my gaze to the window on my right and stared outside at the blurring trees, I suddenly didn't want to go to the mall anymore.

"So," Stiles started, I rolled my eyes but forced my head to turn to him.

"So?" I prompted when he didn't say anything.

I frowned when he pulled over and turned off the engine, please don't tell me he's going to have a heart to heart with me. I found myself looking into whisky colored eyes when Stiles turned to face me. "Are you okay?" he asked.

"I'm fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"That your fine."

"There's only so many ways I can say it."

"Say what?" He's trying to piss me off, I know he is.

"I'm fine!" I barked angrily.

"That doesn't sound like someone whose fine." Stiles pointed out. I scowled at him but it didn't have the desired affects I wanted. "That's not a pretty face."

Scott groaned a little and nudged Stiles's shoulder with his hands. "Stop it Stiles." he muttered.

I almost flinched when Stiles had snapped in Scott's direction with such speed it almost have me whiplash. "Why? Why won't you talk about this?" That was directed at me.

I shook my head. "Because there's nothing to talk about, she's gone and I'm here." I stated blandly, I'd mention the stalker I have after I go visit my aunt Sylvia.

"That doesn't even scratch the surface of what you should be feeling!" Stiles exclaimed slamming his hand on the back of his chair while glaring at me.

"You're right, I feel frustration and anger, now let it go!"

"But you have no problem talking with Derek about it!"

I felt my left eyebrow twitch and struggled to inhale deeply past my angry panting. Why does it always have to go back to Derek? Why is it whenever my name and his name is in the same sentence Stiles explodes? "THAT also isn't up for conversation." Whatever his problem is, he'll figure it out without me.

Stiles crossed his arms over his chest stubbornly. "Why? Because you can't stand it when we talk about a guy that beat Scott like a cheap drum and then threw you against the wall without regard of your safety?" he demanded?"

I narrowed my eyes at him, he is pushing and reaching, and my magic was just BEGGING to be released to lash out. I pushed the urge down and turned my head to stare out the window. "Take me home." I ordered, I'm not about to argue with him over this nor will I listen to him bitch at me.

Stiles scoffed and opened his mouth to day something, I waited for the wrong words to spew from his mouth, apprehensive to what I may do in retaliation but the words never came as Scott slapped his hand over Stiles's mouth. "Can you please stop arguing for like...ten minutes?" he asked.

I shrugged my shoulders, there's was nothing to argue about in my eyes but it was obvious that Stiles wouldn't agree to that so I didn't say it aloud. Whisky eyes rolled before slapping Scott's hand away from his mouth. "Fine."

"Fine." I murmured and then reached in my pocket for my phone. "I'm going to text Lydia and tell her not to expect me at the mall." I told them sending a text my redhead.

Stiles ignored me while Scott sent me a hesitant smile. "Alright."

Stiles scoffed again and then started the jeep, when he pulled off and continued driving I lent back in my dear and closed my eyes, it'd be at least fifteen minutes before we got back to my home. I inhaled deeply, I needed to calm down, I almost indulged in letting my magic wreak havoc just by loosening the leash I barely have on it. I could have seriously hurt Stiles and, unlike Scott, he couldn't heal from it.

I can't remember once when my grandmother wasn't in control of her powers, why couldn't I be like that? Answer, because I let emotions run me. Maybe that's what I need, to get rid of my emotions and inhibitions, I wouldn't be in so much pain and I wouldn't be such an emotional wreck. I gulped, I know there's a spell for that but is it worth it? What would I even be like without my emotions? A spell always had some kind of consequence but I can't think of one that would come from mgs numbing my emotions.

"Sam." I was tore from my thoughts, I looked up and saw Scott looking back at me concerned. I raised a brow. "You know...you don't have to stay at your house...alone, you can come stay with my mom and I."

I leaned against the door and placed my cheek against the chill glass. "Thanks Scott," always playing the hero, one of the things I love and envy about Scott, I can't put aside my personal issues for someone else's like he could. I gave a bland smile. "But I think I'll just stay home."

I heard Stiles hum unconvinced, I narrowed my eyes but didn't acknowledge him, if you give Stiles any indication that he wad bothering you, he'll keep going until someone shuts him up, I'd rather not. Scott glanced between the two of us with a watered down smile. "Alright, the offer is always there."

"I'll keep it in mind." I murmured, we were coming up on my street now, when we turned the corner I felt my heart jump into my throat when I saw two police cars parked in front of my house and four officers were standing at my door.

"Uh-oh." Stiles muttered.

As soon as the jeep was parked, I climbed out of the vehicle abd walked toward the officers, one of which was Stiles's father. "What are you doing here?" I demanded sharply, I didn't want to talk and I didn't want the cops here, I wanted to get into my bed.

Mr. Stilinski gave me a look but I ignored it in favor of glaring at the the other cops. "Sam, we're here to ask you questions about your grandmother."

"She is 54, a Gemini and dead!" I spat at barely able to contain my rage, I wouldn't take it out on my friends but theses cos were the perfect targets, protect and serve like hell! "What else do you need to know?"

One officer with brown hair and eyes with pale skin stepped forward with an irritated look on his face. "You watch your tone, young man."

I was prepared to respond with something when Mr. Stilinski stepped forward placing an hand on my shoulder and then sent the rude officer a searing look. "I'll handle this officer Hathaway." His time was the same one he used when taking to Stiles, Scott and I when we did something we shouldn't have.

Officer Hathaway frowned but fell back. I focused on the matter at hand. "What could I possibly have to give you?"

Mr. Stilinski sighed scratching the back of his head awkwardly, opposing the concrete cop he had been just a few seconds ago. "I don't think we should have this conversation outside, can we go in? Please?"

Well, since he asked nicely. "No." I denied. How dare they come to my home, again, not even giving me two days before they came to bother me.

Mr. Stilinski frowned. "Sam, this is something we really-"

"I don't care."

"Sam," I glanced over my shoulder and saw my two best friends standing there. Stiles had been the one to say my name. "Just let him talk."

I shook my head, I can't catch a break. "Fine, talk to each other but me," I says pointing my thumb at my chest, "I'm going to get in with the rest of this horrible day." I ignored Stiles calling my name again as I stormed past the officers to my front door.

Suddenly, a hand latched around my wrist and jerked me back. I faced my aggressor and frowned as officer Hathaway glared down at me. "Listen you little brat, I don't have the patience for your teenage angst, you will answer these questions about your grandmother's case!" he snapped.

What? They were investigating her murder? Why would they think this was premeditated? Not that I'm complaining because it was, but they didn't have any clues to prove that there wasn't fair play. I was broken out of my thoughts by a grunt of pain. I raised a brow when I saw Mr. Stilinski standing in front of me and officer Hathaway kneeling on his knee while rubbing his jaw. "I told you I'd handle this, officer, now go wait in the car before I rip that badge from your chest." he threatened.

I snorted amused. "Nice dad." I heard Stiles muttered as the reprimanded officer climbed to his feet holding his bruised jaw and stumbled away.

Mr. Stilinski turned to me, his features told me that he meant business and wouldn't take no for an answer. "Samuel, I know you're going through something right now and I understand that, trust me I understand," he placed a hand on my shoulder firmly, "but that does not give you an excuse to be disrespectful to me." he chided.

I felt my cheeks flush with shame, I could just hear my grandmother yelling at me and could practically feel the pain in the back of my head where she would slap me for being disrespectful towards an adult. I've known the Stilinski family for the last six years, John watched over me when my grandmother was busy and Mrs. Martin couldn't. He treated me no different than he treated Scott. I shook his hand from my shoulder and then turned my head so he wouldn't see me blush. "So, there's an investigation?" I questioned effectively changing the subject.

Mr. Stilinski nodded. "Yes, now can we move inside so that we can talk more?" he asked.

I shot pointed looks to not only his other two officers but my friends too. "We can."

Mr. Stilinski caught on to what I was hinting at, turning to the other officers he gave them a nod. "I'm handle things from here, you two take Hathaway back to the office and I'll handle him next."

They both nodded. "Yes, sir." thru said simultaneously and then walked away.

I turned to Scott and Stiles. "You two can go also." I said blandly.

Stiles frowned. "I'm sorry?" he asked as if he heard wrong.

"Go home, I'll talk to the two of you later." I didn't say tomorrow because I knew that would be a lie, I don't know when I plan on going back to school.

"But..."

"Stiles." Mr. Stilinski inherited with a stern look, a look Stiles should be accustomed to since he's been on the receiving end of it for months, ever since his dad find him in the middle of the woods.

Scott grabbed Stiles by his forearm and pulled him away. "Alright, we'll catch you later." he said dragging Stiles away from my house. I sighed closing my eyes for a moment and bathed in the sun that wad finally shining down on us even though it's fall, the temperature was in the low seventies but that's as high as we'll get.

When I opened my eyes, Stiles's jeep was driving away with both of them in it. I turned to Mr. Stilinski and gave a faux smile. "Let's get started." I said racing in my pocket and grabbing my keys, I unlocked the door and opened it while stepping in.

As Mr. Stilinski stepped over the threshold I paused, something didn't feel right. I tilted my head trying to figure out why I had the sudden urge to run, was someone else in my home? I frowned, no that wasn't it, even then I'm with the sheriff who has a gun.

I dismissed the feeling and closed the door behind heading into the living room where Mr. Stilinski was standing in front of the fire place looking at an old picture of Lucy, Giselle and I; it was taken in the before time, before the time I knew my mother had abandoned me to live her life while my grandmother gave up hers to raise me.

I always thought that hadn't been fair but my grandmother never complained, not even when I went through my rebellious stage when I was fourteen, probably since it only lasted nine months before I turned fifteen and became focused on school again. But she took the bad things I did in stride, she didn't yell our best like most parents did but age key me know how disappointed she was that I was wasting my potential by smoking and drinking my life away, and even hit me with 'I raised toy better than this'.

That same night I stayed in the house, on punishment, like I was supposed to instead of sneaking out, so yeah, my rebellious stage was pretty short and lame.

Mr. Stilinski turned toward me. "So, Sam," he began sitting in the lovers seat with his hands filed on his lap, I sat across from him on the long couch patiently waiting for him to start, "our investigators liked through the car your grandmother was driving, it wasn't her own," that was obvious since I have her car here, "and they found that the breaks had been tampered with."

I gulped down the rising anger as I pictured the box of cords that sat on top of my refrigerator in a blue box with that sorry ass note inside. "So, she didn't die in an accident but was murdered." I said as if the information was new to me.

Mr. Stilinski nods. "Right, so we went though a list came up short, so I wanted to ask you if there was anyone suspicious hanging around your home or If your grandmother made any new friends or if any old ones would want to do her barn?" he asked.

New friends? No, she's been friends with the same people since we moved in this house eight years ago, mostly the neighbors but they were all the same age as her and they loved my grandmother. Anyone suspicious? No, but I wouldn't know that since my grandmother had been leaving town so often. I told Mr. Stilinski that much.

He frowned contemplating. "What about family members? I remember Giselle telling me about her sisters, Sandra and Sylvia? Has she seen or talked to them recently?"

"My aunt Sandra, I haven't heard from in years but she has been over to see my aunt Sylvia."

Mr. Stilinski pulled out a notepad and began writing something down. "Alright, when was that?" he asked.

"About a week ago." the most recent visit at least.

"Did you talk to her during that time?" he asked.

I raised a brow. "My grandmother? Of course."

"No, your aunt Sylvia." he corrected.

"Oh, then no, I haven't heard from her."

"That's good, or bad,, because Sylvia Wiiliams died four months ago in May." he claimed.

My jaw dropped, what? I stood from my seat and glared down at him. "That's impossible, my grandmother had been over there numerous times and if my aunt was dead I would know." That wasn't exactly true, both my aunts lived far away, aunt Sandra lived across the country in Virginia while my aunt Sylvia lived in New-Orleans. Both were too far for me to keep tabs on my extended family members.

Mr. Stilinski stood up also with a sympathetic look in his eyes. "I'm sorry Sam but it's true, I told you we had a list that lead us no where but like you I also remember your grandmother telling me she was visiting a sister when she asked be to watch after you, Sylvia was the first was I checked."

I didn't know my aunt Sylvia much, other than the random conversations we had when she called to talk to my grandmother, but I always liked her. I fell back into my seat and dropped my head into my hands. I heard heavy footsteps heading toward me before the seat next to me dipped and then an arm wrapped around my shoulder. "I'm so sorry, Sam," Mr. Stilinski apologized, "no kid should go through something like this, especially not after a great loss." he muttered. I didn't respond, I'm too tired to. "If you want to can come stay with Stiles and I." he suggested.

I thought back to the tension in the jeep on the drive over here and shook my head, if I went over there and stayed around Stiles for more than five hours, HE'D end up missing. I shook my head. "No thanks, I'll stay here."

Mr. Stilinski didn't move for a good five minutes before he posted my back comfortingly and stood from his seat. "Just remember that if you need me, you can come to me for anything." he said departing, I heard the door open and shut.

I lifted my head from my hands when the feeling hit me again, something was wrong but I couldn't figure out what. I stood up from my seat, "Derek, are you here?" I asked nervously. I let out a relieved sigh when I heard a familiar grunt.

I walked up the stairs and into my room expecting to see Derek laying in my bed so casually that someone else would think it was his, and reading a book but instead what I saw made my soul want to escape the shell that is my body. Derek was gagged and tied against my chair, he was still shirtless but his skin was pale, coated with sweat and blood, his eyes were flickering between green and blue, and his chest was rising and falling rapidly. He looked like he did when he was shot with that weird bullet but that wasn't the case this time, what he was tied up with wasn't rope but the vines of wolfsbane.

I ran over to him and jerked the balled up shirt, my shirt, and tossed it away. "Damn it Derek, who the hell did this to you?" I demanded.

He barred his teeth at me as I tugged at the vines trying to break them. "I don't know, he snuck me from behind and was using something to distort his voice, he even injected be with wolfsbane." Derek Said through clenched teeth.

I groaned moving behind him. "Is he still here?" I asked, this was why I felt as if I wanted to run, whoever did this obviously came here for me but was prepared to deal with a werewolf.

Derek shook his head. "No, I think he heard the sheriff pull up with his deputies and ran."

I nodded knelling behind the chair where the knot was binding his wrists together tugged at it with my telekinesis and watched as the vines fell from around Derek's wrists. It didn't take long for me to do the same with the other bindings.

Once released, Derek aid up and stretched, I was still kneeling on the ground gathering the vines. When I stood, I saw Derek's back was still facing me and frowned at what I saw in the center of his back, it was a spiral just under Derek's tattoo.

I walked closer and placed my hand on the spot just under the cut. "Vengeance?"

"He kept muttering it and then something in Italian but I couldn't figure out what." Derek said.

"I'm curious to know as to how he was able to sneak up on you." I muttered still rubbing the same area just below the spiral on Derek's back as it healed.

Derek sighed turning around to face me with an irritated glare on his face. "He was wearing your clothes when I came in so I thought it was you, obviously I was wrong." he said crossing his arms over his chest and if I didn't know better I'd say he was pouting too.

"Way wrong." I agreed.

"But he won't be coming back any time soon." I raised a brow. "I was able to stab him in his stomach and clawed his face."

I glanced down art the blood on his chest. "So, that isn't your blood?" I asked, excitement bubbled in my stomach.

"No, it's his."

"Good, because now I have a way to find him and when I do, I'm going to kill him." I promised, I grabbed the shirt that had been used to gag Derek and used it to wipe up some of the blood, a requirement for the spell I plan on using to find this psycho. I felt Derek's watching me the entire time as I freed him of the blood splattered on his chest.

"You want revenge?" he asked.

I looked up into his eyes surprised by the question. "What? No, I mean yes, I mean...I don't know, maybe." Okay, before I did want to get some satisfaction by hurting this guy but the way Derek said it in only few a few words made question my intentions.

Derek raised a dark brow, I lost confidence and dropped my gaze back down to his chest, which was mostly clean. I tensed when a finger hooked under my chin and forced my head back up. "Revenge won't make you feel better."

I scoffed brushing away his hand. "I beg to differ because just thinking of this guy on the ground with a knife to the gut makes me feel better." I countered and threw the bloody shirt over my shoulder.

I walked into my bathroom and grabbed an unused rag, after dipping it under the warm water from my sink, I walked back into my room and handed Derek the rag. I gave a false smile. "I'm going to go do the spell to find him." I said.

I went downstairs to the kitchen where my grandmother's grimoire was sitting on the counter. I flicked my wrist and watched as the book sprawled open, the pages flipping until the stopped on the spell I needed. A locator spell. This guy hadn't been too prepared to face a werewolf of Derek's caliber if Derek was able to get enough blood for me to repeat this spell twenty times over, or maybe he was expecting Scott.

I didn't necessarily believe Derek was better than Scott but he was definitely stronger, faster and more experienced, not to mention he was born what he is. There's always more power and strength in blood, heritage and ancestry. Like where a practitioner witch could manipulate magic to some degree, they wouldn't have the power to do it like a natural witch could.

I dismissed the thought as I was getting off track and refocused on the grimoire in front of me. I read over the incantation I needed to chant but before I could reach the last word the book slammed shut.

I frowned staring at it; I opened it to the page, manually, and glared when it slammed shut again and shifted a couple inches away from me.

This is weird, I sat on the silence for a moment, I could hear the shower running upstairs meaning Derek was washing up, good because I don't need his negativity on top of the fact that the grimoire was denying me the spell but a little defiance wouldn't stop me.

I lashed out with my telekinesis imagining hands curling around the book dragging the grimoire toward me. The book only moved an inch. I almost growled at the inanimate object. "What the hell is going on?" I questioned no one.

"Don't do it, Sammy," I heard. My throat constructed slightly, I knew that voice.

Grandma?

A warm feeling settled in the pit of my stomach. I pivoted my head around to catch a glance of my witch of a grandmother, I could feel her presence surrounding me, threatening to down me in it. I turned and looked across the island and there she was, standing there with a soft smile on her face, that smile hadn't been on her face in a long time, ir at least since my powers manifested, it made my heart sore. "Grams." I muttered.

She reached up and brushed away a strand of hair. "Don't do it Sam, you aren't ready."

I frowned. "What?" I breathed out harshly, I felt add if I could breath correctly. "You're-you're dead and..." I couldn't even finish the sentence before my eyes were brimming with tears.

Her smile fell, I felt a little guilty that peaceful look had been potted from her face but my pain outweighed that. She sighed, her green eyes weren't even trained on me anymore it was on the bloody shirt.

Before I knew it the shirt was set up in flames, i gasped standing up and getting away before it could burn me, on instinct I magically threw the burning shirt in the sink. Fortunately, it landed on the sink. I watched in shock and despair as the shirt was burned to a crisp. "What the hell?" I spat out angrily. "You just studied destroyed the thing that could-"

"Get you killed?" She interrupted. "I know and I didn't plan on seeing you where I am before you turned twenty years old, I'd like to keep it that way."

I couldn't handle it anymore. "What the hell? You shouldn't want anything! You're dead! About to be cremated and buried in the ground! Dead people can't make decisions for the living!" I sneered at her.

The usual look of indignant anger that would appear in my grandmother's face whenever I would raise my voice was absent, it served to piss me off even more, especially with those sympathetic eyes starting at me. "I'm sorry, I really an but it's for the best, you aren't ready."

"My being ready or not isn't going to stop that freak from coming after me again!" I snapped clenching by fists.

Her eyes shifted before they refocused. "We'll keep him away from you but that's ask we'll do, you can't face him, you aren't ready for any of this."

"You're damn right I'm not ready!" How dare she come here and think she can run my life after leaving me. "I'm not ready to see you go! I'm not ready to bury you! I'm not ready to live without you! I'm not ready to deal with death! I'm not ready to let go! I'm not ready to say goodbye!" I shouted at her ghost before falling to my knees after they began trembling. All the anger I felt drained from my body and left me feeling like I just ran to Mexico and back.

I began sobbing and back on my rear end, I wrapped my arms around my legs abd brought then to my chest. Damn, I'm losing it! How the hell do I get up after this? How would I find this guy now? I felt a hand touch my back but didn't move. The hand was wet and leaving damp marks in my shirt, it was obviously Derek.

He didn't say anything, I expected nothing less from Derek, and just rubbed my back in an attempt to comfort me...it didn't not work. After a few minutes I was able to calm myself; I felt Derek shift a little. "Are you alright now?" he asked.

I nodded my head but said nothing else, I don't plan on telling Derek about what I just saw. If she hasn't destroyed the only thing the could lead me to get murderer, I would have said I was delusional because I saw my grandma a few minutes ago.

I broke away from Derek and stood up, I grabbed the grimoire from off the counter and walked out if the kitchen.

I walked into my room and threw the grimoire on my bed. I'm tired and pissed, I need a warm shower. I ventured into my bathroom while having the hem of my shirt but paused when I saw what was on my sink. A bloody rag.

And just like that my entire attitude changed. I felt a large smirk grow on my face as picked up the bloody rag.

(End)

Alright, Sammy is spiralling and looking for revenge, sorry Giselle but your grandson is hardheaded and stubborn. Though I am putting his revenge on hold for now and will be getting back to the story line.

Next: Sam makes preperations for his grandmother's funeral and gets two unwanted visitors and a big surprise.

I'm still taking OC'S bios, I got some good ones. If you need an example go to the bottom of chapter 8.

I'm going through the story making corrections before moving onto the next chapter but it's coming along nicely. Thanks for all of you who has been patient.