Page 19 of Jacob Michaels is Trouble

“Ya’ couldn’t take one of us, assface!” Oma admonished him. “Why the fuck would you mess with both of us at the same time?”

Jason growled angrily, his eyes starting to glow red.

“I see any fur, assface, and I’m burning it off,” I warned him, raising my hand once more.

An actual whimper escaped Jason’s throat, and he went still, though his hands still gripped the edge of the table. Oma let out a frustrated sigh and turned to me, a concerned expression on her face.

“You just sit there and think about what you done now.” She spoke over her shoulder to Jason before speaking to me. “Well, you done screwed the damn pooch again, Robbie, ain’tcha?”

“How is every damn thing my fault, Oma?” I crossed my arms over my chest, trying to look her in the eyes while keeping Jason in my peripheral vision. “Everything that goes wrong, you just conveniently blame on me. You seem to forget that none of this would be happening if you had just been honest with me when I was a kid. Maybe I would have made better choices. Or…better wishes, actually.”

“Maybe you’d be pullin’ at your pud wondering what the hell to do, too!” She retorted. “You ain’t exactly reliable when it comes to makin’ decisions, are ya’?”

“Oh my god.” I groaned and looked at the ceiling. “I didn’t make two werewolves—shifters, whatever—attack Lucas and me when we were out walking along the peninsula, did I? That’s not my fault.”

“It’s your fault you didn’t come tell me that—” She froze.

“What?”

“Why was y’all out at the Maumee last night?”

“We were talking.”

“About what?” She was squinting at me angrily, and her arms were folded over her chest once more. “What the fuck did y’all need to go out to the Maumee to talk about?”

“We were at Lounge watching Carlita perform and—”

“Carlita.” Oma hissed.

I rolled my eyes.

“That bitch.” Oma actually shook her fist.

All I could do was grin evilly.

“So,” Oma snapped at me, “I guess you did what I think you did out there in the Maumee.”

“Depends on what you mean.” I feigned innocence with a shrug and glanced over at Jason, trying to warn Oma with my eyes. “I mean, all kinds of sordid things could have happened out there, Oma.”

“Oh, fuck him.” Oma dismissed the thought of Jason listening in on our discussion. “Does Lucas have his memories back now, too?”

“Oma,” I warned her again, my eyes darting to Jason.

“Assface won’t remember none of this.” She snarled. “I’ll make sure of it.”

“Stop calling me that,” Jason grunted, trying to push the table out of his chest.

“Stay still, assface,” Oma growled at him this time.

“He does,” I said when Oma turned back to me.

“Who?” She hooted.

“Lucas.” I gave her a deadpan look. “Memories.”

“Fuckin’ great.” She threw her hands up wildly. “Just fuckin’ great, Robbie. I told you not to do that, and you did it. Do you ever just listen to what the hell I tell you?”

“I guess I’m just a rebel.”