Page 26 of Jacob Michaels is Trouble

Andrew’s office was nicer than I had imagined it would be. When I had only been back in Point Worth for a little over a week, Oma had introduced us while we were volunteering at the Toledo LGBTQ+ center. Probably because we were both gay and for no other discernible reason, such as she thought we’d actually get along. Regardless of our compatibility, Andrew and I went to dinner, he acted like a douchebag, and then he turned into a werewolf on the drive back to Oma’s house—after trying to grab my junk and generally act like a turd. Just like any other normal first date, really.

Due to the epic failure that was our first date—Andrew essentially trying to murder me when he was in wolf form—I had decided immediately that Andrew was not to be trusted. Of course, a short amount of time and regaining my memories had given me some perspective. It’s funny how that happens, really. Someone pisses you off, and you try to push them out of your mind, relegate them to the “distant memory” file, and then when you forget that there was information in that file when it becomes possibly useful later. Andrew’s and my date, and our few discussions afterward pointed towards information that I likely needed.

“Well,” Andrew reached up to rub his head which had recently been shaved again, giving it a nice, clean sheen, “now that you kind of demanded that I see you, Rob…what’s up?”

I sat back in the chair, crossing my legs gently as I stared across the desk at Andrew.

“Did you recognize me the first time we met?” I asked though that was not why I had come to Andrew’s place of employment.

“Uh,” Andrew seemed perplexed, “yes.”

Slowly, my head started to nod. “It kind of dawned on me that you were poking around for information about my job and financial situation during the date because you wanted me to admit who I was. Of course, I didn’t realize it until much later. Thought you were just a massive douche at the time.”

Andrew frowned.

“Is that why you came all the way from Point Worth?” He asked evenly. “To ask if I knew you were Jacob Michaels and insult me further?”

I waved him off.

“Not especially.” I shook my head. “I realized that people often say things without actually saying them. Or they say something that kind of relates to what they want to say, hoping that the other person will pick up on it and do the talking for them.”

Andrew just stared at me.

I figured there was a button for security under his fancy desk and soon his manicured hands would be groping for it.

“You don’t have a pack,” I said, leaning forward.

“No.”

“That’s weird, right?”

“How would you know if that’s weird?” His brow furrowed so deeply I worried his face might crack and bleed. “You’re not exactly an expert. Are you?”

“No.” I shook my head. “It just seems that all shifters—werewolves—belong to a pack or ‘family’ of some kind, right?”

“I guess.”

“You don’t,” I said. “Why?”

“There’s only one pack around here that I know of and I don’t want to be a part of it.”

“Jason’s pack?” The corner of my mouth turned up.

“Uh, yeah.”

“You don’t have a problem giving them information, though.” My eyebrow raised against my will as I stared Andrew down from across the desk. “I mean, Oma is pissed at you. Like, super pissed. She already threatened to…uh, flip her chicken…on Jason. Her words. Not mine. Obviously. You will probably be the next person she goes batshit crazy on.”

“What did she do to Jason?” Andrew’s eyes were like saucers.

I waved him off.

“After I blasted him into the kitchen counter, she just pinned him there with the table.” I rolled my eyes. “Nothing all that drastic. He walked out of the house on his own two legs. Nary a scratch.”

Andrew gave me a horrified look yet said nothing as I smiled evilly at him.

“She was all upset because he disrespected her multiple times, nearly broke her kitchen table, yada yada yada.” I gave a vaguely bored flip of my hand. “She might be madder at you for running to Jason and crying about Lucas plowing into you with his truck. Like you aren’t perfectly fine.”

Andrew’s horrified expression changed to one of “fight or flight.” Maybe I was lying a little to him in order to put him on edge, but the fact was that Oma had been pissed off about Andrew talking to Jason after the whole incident with Lucas’ truck. Of course, she had probably forgotten all about being upset with Andrew due to other things that had occurred since. Oma had a good memory when it came to getting even with people who had pissed her off, so maybe I wasn’t entirely off base.