Page 44 of Jacob Michaels Is Not Jacob Michaels

When Lucas came to a gravel-flinging stop in Oma’s driveway at the front of the house, I had my door open before he had put the truck into park. The lights were on in the living room, and everything looked peaceful. No paparazzi, no strange cars, no wolves circling the house hungrily, looking for a little girl in a red cloak. Everything looked as it always did. Lucas’ door popped open as I slammed my door and started for the house. Lucas fell in beside me, his hand finding mine as we hurriedly walked towards the house and up the porch steps, looking over our shoulders every few steps.

“Do you think they followed us?” Lucas whispered.

“I hope not,” I said. “But I really hope they didn’t get here before we did.”

“Mrs. Wagner is okay, Rob.” He nodded his head furiously, as though trying to convince us both. “I just know it.”

“That makes me feel strangely better.”

Making our way up the steps, I let go of Lucas’ hand once we were on the porch so that I could open the front door, allowing it to swing wide. Before I had even stepped over the threshold, I spotted Oma. She was kicked back on the sofa with her feet up on the coffee table, enjoying the fire. A mug of tea was in her hand, and the shotgun was sitting on the coffee table beside her feet. My breath came out in a relieved sigh, and Lucas smiled widely at me as we entered the house. It wasn’t until I was inside the house, with Oma within eyeshot that I felt my heart rate finally begin to return to normal.

Lucas’ hand once again found mine and I turned my head to look into his eyes, a smile immediately coming to my face. He looked back at me, and his hand squeezed mine again. I didn’t know what we had achieved at the football stadium, as far as memories go, but I knew that what I’d felt since the night the three wolves tried to attack me in the backyard was real. I could see in Lucas’ eyes that, no matter what else had happened at the stadium, he was glad we had gone. The way he gripped my hand let me know that he never wanted to let it go if he could avoid that. I reached out and brushed his sandy hair off of his forehead and away from his eyes before giving him a quick kiss.

“Oma,” I turned away from a smiling Lucas, “we’re home.”

“Ya’ think I didn’t hear the damn door?” She announced over her shoulder. “I’m old, not fuckin’ deaf.”

Lucas laughed.

“Are you okay?” I asked, heading into the living room, pulling Lucas after me.

“Don’t I look okay?” She frowned up at me as we rounded the sofa to stand before her. She raised her mug in salute. “Got my tea, got my fire, and I’m pretty sure I peppered some of those sonsofbitches as they was runnin’ away.”

“I saw you, Oma.” I shook my head with a smile. “You were aiming for the sky.”

“Well,” She waggled her head, “I still think a few of ‘em shit their pants. Did some damage either way. You boys ever not touchin’ up on each other? Jesus.”

She gestured at our clasped hands.

Lucas and I smiled at each other and let our hands slide away from each other’s as Oma took another sip of her tea. When Lucas gave me a stern look and jerked his head in Oma’s direction, I knew pleasantries had to end sometime. I turned to my grandmother and sighed deeply.

“We have another problem.”

“What the fuck did you idiots do now?” She pulled her legs off of the coffee table to sit forward. “Where the hell did you two go anyway?”

“The football field,” Lucas responded for us.

Oma’s brow furrowed as she looked over at him.

“We…needed to see something,” I added.

“Thought you’d take a stroll down memory lane?” She rolled her eyes.

Her statement was like a punch to my gut. But I didn’t have the time to dissect a statement from my grandmother that could have been completely flippant. The way Lucas’ hand grabbed mine again let me know that my instincts were not off. Oma had said something spot on, my gut was telling me something, and Lucas’ grip was letting me know that he knew something.

“We ran into more werewolves.” I ignored the previous statement. “Eight of them.”

Oma whistled with wide eyes.

“Well, I’m impressed.” She took a sip of her tea. “If I was bettin’ on you two idiots against eight werewolves, well, I would have been expecting to lose that bet.”

“Thanks.” I snorted.

“Just sayin’.” She shrugged. “That’s four on two. You two can barely wipe your own asses without accidentally finger-bangin’ yourselves on accident. Didn’t think you was capable of handling yourselves so well.”

“Oh. My. God.” I looked upwards as Lucas laughed nervously.

“I just meant you done a good job.”