Jacob Michaels Is Not Jacob Michaels (A Point Worth LGBTQ Paranormal Romance Book 3)

by Chase Connor

  “I just meant you done a good job.”

  “I only got one of them, Oma.” I snapped. “We ran.”

  She jabbed a finger at me.

  “That sounds more accurate.” She nodded.

  “Yeah, well,” I stammered, “I don’t really have a response for that right now. But they knew my name, Oma—not Jacob Michaels. They knew my real name. I’d never seen any of them before in my life. I didn’t know any of those guys. Never seen them before in my life.”

  “What they look like?”

  “I mean,” I glanced at Lucas, he shrugged, “just normal guys, I guess. All of them had eyes like the wolves the other night and then that dead woman the other morning. Red. Glowing. Kind of. One of them said we had a score to settle. I assume it’s because of what I did to their pack member the other night.”

  “I hope you never get called as an eye witness for nothin’.” Oma shook her head in disgust. “Didn’t notice hair color, heights, sizes…nothin’?”

  “Well, no.” I sighed.

  Lucas was no help. He just looked at me and shrugged nervously as Oma examined us both.

  “Eight of ‘em?” Oma set her mug on the coffee table and rubbed her chin. “All fellas?”

  I thought about that.

  “Yes.” I nodded. “I’m pretty sure they were all male.”

  Oma waggled her head.

  She opened her mouth as if to say something, but the sound of distant rumbling engines sounded outside, far away at first but growing closer. Oma sighed to herself as headlights flashed through the front room windows. She looked up at me and then stood from the couch.

  “Stands to reason they’d know more than your name, I guess.” She motioned for Lucas and me to step aside. “I guess we’ll have to talk to ‘em. See what the hell they want.”

  “What?” I gasped, refusing to move. “You’re not going out there, Oma. And we know what the hell they want!”

  Somehow Oma pushed between Lucas and me in order to get to the front door. Lucas reached down and snatched the shotgun off of the coffee table quickly as I tried to reason with Oma. The engines shut off outside and I could hear doors creaking open. The headlights died off, and the front room was left in the ambient glow of the lamps and fireplace.

  “Ain’t no shells in it, Lucas.” She waved him off. “Won’t do you no good.”

  “Where are the shells?” I asked desperately.

  “Gave ‘em to Lena to hide ‘em, smartass.” She waggled her head. “One of your brilliant ideas—like burning up werewolves and going out to the football stadium at night.”

  “You still can’t go out there.” I grabbed her arm. “Those men are not playing around, Oma.”

  “Get your damn hand off me.” She snapped. “I can still whip your ass if I have to, Robbie.”

  My hand slowly slid from her arm as I frowned down at her.

  “I’ll go out here and talk to these fellas and send them on their way.” She gestured vaguely. “I’ll clean up your damn mess.”

  “How is this my mess?”

  “Ya’ killed one of theirs didn’t ya’?”

  “Maybe?”

  “You was so certain the other day.” She waggled her head. “I’ll get rid of ‘em.”

  “Oma.” I pleaded. “Seriously. Let’s call Sheriff Dennard.”

  She scoffed. “Yeah. Get his tubbly ass out of bed and get him over here in under an hour. You go on and do that while I talk to these assholes out on my damn lawn. Probably left tire tracks.”

  “Mrs. Wagner—” Lucas tried to help, but Oma had already reached for the knob of the door.

  My grandmother flipped the porch light on and swung the door wide until the knob bounced against the wall behind it but not hard enough to leave a mark or indention. Lucas and I chased after her. We didn’t want to go outside and face a group of men who were out for our blood, but we couldn’t let my grandmother do it on her own either. Oma walked across the porch and stood at the top of the steps, her arms crossing over her chest and coming to rest there. Lucas and I ran up behind her, Lucas taking her right side and me taking her left.

  Three late 80s model single cab pickup trucks had pulled up in Oma’s yard, all in a row, side by side. All of the men had climbed out and lined up in front of the trucks in a wide arc, surrounding the front porch. I reached out to grab Oma’s arm but she gave me a look, and I pulled my hand away as though I had been slapped. Lucas glanced at me, fear in his eyes as Oma crossed her arms over her chest and looked down at the men. There should have been seven men in the yard since I had wounded one of them when I climbed the fence to get out of the stadium. A quick count let me know that there was exactly eight men standing before us.

  All of the men, now that I had time to look at them without the immediate danger of being hurt, looked strikingly similar. All of them had dark hair, though some of them had long hair, some short, some nearly buzzed to their scalp. Some were tall, some were average, but they all had a generic look to their faces—if it weren’t for the red eyes. The porch light shining on them made it harder to tell if their eyes were actively glowing. They all wore jeans and denim shirts with familiar tan coats thrown over them to ward off the early Spring chill in the air.

  “Well,” Oma looked out at the men, “it’s a little late to be comin’ for a visit, boys. But if I’d known you was comin’, I’d have baked a cake.”

  “Esther Jean.” The guy at the center of the arc of men stepped forward.

  “Put one foot on my steps and you’ll be running with three paws come the full moon, Jason Morris,” Oma replied blandly.

  The name sounded familiar.

  Jason Morris chuckled but didn’t move any closer.

  “Whatchu boys doin’ on my damn property?” Oma asked, her hands movin’ to her hips. “Pretty sure I told you if I saw you on my property I’d have to do somethin’ about it.”

  “We don’t have any quarrel with you, Esther Jean.” Jason, the obvious leader, replied. “We’re here for Rob.”

  “Well,” Oma said, “that’s unfortunate since he’s on my damn property, ain’t it?”

  “Esther Jean—”

  “You don’t show me the respect you was raised with, and I’ll take two of your damn paws, Jason Morris.” Oma snapped.

  “Oma,” I grumbled.

  Jason Morris seemed to flush, but he didn’t snap back at Oma or make a move towards the porch. All of his cohorts seemed to snicker, though they did their best to hide it.

  “Mrs. Wagner.” He said finally. “We don’t want to cause trouble.”

  “I don’t need no damn puppies thinking they can piss wherever they want.” Oma snapped. “You started your damn trouble when three y’all wandered up into my yard and tried to attack my grandson. He was just defending himself.”

  “He’s been hurting weres,” Jason replied evenly.

  “Only when they attack him.” Oma waggled her head. “Stop actin’ like y’all ain’t got no damn sense, and maybe you won’t get hurt.”

  “Bullshit, Mrs. Wagner.” Jason spat, suddenly very angry, though he was smart enough not to move a single inch forward. “He hurt Andrew and he hurt Katie.”

  Andrew said he only talked to other werewolves about shop. I suddenly realized that he had told more details than needed.

  “Andrew got handsy with him and then tried to make him dinner.” Oma shrugged. “And I’m assuming Katie was the naked girl who wandered up into our yard the other morning. She tried to attack him, too. Along with two more of y’all. If y’all came that night to get revenge for Andrew’s boo-boo’s—I’ll be talking to his sorry ass about this, by the way—then you was misled. Andrew is perfectly fine. And, technically, Rob ain’t had nothin’ to do with Andrew gettin’ banged up. This one here ran into him with a truck.”

  Oma hooked a thumb at Lucas.

  Lucas was ashen as he swallowed a lump in his throat.

  “Fine.” Jason snarled. “He’ll take the punishment for Andrew and Rob wi
ll take the punishment for Katie.”

  The rest of the pack snarled along with Jason. Seeing eight grown men snarling like wolves in human form, along with the sound of it, made my stomach drop.

  “One you bastards gets even the slightest bit furry,” Oma warned, “and we’re gonna have another damn barbecue right now.”

  Oma raised a hand, and the snarling stopped. One of the guys actually yipped as though he had been kicked.

  “We’re owed justice!” Jason snapped.

  More snarls sounded, but they were silenced quickly by a glare from Oma. She turned her head slowly, looking at all of the men in turn, her eyes finally returning to center, to focus on Jason.

  “You got a dick in your ear, son,” Oma said calmly, her hand going back to her hip. “Andrew got hit because he tried to attack Rob. Rob wasn’t the one who hurt him. Then y’all came up on my property in the middle of the goddamn night to try to get revenge on the wrong person, and that person defended themselves. Seems to me you should be kickin’ each other’s asses for being so goddamn dumb. ‘Course, y’all wasn’t exactly the top of your class, so I don’t expect you to be very damn smart now.”

  Jason just glowered at Oma.

  “Tell me,” Oma continued, “why was…Katie…still burned all to hell the next mornin’? She shoulda been fine once she had a few hours. But she came up in my yard lookin’ like someone melted half her body like a candle.”

  “She was one of our young ones.”

  “Young?” My head whipped to Oma.

  “He just means new,” Oma spoke out of the corner of her mouth. “She wasn’t no damn child.”

  “She wasn’t an old woman who was ready for death, either!” Jason bellowed.

  More snarls.

  Lucas and I fidgeted as the men all glowered up at us, their eyes really glowing, even in the light provided by the porch, their teeth gnashing.

  Oma started to cackle.

  Slowly, the snarling and teeth gnashing tapered off and all of the men were looking at Oma again, unsure of themselves.

  “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you just threatened me, Jason.” Oma actually bent down to slap her knee. “And that is just too damn precious for words. I done told you that if you boys showed up on my property again that I wouldn’t be happy with you and now here you are testin’ my patience. Your balls are bigger than your brains. Though I’m sure both are tiny.”

  Jason Morris looked around, fidgeting slightly as he looked at his comrades. The way that they were twitching, I wasn’t so sure that they were loyal enough to have his back against Oma. Though, I wasn’t sure exactly why that was. I had never seen anything besides Oma’s shotgun and her tongue that did much damage.

  “Now,” Oma shook her head with a sigh, “the way I see it, you feel you’re owed something over Andrew’s little boo-boo’s even though he ain’t in with y’all—again, he will be hearing from me, so you let him know that—and you’re owed something over Katie’s death. Even though both was their own damn faults. Am I right?”

  “That’s about the size of it.” Jason nodded, trying to look menacing, but failing spectacularly as he stared up at my elderly, small grandmother.

  “Mm.” Oma snorted. “Well, I know where you live. We’ll be sure you get money to pay for Katie’s funeral. Make sure she’s buried proper-like and has a decent headstone. So her family—if any still claim her—ain’t put out with anything more than grief. You’ll need to make up a story to Sheriff Dennard, so he knows who he’s got in the morgue.”

  “Oma…”

  “Shut up.” She snapped at me out of the corner of her mouth.

  “What about Andrew?” Jason snarled.

  His cohorts didn’t do anything but look up at Oma.

  “He ain’t one of yours.” Oma shrugged. “If he feels he’s owed something for getting banged up by someone defending themselves, he knows where to find me. But I guarantee you he won’t come looking for compensation. So, that settle your hash, Jason Morris?”

  Jason stood at the base of the steps, looking up at Oma, the wheels creaking in his head. Finally, he nodded.

  “I need to hear you say it out loud in front of your pack here, Jason.” Oma grinned. “Let’s hear ya’ say, ‘Yes, Mrs. Wagner. That will settle us up.’ Can you be a good boy and do that for me?”

  Jason glowered at her, but he still followed directions.

  “That will settle us up, Mrs. Wagner.”

  “Good.” Oma’s hands fell from her hips.

  “Now, Robbie, say you’re sorry for giving Katie what she deserved.” Oma turned her head to me with a shit-eating grin.

  “You just hold on!” Jason jabbed a finger up at Oma, which was not all that threatening considering how docile he became just from her chewing him out. “What about Darrell? Your damn grandson set him on fire back at the stadium!”

  Oma turned back to Jason with a roll of his eyes.

  “Is Darrell dead?”

  “No.” Jason snapped, but his heart wasn’t in it. “He’ll be fine when he changes back. But he probably won’t have much fur until he changes at least a dozen more times.”

  “Poor thing,” Oma stated simply.

  “What are you gonna do about that, old—Mrs. Wagner?”

  “What part of ‘don’t attack people and you won’t get burnt’ don’t you understand, you fuckin’ moron?” Oma snapped. “I ain’t doin’ shit about someone getting’ hurt by someone defending themselves. I’m only havin’ pity on Katie ‘cause she’s dead, and everyone deserves a proper funeral.”

  “That’s not good enough!”

  “You just said it was, ya’ dumb shit.” Oma was raising her hand again. The men before us all blanched. “Now y’all just hear your Pack Alpha go back on his word?”

  Jason looked around nervously at his “men.”

  “That’s not fair!” Jason squeaked. “You tricked me, Mrs. Wagner!”

  “Like that’s really damn difficult.” Oma snorted. “I spoke plainly to you about the terms, and you forgot about Darrell until it was done. Besides, Darrell will be just fuckin’ fine from the way it sounds. Send him my best.”

  “Your grandson can’t just go around acting like he’s so goddamn special, setting our people on fire, thinking he can just get away with it!”

  “I was wrong.” Oma shook her head in disgust. “You got a dick in both your damn ears, Jason Morris. This matter is settled.”

  “No the hell it is not.” He growled and stepped forward.

  My vision flashed hot and red, then suddenly Jason was jumping backward, and his men were scattering. I hadn’t even suspected Oma would react in such a way, nor had I seen it happen, but Oma had blasted him back without a single thought about it. Once the red cleared from my vision, Jason was on his ass, and all of his pack members were scattered, hiding behind their trucks. I glanced over at Lucas, and he was looking at me with wide eyes, a grin slowly blooming on his face. I gave him a nervous smile, trying not to laugh at what Oma had just done to a group of men with more testosterone than neurons.

  “My fuckin’ tea is in here getting’ cold, and you think I’m just goin’ to have all the patience in the damn world, Jason?” Oma snapped down at him, her hands on her hips again.

  The soles of Jason’s boots were sending up plumes of smoke. Oma hadn’t taken a “paw,” but she had made her decision on the matter clear.

  “If you had any damn sense you’d call this a wash and get the fuck off my property, Jason.” Oma continued. “If you want to keep negotiating, I’m going to ask how you’re going to make up for the fact that you came up on my property after I illicitly told you—”

  “Explicitly,” I interjected.

  “You shut the fuck up.” Oma jabbed a finger at me. “Unless you want the ole hot foot as well!”

  I shrugged.

  Jason was getting to his feet, his knees wobbly and his shoes still smoking as his pack members slowly came out from behind their trucks.

  �
�I told you to stay off my property, and you didn’t listen.” Oma snarled down at Jason as he stood before her, shaky and smoking. “If I wanted to, I could demand my own damn compensation for your transgression. I could refuse to do a damn thing for Katie. Or I could take a paw or two. I’m bein’ pretty goddamn generous here, Jason Morris. You better consider that before you say one more damn word to me.”

  Jason took a step backward towards his truck as his eyes stayed on Oma.

  “Fine.” He spat.

  “Don’t you take no sass with me, damnit!” Oma crossed her hands over her chest, making all of the men jump again. Lucas and I exchanged another grin. “Now get your asses back into those trucks and get those pieces of shit off my lawn. You’re making the property value in the neighborhood go down by the minute.”

  Jason gave a sharp nod and started to turn.

  “And if there’s one damn rut in my fuckin’ lawn, we won’t be done here, ya’ hear me?” Oma spat.

  Jason and his pack members all rushed to their trucks like their asses were on fire, doors closing loudly as they all made their getaway. The speed with which they all pulled out, turned around, and made their way onto the driveway to get away from Oma’s property was at a much slower pace, though. They didn’t want to risk leaving any ruts. Oma watched as they all drove away down the long drive, her arms staying across her chest. When the last pair of taillights disappeared as the last truck turned onto the main road, she shook her head and turned around.

  “Oma,” I said, “that was…messed up.”

  “You’re telling me.” She huffed. “I’m gonna have to make a fresh cup of tea ‘cause of those assholes.”

  Oma entered the house, wiping her feet on the rug as though she had ventured anywhere but the porch. Lucas and I glanced at each other, exchanging confused looks. I shrugged deeply as we followed her into the house. Oma was grabbing her mug off of the coffee table and was heading towards the kitchen as Lucas closed the door behind us. My grandmother looked wholly unbothered about everything that had just happened out on her front lawn. In fact, if I hadn’t witnessed it myself, I would never have believed that a group of men had come to threaten us. I certainly wouldn’t have believed that Oma took care of the whole thing on her own.