The Date

28.

Jacob spent most of his day buried in his lair—his workshop. Hands covered with grease and desperately focused on a gearbox. It seemed every part he picked was glaring at him. It was crazy and yet he couldn't push the thought away. By lunch, Quil dropped by to deliver food cooked by Emily. Even though Jacob was not okay with the arrangement. He felt terribly guilty that he couldn't stand on his own. That somehow Sam was feeding him. Quil stood by the door as he wolfed his lunch down and still felt shameful at it.

"What will you do?" he asked while crossing his arm over his c.h.e.s.t.

"About What?" Jacob tried to ignore the obvious.

"About what Sam told me," he frowned. "I'm your Beta, I know what going on in your little head," he pouted. "I'm not okay with how our pack is," Jacob looked up from his empty plate.

"What are you going to do about it? Fight me and become the Alpha?" Quil burst out in fits of laughter. He laughed so hard he had to wipe tears from his eyes. Jacob watched him unamused.

"Are you kidding me?" Quil paused from his outburst. His smile dipped a little. "You're not kidding," he sighed. "Jacob, I don't want your throne. It's a shitty spot. Do you think I want to pick up the pieces after your little reign? No, thank you," he turned his gaze outside at the dirt road that led to Jacob's house. After a long silence, Jacob spoke up.

"I have to see Re, tonight," he hesitated. Quil pushed away from the door and stepped into the messy and gloomy workshop.

"You see, your problem is that it's all about your love life. You don't give a shit about anything else. You don't care about your pack. I'm literally keeping us together. Leah has plans for her future and Seth wants to move off the reservation. Damn it, I also want to make something out of my life. But we are stuck with you and you don't seem to know what to do with yourself," he waved his arms around. Jacob slammed his plate on a nearby table covered with scattered tools. A wrench fell off and landed on the floor with clamor. Jacob stood there, back hunched slightly, raw power radiated from his body. It rolled over Quil trying to engulf him, it left him feverish.

"I am your Alpha, I won't tolerate your tone," his voice was terribly low also a groan. Quil let out a shaking breath. He shoved his hands in his pockets.

"Right. I'm also your friend. Please, Jacob...this once, choose wisely," he turned his eyes towards the cracked plate. "And you owe Emily a new plate," he exited the workshop without looking back.