The PowWow

Jeremiah answered the door before I knocked.

He had that way about him—like he’d already decided we were coming and was just waiting for us to catch up. Jeremiah and Rebecca both had an internal Ring camera.

“Evening,” he said, stepping back to let us in.

“Evening,” I replied.

Jacob said nothing. That tracked—he’d been quiet long enough I was starting to think his lips were sewn shut.

The house hadn’t changed. Same quiet. Same warm lighting. Same smell of something faintly baked that Rebecca probably insisted wasn’t anything special and absolutely was.

Jeremiah led us into the living room. I took a seat without being told. Jacob stayed standing for a second longer than he needed to, then sat across from us, elbows on his knees, hands loose but not relaxed.

Jeremiah didn’t sit right away. He looked at Jacob first. Then at me. That was all the assessment he needed.

“You didn’t come by just to visit,” he said.

“No,” I said. “We had a run-in.”

Jeremiah nodded once. “With him.”

“Yeah.”

He finally sat. Jacob still hadn’t said a word.

I walked Jeremiah through it. No embellishment. No drama. Just the facts—the tour, the office, the gym, the fight.

And how it ended.

When I finished, the room went quiet again. Jeremiah leaned back slightly, eyes settling on Jacob.

“And you lost,” he said.

Jacob nodded once. “Yeah.”

No defensiveness. No excuses. Just that. Rebecca stepped in then, like she always did when things got too still.

“I made coffee,” she said, already setting mugs down like it wasn’t a question.

“Thank you,” I said.

Jacob gave a small nod. She rested a hand briefly on his shoulder as she passed behind him. Didn’t say anything. Didn’t need to. Then she was gone again.

Jeremiah picked up his mug, didn’t drink from it.

“What did you think would happen?” he asked.

Jacob frowned slightly. “I don’t know.”

“That’s not true.”

Jacob looked up, finally meeting his eyes. “I thought I could handle it.”

Jeremiah tilted his head. “Handle it… how?”

Jacob hesitated. That was new.

“Control it,” he said finally. “I thought I had control of the situation.”

There it was. Jeremiah let that sit for a moment.

Then, quietly, “You don’t doubt your strength.”

Jacob didn’t answer.

“You doubt your control.”

The words didn’t land loud. They didn’t need to.

Jacob leaned back slightly, like he’d been pushed without being touched.

“That’s not—” he started.

Then stopped. Because it was.

Jeremiah didn’t press, he didn’t need to.

“Strength isn’t new to you,” he went on. “It never has been.”

He gestured vaguely between the two of us. “You’ve both lived with that.”

I kept my mouth shut. Jacob nodded faintly.

“But control…” Jeremiah continued, “control is where you’ve always drawn the line.”

Jacob’s jaw tightened.

“I don’t want to cross it,” he said.

Jeremiah nodded. “No. You don’t.”

A small pause.

“But you’re starting to believe the line is the point.”

That hung there. Jacob didn’t have an answer for that one.

I watched him, not Jeremiah. Watched the way Jacob processed it. He wasn’t rejecting it. He just didn’t know what to do with it.

Jeremiah set his mug down.

“Did you think you’d win because you were right?” he asked.

Jacob looked up again, slower this time.

“I thought—” He stopped. Reset. “I thought if I stayed within it… I’d be fine.”

“Within what?” Jeremiah asked.

“Control. I thought I could control it. ”

Jeremiah gave a small, almost sympathetic smile. “Control doesn’t protect you from being wrong.”

Jacob looked down at his hands. Nobody spoke for a few seconds. The kind of silence that wasn’t empty—it was just full of things no one had figured out how to say yet. I felt it click somewhere in the back of my head.

Not fully. Not enough to put words to. But enough to know this wasn’t about losing a fight.

Jeremiah finally stood.

“Be careful what you decide your strength is for,” he said.

Not a warning exactly. But close enough. We didn’t stay much longer after that. There wasn’t anything left to say.

Outside, the night air felt colder than it should’ve. Jacob didn’t move toward the Highlander   right away. He just stood there for a second, looking down. Barefoot.

Like always.

I didn’t say anything. I was still putting it together. Because for the first time since the gym, I wasn’t thinking about how Nathanial had won.

I was thinking about why Jacob thought he should’ve fought at all.Nathanial fought to prove he was the apex.

Jacob…

I paused.

Jacob fought to prove his faith was greater.

Pride, what a terrible monster you are.