Page 31 of Sawyer
But once Cooper was back… we’d have to deal with Garth, one way or another. And I had a feeling it wasn’t going to be pretty.
Chapter 8
Casey
“Iknow their new lead alpha. I used to teach him in grade school; he’s a good kid,” an older man said, leaning forward.
“That was almost twenty years ago. You never know. People change,” someone countered skeptically.
“Ah, who cares what the difference is between this new lead alpha and the old one? It doesn’t concern us. As long as those shifters don’t cause trouble in my store, they’re just another paying customer,” another added dismissively.
“Speak for yourself. My sandwich shop is right in front of that second-hand bookstore. After they trashed the place, there were barely any customers—shifters or humans—coming into my shop,” a frustrated shop owner shot back.
“No one comes to your place because your sandwiches are terrible,” someone else quipped, earning a round of chuckles.
The chatter grew louder, devolving into an argument about which place in town made the best sandwiches.
Other than making me hungry—since Chris and I had come straight here after work—this “meeting”, if you could even call it that, was giving me a headache.
How many times had the discussion veered off-topic? What was even on the agenda?
Supposedly, this was meant to discuss how the change in leadership among the shifters could affect the human-owned businesses and residents of the town.
Everyone seemed to wonder whether things would stay the same or if there would be changes. But instead of a constructive conversation, it had turned into a complaining session.
The older residents, who had lived here longer, seemed to take a “go with the flow” attitude. To them, it was just another pack alpha change—something to get used to and move on from.
The younger crowd, or those like me who had just moved to town or had more unfortunate experiences with the previous lead alpha’s men, were more concerned.
“There has to be something in place in case they tear up another shop!” a young woman with a worried expression called out, her voice rising with urgency.
The chatter grew even louder, with the room feeling like it was spiraling in a single direction.
The more vocal, dissatisfied voices began to dominate, feeding off each other’s frustrations. It felt like a hive mind taking shape.
Though nothing major had happened since the incident at Miles’ bookstore, the mood was shifting.
I felt a surge of irritation as I listened to the increasingly one-sided complaints.
It was as if everyone was lumping all shifters into one basket, painting them with the same broad, negative brush.
Sure, I could think of a few unpleasant ones—a certain landlord came to mind—but my interactions with shifters over the past year had been pretty limited.
So, I wasn’t the best judge of their character, but I knew enough to recognize that not all of them were the problem.
Some, like Mrs. Hill or Miles, were genuinely good people. My thoughts briefly drifted to Sawyer before I caught myself.
Before I realized it, I was on my feet. The room fell silent, every eye fixed on me.
“I need to say something,” I began, my voice trembling slightly but growing steadier as I spoke. “Not all shifters are like the ones you’re talking about. Most of them are nice and friendly.”
I hesitated; a wave of heat crept up my neck and into my cheeks, but now I couldn’t stop. “In fact, some of them are really considerate... they notice things that might seem small, like remembering your coffee order.”
I cleared my throat, realizing I might’ve said too much. “Anyway, it doesn’t make sense that we’re having this discussion without any shifters here. If we’re going to talk about this, why not invite some of them? How can we have a dialogue without hearing both sides? All this complaining won’t lead to anything if we’re just sitting here among ourselves.”
The room remained dead silent, their eyes still fixed on me.
Slowly, I sat back down, my legs feeling like jelly.