11. Casey

Chapter 11

Casey

" W hat was your excuse for not coming up here again?" Michael asked for the umpteenth time.

On my laptop screen, I watched as my brother moved around his bedroom, packing for his fan meet-and-greet session.

He hadn't missed my excuse the first time. I knew better, and I wasn't in the mood to play along today.

"Like I said, I'm busy with the shop. We just opened, and I can't really afford to take time off."

Michael stopped in his tracks, and for a second, I wondered if the call had cut out. Then he turned toward the screen and walked over to his computer.

"Don't you have someone working for you? It's just one day. You could leave in the morning and be back by night," he said, narrowing his eyes.

Even through the screen, I could tell he was trying to catch me in a lie. But beneath that, I could hear a hint of longing in his voice. My brother missed me, and I missed him too.

Since moving to Pecan Pines, I'd only seen him once. We'd been planning this trip for months, but the timing couldn't have been worse. It fell on the same day as the town meeting—the one where I'd volunteered Sawyer to attend.

"I do, but... we've been busy with customers lately," I replied, my voice wavering.

Michael's eyes narrowed. "By ‘we,' do you mean you and by ‘customers,' do you mean some guy?"

I flinched, nearly knocking over my tumbler. "I don't know what you mean."

He leaned closer, squinting at the screen. "He's a shifter, isn't he?" Michael finally said, disapproval written all over his face.

I couldn't really blame him. After everything with Mason, my brother had every reason to be wary.

When Michael ran into him at a coffee shop months after I left, he didn't hesitate to pour his drink over Mason's head.

He even wanted to blast him all over social media—Michael's following was massive, and it would've caused serious damage.

Lisa was fully on board with the idea, but back then, I just wanted to forget.

I didn't want to hear Mason's name or think about him. I stopped Michael before things could go that far.

But how the hell did he know about Sawyer?

"Did Lisa or Chris tell you?" I asked in a quick whisper, glancing over at Chris, who was using the hose at the grooming station, its noise drowning out most of our conversation.

I hadn't mentioned Sawyer to either of them again—not about what happened after our not-date, anyway. As far as they knew, I'd only helped him with his bar's menu.

Michael leaned in closer to the camera, narrowing his eyes as he studied me.

"Look at you, Case. Even with your crappy camera, I can see the sweat on your forehead and the way your eyes are darting around. Your voice is shaky... You're nervous about me finding out something, which means this guy is someone I definitely wouldn't approve of, right?"

He paused, letting the silence stretch just long enough to make me squirm. Then, with a smirk, he added, "And based on your history, that can only mean one thing—he's a shifter."

My jaw dropped.

Who was this guy? Sure, we both liked watching true crime documentaries, but Michael was never this quick at putting things together.

When I didn't respond, Michael continued, "And you just confirmed it yourself. Your silence gave it away."

There was no point lying now. "It's this guy I met. He's really nice…" I trailed off, unsure how to continue.

I wanted to tell Michael everything about Sawyer, but for some reason, the words just wouldn't come.

Michael pursed his lips, concern flickering in his eyes. "Just be careful."

I nodded, grateful for his understanding, but still uneasy.

Michael shifted back to his original question. "So, what's the real reason you're not coming up here?"

I rolled my eyes and smiled. "It's the same day as a town meet—" I started to explain.

Before I could continue, the bell over the front door chimed. I glanced over, my heart suddenly racing. "I'll call you back," I whispered, cutting the call.

Just as I closed the laptop, Garth's voice came from the doorway. "Hope that wasn't a personal call," he said, a smirk playing on his lips.

I looked up slowly, forcing my expression to stay neutral despite the churn of anxiety in my gut.

"Family emergency," I replied quickly.

A familiar itch flared in my arm, right along the scar, as Garth's eyes swept over me. The silence between us grew heavy, making me shift in my seat.

"Did you get the rent money I sent over?" I asked, trying to sound casual, though the slight tremor betrayed me.

Garth ignored the question, his smirk deepening as he leaned in uncomfortably close.

My back straightened, instinctively leaning away, desperate to put some distance between us.

"Business seems a little slow," he remarked, his voice dripping with mock concern. "Need any help?"

I forced my eyes back to the laptop, pulling up the appointment schedule just to avoid his gaze.

"It's just a slow morning," I muttered. The itch on my arm burned now, hot and unbearable. "We're usually pretty full."

Garth leaned even closer, his face now inches from mine. I could feel the weight of his stare, and something about his presence made my skin crawl.

For a brief, unsettling moment, I thought I felt him sniffing the air around me, and I quickly stood up.

"Do you want to come around and get a better look?" I offered, stepping away from the desk, hoping the extra space would ease the pressure gripping my chest.

Garth's eyes darkened, a faint glint of gold flickering in them. His smirk deepened as he studied me.

"You and Sawyer seem to be getting closer, huh?" he said, his tone low, taunting.

Before I could respond, Chris emerged from the back room. "Hey, Case, I'm done with—oh." His eyes darted between Garth and me. His face hardened. "Everything okay here?"

Garth's expression shifted in an instant, the smirk widening and his eyes fading back to their usual brown.

"Since business is doing so well," Garth said smugly, "I think it's time we revisit the rent. My aunt's rates were set a decade ago, after all."

My stomach twisted. This wasn't about the money at all.

I swallowed hard, trying to keep my voice steady. "If it's alright with you, I'd like to discuss this at another time."

Garth's smirk stretched even wider, amusement flashing in his eyes. "Sure. Just let me know when," he said, his voice casual as if we were discussing nothing more than the weather.

Without another word, he turned and strolled out of the shop, the door swinging shut behind him.

The second he was gone, a wave of anger hit me like a punch to the gut. My vision blurred, and it wasn't until Chris stepped up beside me that I realized I'd been gripping a pair of scissors so tightly my knuckles had gone white.

His hand gently pried mine open, and I blinked, glancing down at the silver-coated blades.

I didn't even know when I had grabbed them from the stationery cubby.

Lisa had given them to me as a store-opening gift, and at the time, I'd thought it was an odd choice—fancy scissors to celebrate a new business?

She'd mentioned they were silver-coated, and it hadn't fully clicked until now why she chose them.

The cold metal felt heavy in my hand, and I released a breath I didn't realize I was holding.

"Maybe I should man the desk for the next couple of weeks," Chris said.

"Did something happen at work?" Sawyer asked.

"Huh?" I blinked, pulling myself back to the present. Sawyer's eyes were locked on mine, worry written all over his face.

I barely registered his words. My thoughts were stuck in a loop, replaying the moment Garth walked into the shop earlier.

Sawyer and I were in a pet store, and I was staring at a shelf full of toys, absentmindedly scanning it as Benny trotted between us, casting hopeful glances our way. I managed a half-hearted smile for him.

Sawyer's question lingered, and for a split second, I wondered if I should brush it off.

I didn't want to pull him into the mess with Garth. The tension between the two of them was already thick enough, and I knew only pieces of the story.

But before I could stop myself, the words spilled out. "Garth came by the store earlier."

Sawyer's expression darkened immediately, and for a moment, his eyes flickered with that faint golden hue.

My chest tightened. The last thing I wanted was for Sawyer to react impulsively, to make this worse by overreacting.

Without thinking, I reached out, wrapping my fingers around his and gently tracing circles over his pulse. Anything to keep him grounded.

"He just wanted to raise the rent, that's all," I continued, keeping my tone light. "Probably noticed business has been doing better." I forced a small smile, trying to downplay it.

Underneath my touch, I finally felt his pulse start to slow. I let out a quiet breath, not realizing how tense I'd been until that moment.

Even as he calmed down, though, there was still that glint in his eyes—something lingering just beneath the surface, something I wasn't sure I could fully reach.

"I'll talk to him," Sawyer said, his voice low, almost a growl.

"No!" The word tumbled out of my mouth faster than I intended. His brow furrowed, waiting for an explanation.

I scrambled to find the right words. "I mean, I already told him we could talk later. I don't want you to get mixed up in this. It's not worth it."

Sawyer's eyes narrowed slightly, studying me like he could sense there was more I wasn't saying.

The familiar itch along my scar flared up, and I had to look away.

It brought back too many memories—of things spiraling out of control too quickly, when a small situation could turn into something dangerous in an instant.

I didn't want to go through that again.

Not with Sawyer.

He must've noticed how anxious I was because his expression softened.

"Alright," he said quietly, though the concern in his voice hadn't completely faded. He glanced away, like he was forcing himself to let it go, for now at least. "Let's pick something quick for Benny and then grab a bite to eat."

I nodded, grateful for the change in conversation. I didn't want to think about Garth anymore—about what might happen if I let this grow, or if Sawyer got too involved.

But the fear clung to me, tight and unshakable.

As much as I wanted to believe things with Sawyer were different, part of me couldn't help but wonder if we were standing on the edge of something that could crumble at any second.

I inhaled slowly, attempting to push those thoughts aside. I knelt to pick up Benny, who was happily nudging toys around.

"What do you think of this one, buddy?" I asked, holding up a bright squeaky ball.

Benny gave it a sniff, unimpressed. After a few more toys, I finally found one—a squeaky bone—that caught his interest. His tail wagged eagerly, and for the first time since Garth's name slipped from my mouth, I managed a real smile.

"We're good," I said, standing up and meeting Sawyer's gaze again.

The hardness from earlier had softened, and his eyes had returned to their usual warmth.

Sawyer reached out, taking my hand in his. His grip was steady, comforting, like he was silently reassuring me that it was okay.

And maybe it was. Maybe this really could work.

"Let's get that bite to eat," he said softly, giving my hand a gentle squeeze, and I squeezed back.

In this moment, everything felt alright. But as much as I wanted to believe it, the unease stayed with me, creeping at the edges of my thoughts.