Page 102 of Stuck with my Mechanic Daddies

Inside the town hall, the air was thick with tension.

Folks were packed into the rows of old wooden chairs, murmuring to each other, their faces a mix of concern and defiance. The usual warmth of Medford—the easygoing, small-town camaraderie—was gone.

Replaced by something colder. Something angrier.

Ethan, Owen, and I stood near the front, facing them.

I wasn’t much for speeches. That was Ethan’s thing, being the responsible, level-headed one. And Owen could get a whole room to listen without saying much at all.

Me? I cracked jokes, I flirted, I made sure people had a good time.

But this wasn’t a good time.

This was our town, our people, and it was slipping through our fingers.

Ethan spoke first.

He didn’t clear his throat. Didn’t hesitate. Just raised his chin, met everyone’s eyes, and started talking like he was already carrying the weight of the town on his shoulders.

“You all know what's happening,” he said, steady. “Hank Lawson has been buying up land, pushing people out, and now he's using threats to get what he wants.

“My shop was vandalized. Aurora’s bookstore was damn near burned down. And I know for a fact some of you have gottenoffers you didn’t ask for. Ones that came with an unspoken warning if you didn’t take them.”

A murmur rippled through the crowd. I saw some guilty glances, people shifting in their seats.

Lawson had already gotten to some of them.

Ethan let the silence settle before he continued.

“This isn’t just business,” he said. “It’s a takeover. Lawson isn’t looking to help Medford; he's looking to gut it. He wants our land, our businesses, and when he's done, there won’t be a town left worth living in.”

Someone called out, “What the hell do we do about it?”

Ethan nodded, like he’d been expecting the question.

“We stand together,” he said simply. “We make it clear that Medford isn’t for sale. We refuse to back down. If we do that, we take away his leverage. Lawson thinks he can pick us off one by one. So let’s show him what happens when we don’t let him.”

Applause broke out. A few people even stood up.

Then Owen stepped forward, and the room quieted again.

“I know some of you are scared,” he said, voice even. “Maybe you think it’s easier to take Lawson’s deal. Just sell and move on. But let me ask you something. How many of you have family buried here?”

The room went still.

“How many of you have kids in the same schools you went to?” His gaze swept across the room. “How many of you have memories in this town you don’t want bulldozed over?”

A few nods. A few murmurs.

“Lawson doesn’t care about Medford,” Owen continued. “But we do. We built this place. Our parents built this place. So if you think selling him your land is just a business decision, you're wrong. It’s handing over your family’s history. And once it’s gone, it’s gone for good.”

More murmurs now. People sitting up straighter, whispering to their neighbors. Owen didn’t give them time to stew in it.

“We hold the line,” he said. “That's how we stop him.”

Then it was my turn.

I wasn’t like Ethan with his plans, or Owen with his quiet authority. But I knew how to read a room. And right now, I could see the cracks, the doubt, the fear.

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