Page 42 of Cheshire

“Talk to me,” I said as I accepted the call, then pressed the speaker button.

“Cheshire,” the voice sounded distorted, like it had been scrambled electronically. “Sheriff knows you’ve got Eliza. He’s coming for her.”

The line went dead. I stared at the phone, my jaw tightening until it ached. Sheriff Holmes, that twisted son of a bitch, breathing down our necks again. And Eliza -- Goddamn it, she wasn’t going back to that hellhole.

“Cheshire, what’s wrong?” Knave’s voice pulled me back, his eyes narrowing at the look on my face. I hadn’t even heard him come out here.

“Sheriff’s on the move,” I said, my voice low and steady, even though I felt anything but. “He wants Eliza.”

Knave’s fists clenched, veins popping on his tattooed arms. “Not happening.”

“Damn straight.” I slid my phone into my pocket and turned on my heel, heading for where my bike stood, gleaming under the flickering lights. “We hit him first. That’s the only way to keep her safe.”

“Are we ready?” Mock asked, skepticism in his tone as he joined us.

“Doesn’t matter. We’ve got no choice.” Rabbit and Carpenter came into the garage as well, probably sensing something was about to happen. “Rabbit, care to join us?”

“I’m there if you need me,” he said, the fire in his eyes telling me he was all in. For once, his anxiety seemed almost nonexistent.

We had to keep Eliza safe, had to take down Sheriff Holmes before he could lay another finger on her, or anyone else. The club was my family, but Eliza… she was something more, something worth fighting for. We weren’t just defending her. We were declaring war. It had been a fight that started when Jo showed up, and I knew it wouldn’t end until we’d taken them all down. But the shit with Jo had been more of a skirmish. Well, several of them until we’d finally ended Eddie Lewis. This was different. Even though Eddie had been connected to some pretty powerful people, it was nothing compared to taking on the sheriff and mayor’s office.

I knew one thing for certain: this was it. No turning back. We were heading straight into the storm, and hell itself couldn’t stop us now. I’d do whatever it took to make that man pay for all his sins.

I stopped not too far from the clubhouse when I saw a familiar vehicle outside the diner. I pulled over and went inside, finding Park in one of the booths. The moment he saw me, the fury coming off me in waves, he understood what was happening.

“Where’s he holed up?” Fuck pleasantries. I didn’t have time for it.

“Warehouse on the edge of town,” Park said, tapping his phone screen, sending the location to mine. “Got a nasty nest of vipers with him. I’d debated telling you.”

“Well, I got an anonymous call telling me the sheriff is after Eliza. It’s not like I’m going to sit back and let it happen.”

Park’s jaw tightened and he gave a sharp nod. “Right. If she’s in trouble, then you have to go.”

I still didn’t like the way he talked about her, but for now he was on our side, and I needed all the allies I could get. I went back out to my bike and led my brothers to the warehouse’s location. It loomed ahead, ugly and rusting, and surrounded by goons who looked like trouble had birthed them. Too many.

“Looks like a full house,” I muttered, eyeing the rough crew through narrowed lids.

“Party crashers, that’s us,” Mock said with a twisted smile that didn’t reach his eyes. He knew as well as I did this could get bloody.

“Stay sharp,” I warned, cutting the engine, the silence sudden and heavy. We were four against a horde, but we had steel wills and iron fists. We didn’t have a choice if we wanted to survive.

“Always am,” Rabbit said, though his hand trembled as he checked to see what weapons he had on him. With Rabbit, there was always a chance he’d hidden things in his clothes or boots without realizing it. I’d watched him on several occasions, and it was like his hands and brain weren’t always connected. He’d often pull something from his pocket and stare at it like he had no clue how it had gotten there.

“Let’s make some noise,” Knave said, and it wasn’t excitement in his voice but the calm before a storm.

Leaving wasn’t an option now. The men spotted us and started to move. “Take them down!” I yelled, as I charged.

Knave was a shadow on my right, his fists hammers against pounding flesh and bone. Mock’s wild laughter cut through the din, a manic soundtrack to the chaos he sowed with every swing. Rabbit, quick and wiry, ducked and dodged like he’d been born in a brawl.

Thankfully, none of the sheriff’s men had pulled a weapon yet. Part of me wondered why and found it odd, but if it meant we had a chance at a fair fight, I’d take it.

“Cheshire!” Knave’s voice, a warning. I twisted just in time, avoiding an uppercut to my jaw.

We moved as one, but these bastards were tough -- tougher than we’d anticipated. They absorbed our hits, retaliated with brutal precision. It wasn’t just their strength. There was technique behind those punches. These weren’t common thugs.

“Trained…” I grunted, blocking a kick aimed for my head. “These guys… are trained.”

“Didn’t sign up for easy,” Mock shouted back, swinging wide and taking out two goons with a single blow.

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