Page 44 of Cheshire

“Finish them!” Knave roared back, his knuckles red and split.

It was down to the last few now, the ones still stupid or brave enough to stand. They swayed on their feet, battered and bloody. But the assholes just wouldn’t stay down!

I locked eyes with the last man standing once Knave and Rabbit took down two more. A behemoth who clearly hadn’t had enough. He charged, all rage and no finesse. I sidestepped, letting his momentum do half the work. Then, with a twist of my body and a surge of everything I had left, I drove my fist into his kidney.

He howled and staggered. A second punch to the throat silenced him, dropping him like a sack of dirt to the ground.

“Stay down,” I snarled, standing over him, chest heaving, my grin fierce and feral.

His eyes rolled back, and he slumped unconscious. Around me, the sounds of conflict died away, replaced by heavy breaths and the distant wail of sirens. Son of a bitch! The bastard, Sheriff Holmes, had apparently called in the cavalry.

“Cheshire…” Mock’s voice was somewhere between impressed and concerned.

“Let them come,” I said, turning to face my brothers, my family. “We have more important things to handle. The sheriff is gone.”

“Son of a bitch,” Knave spat. “Knew he wouldn’t have the guts to face us.”

“Doesn’t matter.” I clenched my fists, feeling the sting of fresh cuts. “He’ll keep coming for her. We need to be ready.”

“Always are,” Mock said, his voice steady despite the blood streaking down his face. “What’s next, VP?”

“War,” I said simply. “We protect Eliza. We crush anyone who tries to take her. End of story. And when all this is over with, we’ll have carved the corruption out of Warren, and this town can begin to heal.”

The sirens grew louder, closing in. We didn’t need to be caught here. Not like this. If the sheriff called those men, then they were likely on his side.

“Let’s move,” I ordered, and my brothers nodded, their faces set in hard lines.

This wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.

Chapter Sixteen

Eliza

Consciousness clawed its way back to me, dragging me through a thick haze of pain. My eyelids were leaden, resisting the urge to flutter open. When they did, darkness greeted me, thick and suffocating. I blinked, trying to orient myself, but the void clung stubbornly to my vision.

Lying there, my body felt like it had been trampled by a herd of elephants. Every breath was a battle, air scraping raw against my throat. The floor beneath me was cold, unforgiving concrete, and the stench of stale cigarette smoke and mildew assaulted my senses. Fear twisted in my gut and panic filled me as I tried to remember.

Bits and pieces shattered through the fog in my brain. The clubhouse. Jo’s face, pale as death, eyes wide with terror. My father’s gravelly voice slicing through the chaos, his silhouette looming over her. Two of his goons flanking him. I couldn’t remember how they’d gotten in.

My head pounded and I pressed a hand to my forehead, closing my eyes as I struggled to piece everything together. More of what happened filtered through my thoughts.

“Stay still,” one of them sneered at Jo, pressing a knife against her side. Seeing her so helpless against them infuriated me, and yet I was powerless against them.

“Eliza, come now,” my father commanded, as if I were nothing more than a dog he could order around. “Or she gets it. Won’t make me lose sleep to gut the little bitch.”

I moved toward him, knowing if I didn’t go, Jo could die. Her gaze followed me, brimming with tears. If my father hurt her, if that man so much as jostled her wrong or ended up stabbing her, then her baby could die.

I clenched my hands into fists, my nails biting into my palms. Jo needed me to be strong right now. I was the only one who could get her away from my father and his men. Even if it meant going back to the hell I’d barely survived before. For her, for the baby, I’d have to face it all.

“Cheshire,” I whispered into the blackness, “where are you?”

I didn’t know how much time passed, but I slipped in and out of consciousness. Pain clawed at me. My eyelids felt like sandpaper as they scraped open, revealing a sliver of dim light that stung. I blinked rapidly, but each throb pulsed a stark reminder -- I was alive.

More memories came to me.

“Eliza, we’ll get you back, darlin’. You’ll be home soon,” Hatter said. I grabbed hold of his promise like a lifeline, needing something to cling to, some spark of hope.

“Keep Jo safe,” I said, “and tell Cheshire…”

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