Page 51 of Cheshire

“Come on,” I said, tugging her along. The others moved ahead, shapes melting into the shadows.

“Where to?” she whispered.

“Anywhere but here,” I replied.

“Okay.” The simple word carried the weight of trust. She didn’t need a location as long as she was with me.

Our story wasn’t over, just paused on the precipice of a new chapter, ink about to spill across a fresh page. We’d survived the fight with her father, but we still had to take down the mayor and Robert Lewis before the entire fiasco would be over and done. But we’d taken a huge step tonight.

I helped Eliza onto my bike, and with Hatter taking the lead, we made our way back home.

Chapter Eighteen

Eliza

I took a deep breath, the kind you take when the world’s weight finally lifts from your shoulders. Relief crashed over me like a tidal wave, and tears sprang to my eyes. I didn’t bother trying to hold them back. Sheriff Holmes, my father, that monster in a badge, was nothing but ash and memories now. His empire lay in ruins at my feet.

My hands shook, not with fear this time, but with a freedom so fierce it burned through my veins. I laughed, the sound strange and foreign to my own ears. Free.

The clubhouse door swung open, and I stepped into chaos. It looked like Jo was prepping the place for a party. I noticed Park was with her.

He rushed over, coming to a stop a few feet away when Cheshire came in behind me, placing a hand on my shoulder.

“Eliza, I’m glad you’re okay.” Park cleared his throat. “Sorry about your dad. All things considered, he was still your flesh and blood, and the only family you had left.”

I shook my head. “I’m not. I don’t think anyone will miss him, except the men who were just as corrupt as him.”

“Just the same… if you ever need someone to talk to…”

Cheshire growled and put himself between us. “She won’t. Don’t cross the line, Park!”

He lifted his hands and backed up. “Just being a friend. I figured she could use one. I think it’s clear she’s yours.”

I placed my hand on Cheshire’s back. “I’m fine. He didn’t mean anything by it. I’m going to get cleaned up.”

“Same.” Cheshire turned and leaned in closer, then lowered his voice so only I’d hear him. “Want to shower together?”

“Aren’t you hurting? You look like one big bruise, not to mention the cut on your arm.”

He cupped my cheek. “No amount of pain would ever stop me from enjoying your touch.”

“Then, yes. I’d like that.” He took my hand and led me through the room and down the hall. We stopped at my room long enough for me to grab a change of clothes.

“You’ll need to move all your stuff later.” He kissed my cheek. “My room is now our room. Unless you’d prefer to have a separate one.”

I shook my head. “No. I like the idea of sharing one.”

When we got to Cheshire’s room -- no, our room -- he shut and locked the door. I set my clean clothes on the bed and went into the bathroom to start the shower. Cheshire joined me a moment later, already stripped out of his clothes. I winced when I saw all the cuts and bruises. I hadn’t realized he had a cut other than the one on his arm.

“Doesn’t it hurt?” I asked.

“Pain is a relative thing,” he said. “And right now, I’m not letting it take me down. But later… yeah, it’s going to hurt like a bitch and I’ll be in agony.”

I undressed and took his hand, tugging him into the shower. Using gentle strokes, I washed the grime from his skin, being extra careful around the open wounds. Even his lip had been split.

His touch was light as he traced the bruises on my body. “Aren’t you in pain?”

“I’ll be fine. I’ve had much worse,” I said.

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