Page 13 of Cheshire

“How do I know for sure I can trust you? And how did you know he’s my father?” My gaze flicked from one biker to another. The way they looked at me -- like predators sizing up their prey -- made my skin crawl.

Cheshire inched a little closer. “We’ve done our research on the sheriff. He’s into some bad shit. Honestly, it doesn’t surprise me he’d beat the hell out of his daughter. You’re Eliza, right?”

I nodded. It looked like they really had been looking into my father. But that still didn’t explain how they knew about me. Although, it was true he didn’t exactly keep me a secret. He still kept me as hidden as possible. People would ask too many questions if I went out in public, thanks to all the bruises and cuts on my body. Some had left permanent scars.

“What do you know about me?” I asked.

Cheshire moved a little closer, his hands up as if trying to reassure me he wouldn’t harm me. “We have someone in the club who knows how to access certain files and records. Found your birth certificate but not anything showing you’d died. I’m curious why the town doesn’t talk about you, though.”

I licked my lips. “My dad told everyone I’m sick, that I need to stay home. He homeschooled me, or rather once I got old enough to figure most of it out on my own, he enrolled me in a program and then gave me the materials so I could teach myself.”

“So you’ve never gone to school or made friends?” Cheshire asked.

I paused. There was one person I’d seen a few times in passing. One of my father’s deputies. He’d seemed nice. The three times I’d met him had been here at the house, during a period when my father wasn’t leaving bruises in obvious places. It had been a while since I’d seen him. “No, I haven’t.”

I couldn’t really consider someone I met a handful of times to be a friend, right? It wasn’t like we spoke on the phone or exchanged letters. My father never would have allowed such a thing. I scanned the street, knowing it wouldn’t be long before he returned. Standing out here was dangerous. My gaze landed on Maria’s house. After she’d been treated at the hospital, she hadn’t returned. I hoped she was all right.

“Your choice,” Hatter said, his gaze locked on mine.

“Choice? For what?” I asked, having lost track of the conversation. I’d been too focused on Cheshire.

“Stay here and face him, or take a chance with us,” Hatter said. “But I promise you this -- we won’t betray you.”

“Promises don’t mean much. They’re easily broken,” I mumbled, my mind racing with doubt and desperation. Every fiber of my being screamed for me to run, yet something in Hatter’s eyes held me in place. A glimmer of hope? Or just another cruel trick?

“Time’s running out, girl,” Cheshire warned, his tone darkening. He scanned the area much like I had. Was he worried my father would be back? “What’s it going to be?”

Taking a deep breath and stepping out of the shadows, my heart pounded. I had made my choice -- now all that remained was to face the consequences.

“Eliza, you don’t have to be scared. We’re not here to hurt you.” Hatter gave me a slight smile.

“Easy for you to say,” I muttered, hugging myself, trying to make myself smaller. “You aren’t the one who’s been beaten black and blue.”

“True,” he conceded, his eyes flicking over my bruised face. “But we’ve seen our fair share of pain too.”

“It doesn’t mean I can trust you any more than I can trust him.”

His gaze never wavered, but I could see the conflict in his eyes, like he understood my hesitation but couldn’t afford to let it sway him. And if he was torn, what hope did that leave for me?

“Think about it,” he urged, nodding toward the other bikers. “We’ve got your back, Eliza. You just got to take that first step.”

“Take a step?” I scoffed, bile rising in my throat. “And then what? You turn on me? Or maybe you’re secretly working for my father.”

“Wouldn’t blame you for thinking that,” he admitted. “But we aren’t like your father. We live by a code.”

“Right. A code. Of course, you do. And how do I know that code won’t get me killed?”

“Can’t promise that,” he said, his expression grave. “But I can promise we’ll do everything in our power to keep you safe.”

“Everything?” I whispered, my voice barely audible over the pounding of my heart.

“Everything,” he repeated, his eyes locked on mine.

I hesitated, torn between the burning need for safety and the cold grip of fear that refused to let me go. But as I looked into Hatter’s eyes, I saw something that made me believe -- if only for a moment -- that maybe, just maybe, they could be my salvation.

“All right,” I murmured, taking a shaky step toward the motorcycles. “I’ll go with you.”

“Good choice,” Hatter said, nodding in approval.

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