Page 50 of Cheshire

“Is that all you’ve got?” His breath came out in a wheeze.

“More than enough for you,” I shot back.

I watched him sway, read the defeat in his posture. Now. This was it. One last move.

With everything I had left, I punched, my fist connecting with his nose in a sickening crack. The sheriff’s head snapped back, a spray of spit and blood painting the walls and floor.

Holmes hit the ground hard, a sack of meat and bone. He didn’t get up. Not this time. His chest rose and fell -- too slow, too shallow -- but he was out. Finally.

I stood over him, breath ragged, heart slamming against ribs. It was done. For Eliza. For all those he’d harmed. The bastard wouldn’t be terrorizing anyone else.

“Cheshire wins!” I panted, barely able to remain standing, but I’d managed to take the asshole down. Now I needed to make sure he stayed down.

Taking out my gun, I put two rounds in his chest and one between his eyes. There was no way he was coming back from that.

The silence that followed was heavy. It bore down on me. I turned away from the wreck of a man at my feet, and knew it was time to get Eliza.

Blood -- mine or his, I couldn’t tell -- dripped from my knuckles. The room spun in a dizzying haze of adrenaline and pain.

“Cheshire…” Eliza? I turned to her, my legs shaky as a newborn foal. She rushed toward me, her eyes wide pools of fear and relief.

“Eliza,” I managed, my voice barely above a grunt as I tried to catch my breath.

She reached out, her hands trembling as they touched my sweat-soaked skin. Grim satisfaction curled in my gut. We were alive. We’d won.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her gaze scanning the cuts and bruises that painted my face and every inch of exposed skin.

“Anything for you,” I said, meaning every damn word.

I yanked Eliza close, my arms a cage around her slight frame. Her body melded into mine, a perfect fit against all the broken pieces.

“Safe,” I murmured into her hair, a promise scrawled in sweat and blood. “You’re safe now.”

“Charlie…”

“Shh, I’ve got you.” I felt her tears soak my shirt. I should have protected her better. Made sure her father could never touch her. I may have failed before, but this time I’d made certain he’d never hurt anyone ever again.

The world shrank down to the space we occupied, her and me, wrapped tight in the aftermath. Dust motes danced in the air, twirling in the dim light filtering through shattered windows.

“Cheshire.” She clung to me, repeating my name as if it were some sort of prayer.

“Eliza, it’s over.” Her fingers clutched at my cut. “Love you more than anything. I would go to war for you anytime, anyplace.”

“Love you too, Charlie. So much.” Her grip tightened, as if she worried I’d disappear if she let go.

We swayed together, a silent dance in the ruins. Our breaths mingled, and the relentless beat of my heart slowed, matching hers. I finally had her back in my arms, right where she belonged. And I’d be damned if I’d let anyone take her from me again.

I peeled myself away from Eliza, the cold air biting at the sweat on my brow.

Hatter’s boots crunched against debris. “Cheshire,” he said, his voice low. “We need to move. I hear sirens heading this way. We’ve already freed the other women and girls.”

“Right.” I took Eliza’s hand and led her through the wreckage and bodies.

March was already by the door. Rabbit and Carpenter flanked him, their faces set in grim lines. They all bore the marks of the night, bruises blooming like dark flowers against their skin.

“Let’s clear out,” March said, his words curt and clipped.

The weight of what had happened pressed down on us. Blood pooled on the floor, sticky underfoot. I wasn’t sure how we were going to keep this from coming back to bite us on the ass.

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