Cheshire (Underland MC 2)

Cheshire (Underland MC 2)
Harley Wylde
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Copyright ©2024 Harley Wylde

Eliza

The room swam in a haze of fear and broken glass. Sheriff Holmes’ face twisted into an ugly snarl, eyes burning with rage. He clenched his fists, knuckles turning white. This wasn’t anything new for my father. Just another day in my miserable life.

“Stand up,” he barked, voice like ice. I forced myself to my feet, trembling like a leaf, tears streaming down my face.

“Please don’t,” I whispered, but my words fell on deaf ears.

“Shut up!” His fist collided with my cheekbone, the force sending me sprawling back to the floor. The air rushed from my lungs as if I’d been sucker punched. Pain exploded through my skull.

This is it. This is how I die.

“Get up,” he spat again, reveling in the torment he inflicted. The darkness in his eyes chilled me to the core. I scrambled to my feet, legs shaking, praying for some kind of reprieve.

“Look at you,” he sneered, grabbing a fistful of my hair and yanking me closer. “Pathetic.”

“Please, stop,” I whimpered, too weak to resist his iron grip. In that moment, I knew I was nothing to him -- just another thing to control and bend to his will. He’d never think of me as a daughter, as family. I wasn’t sure a monster like him was capable of such a thing.

“Did you think I’d let you get away with it? That I wouldn’t find out?” He punctuated his words with a vicious blow to my stomach, causing bile to rise in my throat.

Can’t breathe. Can’t fight back. Just need to survive. I curled up to protect my already battered body.

“Learn your place,” he hissed as he landed one final punch, then turned to leave, his heavy footsteps echoing in my ears.

I didn’t know what I’d done to make him so angry this time. It could have been anything. Maybe I’d put something in the wrong place. I didn’t think I’d ruined any of his clothes when I’d done the laundry. No matter how hard I thought about it, I had no idea what I’d done.

Blood dripped down my face, each droplet a painful reminder of the violent flurry that had just unfolded. I stared at the cracked mirror on the wall, catching glimpses of my battered reflection between the jagged lines. The pain was unbearable, but what hurt more was the feeling of utter helplessness.

“Is this it?” I whispered to myself, choking back tears. “Is this all my life will ever be?”

My eyes scanned the room, taking in the shattered glass and twisted remnants of what had once been my sanctuary. How could I ever feel safe again, knowing that he’d violated every inch of this space?

I pressed my hand against my bruised ribs, wincing at the sharp stab of pain. For a moment, I allowed myself to imagine a world where the torture ceased, where I could finally be free from his sadistic grip.

“Maybe death would be better,” I admitted, my voice barely audible. “At least then, I wouldn’t have to live in fear.”

The thought sent shivers down my spine, but also brought an odd sense of comfort. In death, there would be peace. No more beatings, no more humiliation, no more heart-pounding terror that gripped me every time he approached. Even if there was nothing but a sea of darkness on the other side, it would be preferable to this.

“Eliza,” my father’s voice cut through my thoughts, and I realized he was standing in my doorway again. “Don’t think I’m done with you. If you ever try to defy me again, I won’t hesitate to end your miserable existence.”

Fear slithered its way into my throat, choking me as I struggled to find my voice. “Yes, sir,” I managed to whisper, quivering under the weight of his gaze. I couldn’t ask how I’d defied him. Doing so would only spark his anger again.

“Remember that.” With one last chilling glare, he slammed the door behind him, leaving me to wallow in my own despair.

Trembling, I realized that even the thought of death couldn’t save me. The fear of my father, of Sheriff Holmes, held me captive in a prison more terrifying than any physical cage.

“Death or life,” I whispered into the void. “Either way, I’m trapped.”

My heart pounded, and my hands shook. I didn’t even remember my mother anymore. She’d died so long ago. I thought we were happier then, but I didn’t know for sure. Had my father always been a monster?

“No escape.” If I tried… I dragged myself up, wincing. Bruised, battered, weak. That’s what I saw when I looked in the mirror. At times like this, I hated myself. If I were strong, would I be able to stand up to him? Or if I were more cunning, could I escape?

“Damn him,” I muttered, the words barely escaping my swollen lips.

The sound of motorcycles roared in the distance. I knew they’d belong to the local motorcycle club. I’d seen them at a distance many times.

A light tap on my window drew me over to it. “Who’s there?”

I kept my voice low, not wanting to draw my father’s attention again. “It’s Maria from next door.”

“Maria,” I breathed, relief washing over me for a brief moment. We weren’t exactly close, but she’d noticed my wounds before and done her best to help. Although she too feared my father.

“Open the window,” she urged.

“Can’t be seen together,” I reminded her, my gaze darting around the room in panic. “He’ll hurt us both. If he thinks you’re helping me…”

“Eliza, listen,” she said urgently. “I’ve found help. The Underland MC. I think if you can get to them, they’ll protect you.”

“Protect me?” I scoffed, disbelief coloring my tone. “From Sheriff Holmes? No one can do that. It would be different if my father were anyone else.”

“They can,” Maria insisted. “Those men aren’t scared of anyone. I don’t have proof, but I think they’re responsible for something big that went down a few weeks ago.”

“Help from bikers?” I questioned, my mind racing. “How can I trust them?”

“They look big and scary, but they do a lot of good around town. And from what I’ve heard, they’re all ex-military,” she said. “They’re your only shot, Eliza.”

“All right, but how?” I asked.

“Tonight. If you can get away, I can take you to them. I was behind one of them at the grocery store earlier. Heard him on the phone talking about meeting everyone at a diner in town.”

“I’ll try.” I didn’t want to think of the consequences if my father caught me. He might actually kill me.