Chapter 43 - Eleanor

Not every stranger is your enemy.

I woke up gasping and pulling at the rough mattress. Where was I? It was dark and hot and smelled like men's cologne, oil, and dirt. I threw a scratchy blanket off me and crawled to my feet.

Where were my shoes? Where was my dress?

I ran my hands down my body. The fabric of what I was wearing was rough and uncomfortable. I brought the collar to my nose and inhaled. It wasn't soft, but it sure did smell good. Whoever's this was had already worn it. It smelled like a man.

I took a step and winced. The floor was… crunchy. I squinted as I lifted my foot. It was covered in dirt. The entire carpet was filthy. Clothes piled in one corner, brown bottles stacked along a dresser, and books stood in one tall stack in the other corner.

I left the room, each step slow and cautious. I hated the feel of my feet picking up more dirt with each step, but I had to find Cal. I couldn't remember — oh.

It hit me all at once. Our escape. The acid rain. The Daddies melting, our… despite being alone, I still blushed, remembering our hot moment on the vehicle before we took off into the night… to here, wherever here was.

"Daddy?" I called into the hallway, but was met with silence. "Daddy?" I walked down, passing door after door. Nothing was on the yellow, peeling walls. It appeared as if someone had been attempting to keep the hall clean, but not the bedroom I'd just slept in.

I followed the stairs down and found a living room, with Cal sleeping on the couch. I looked around. Everything was dirty, faded, and worn, but also, it appeared as if someone had been attempted to rectify it. It had a faint smell of lemon, but also an underlying hint of oil and dirt, just as it had upstairs. This floor was cleaner; my feet weren't tracking more dirt around.

I sighed, going to Callahan and crouching. I ran my hand through his hair. He was beautiful when sleeping. His eyes didn't even twitch. He must be exhausted. I left him, heading into the room to the right, where the aroma of coffee was wafting from. Was someone here? They must be, otherwise, how did we get in? There's no way Callahan would have let me sleep alone if he didn't trust this place.

I stepped inside and froze. I'd been preparing for… I don't know what I'd been prepared for. But black boots, tight pants, a cut off shirt revealing large, toned, tattooed muscles all the way down his arms that led to black leather motorcycle gloves, and bright yellow hair reaching the nape of the person's neck was not it. They seemed to sense me and turned. My mind went blank.

Wow.

This man was everything Cal was not. Dark brows, eyes a bright hazel-brown, a straight nose and a dimple in his chin. Tattoos covered his arms and neck and I assumed, based on how some of them trailed under the torn shirt, they covered his chest as well.

This man couldn't be more opposite of what I'd been attracted to in the past, but… wow.

The only similarities to Cal were that he was tall and just as built. The man gave me a half smile, revealing a dimple in his cheek too. I almost melted.

"Daddy?" He raised an eyebrow and butterflies went haywire in my belly.

"Uh, Callahan. He's… who are you?" I pressed my lips together and tried to steady my raging heartbeat. What was going on? Why was I so attracted to a stranger?

"They call me Riot. You thirsty?" He kicked off the bottom cabinets and turned, opening a top one and pulling out a chipped coffee mug. I watched his tattooed muscles as he went to the percolator, poured me a steaming hot cup, and walked it over to me. "Careful, it's hot."

I looked up slowly, and as our eyes met, my heart exploded. His eyes were even more dazzling up close. They were green with specks of gold and brown. I wasn't sure if it was some kind of makeup or just that his face was dirty, but his eyes were just lightly rimmed with black, making him look even more dangerous, more handsome and more… everything.

"What do I have to do to get you to call me that?"

"Call you what?" I said, my voice coming out breathless. My mind was blank. All I knew was Riot, his bright eyes and long yellow hair. Riot leaned down, bringing his face right next to mine. I inhaled deeply and his scent filled my lungs. It was the same mix of cologne and oil that was on my shirt. I was wearing his clothes . My heart hammered loudly in my ears as his warmth breath fell onto my ear.

"Daddy."

Oh.

Oh no.

"I-- I like your tattoos," I blurted.

He stepped back and I could breathe again. He sat my cup on the wooden table. He ran his hand along his arm and grinned. He had a good smile for someone living above. I hadn't realized people could live above, let alone look this handsome.

"Yeah?" Riot chuckled. "You got tattoos where you're from?"

"What did Callahan say about me?" I wondered, how much did he know about us? Did Callahan tell him about the Young Lady program? About the bunker at all?

Riot rolled his eyes, and leaned back against the kitchen counter. "You're a bunker baby. Or bandit, I guess now. That has kind of a cute ring to it, Bunker Bandit. Maybe it'll catch on."

I stepped to the table, running my hand along it. Everything in the Young Lady floors were pristine, made of metal, and cold. This table was everything but that. I'd stepped into another world entirely.

"It was your room I slept in last night, wasn't it?" I looked back at him. Something in his expression changed, but I couldn't pinpoint what it was. His eyes told more than his lips did.

"It was. Is my bed okay for you?"

"It was fine. Thank you. Where did you sleep?" If Callahan had taken the couch, did Riot take another bedroom?

"I didn't. I kept watch all night, just in case."

"In case what?"

He looked at me as if I had something on my face.

"The people from the bunker, Eleanor, do you realize how big of a deal what you two just did is?"

I swallowed. The butterflies from him saying my name were replaced with heavy rocks.

"I do," I lied. I knew that they wouldn't take us running off too lightly, but what were we supposed to do? They'd tried to kill us! Once in that underground bunker and again last night. If we didn't escape we wouldn't be alive. He sighed, not believing me. Which was fair, as I didn't believe myself either. We were in big trouble.

"Well, no one came last night, so there's that. I assume the next few days will be us keeping watch. Don't worry, Young Lady," he paused to smirk, and my belly fluttered again. "We won't let the big bad Daddy killers get you two."

There was energy between us for a moment, where I stared at him and he stared right back.

"How do you know Callahan?" I blurted the first thing that popped into my head. Riot raised his eyebrows as if considering my question. He reached for his coffee and brought it to his lips, taking a long sip.

"Milton led me to him."

I gasped. "You were friends with Milton?"

"I knew Milton. I wasn't friends with him." Riot's tone shifted.

I flinched away, confused, until I remembered what Callahan had told me last night. Milton had been planning to rape me, along with my original Daddy and the others. I shook my head, more at myself than at Riot. I was so naive. This whole time, I'd thought the people around me were good and Callahan was the bad one. How quickly things changed.

Riot took a step and froze mid second-step. He looked behind me so I turned.

"Mornin' Riot, Eleanor." Callahan's voice boomed behind us. I jumped, startled. I hadn't even heard him get up. He went to the table and grabbed the cup of coffee Riot had poured for me. He looked at me and nodded. "How'd you sleep?"

"Good. Where is my dress?"

Riot chuckled as his eyes followed Callahan's movements throughout the kitchen. He was amused at Callahan's grumpy mood.

"That white thing you were wearing when you got here?" Riot asked. "It's probably ruined now, between the chemicals in the rain and the dirt. I put it outside last night. It's still wet."

"Is that why you put me in this?" I raised the shirt slightly and both men's eyes darted to my thighs. I blushed and tugged it back down.

"He didn't put you in anything. I did." Callahan clarified. Riot and I exchanged looks of discomfort but said nothing. Callahan brushed past me then with a mutter of relieving himself.

The moment Callahan was out of earshot, Riot stepped over to me. He brushed my hair back behind my ear and I shivered at the unfamiliar touch.

"Your Daddy is jealous," he chuckled.

"Of who?" I felt silly again, silly and naive and it was in that moment I realized there was no going back to the life I'd once had. Riot leaned down and brushed his lips against my cheek.

"Of me."