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Chapter 53 - Eleanor

Chemical rain = bad.

" W hat are you doing here? How'd you find me?" Riot opened the door to the truck and yanked me in, closing it fast.

"Th-the ruh-ruh-rain is ssss-so cold." My teeth chattered. It hadn't been the acid rain from before. This storm was like ice coming down.

"Yeah, it's not rain. Well, it is, but it's one of the chemical rains. How are you not frostbitten?" He lifted my arms and brushed my hair away from my neck, looking for signs of damage.

I shook my head. "I-I-I wasn't hurt by the acid rain either."

"Jesus, those pills they gave you must have had something crazy in them. Come here." He pulled me into his embrace and soon I stopped shaking. I absorbed his warmth, my muscles relaxing as I took comfort in his strong arms and the smell of cigarettes and whiskey on his breath.

"Are you okay?" He chuckled.

Finally warm, I pulled away. "Yes. Thank you."

"Why did you come out here?" He shook his head. I looked down at his shirt. It was completely damp now from being pressed against me.

"I thought I heard something, and I went to your room, but you weren't there, so I went to look for you and it started to rain."

"How did you find me?"

I cocked my head. "The music."

He furrowed his brow, and he picked up the radio, turning the volume down a bit.

"I hadn't realized it was that loud."

I pointed to the almost empty bottle of whiskey in the cupholder. "Loud music, nearly finished bottle, looks like you were having a party."

"Something like that," he muttered.

"What were you celebrating?"

"I wasn't celebrating so much as mourning."

I stiffened. "Did you hear something from Cal and the others? Are they hurt?"

"No. Just me."

I didn't understand what he was saying. He was more intoxicated than I initially thought. He reached for the bottle and finished it in three large gulps. Rolling the window down, he tossed it into the darkness. In a flash he pulled a fresh one from under the seat. He popped the cork and offered it to me.

I shook my head. "No thanks. You've drunk enough for both of us."

"It'll warm you up. With you being so in love with Callahan, we probably shouldn't be touching too much," he snickered, and tugged on his shirt. "You got me all wet."

Guilt twisted my insides. I took the bottle and brought it to my lips, sipping. It burned my throat and I wanted to vomit, but I pushed it down. Riot, empty handed, took the opportunity to pull his wet shirt over his head and toss it on the floor.

Without realizing it, my eyes grazed over his muscles. I counted each line in his abdomen. Eight. A thin line of hair traveled down the line in the middle, and tattoos covered everything in random bursts.

"You should probably blink at some point."

Embarrassment flooded me as Riot sat back and closed his eyes.

"I'm sorry, I was just admiring your tattoos. Did Boogie do them all?"

He chuckled, seeing through my lame excuse. "Some, not all. You want a tour?"

I did. I very much did.

I sat up straight and put my hands in my lap. He turned his head and popped one eye open. Seeing I was serious, he sighed and sat up. As if it annoyed him, he ran me through the tattoos on his chest, explaining why he got them, who did them, and how much they hurt. When he finished his front, he turned and showed me his back, and then turned back.

He raised one eyebrow and smirked. "That's the end of the safe tour."

"Safe?" My heart beated hard in my chest. I knew what he meant. I'd seen glimpses of the rest, but never full looks. I wasn't supposed to see any of it, but… I wanted to.

"Oh, don't tease. You're not as innocent as you were made to appear."

My stomach fluttered.

"I don't know what you're talking about. You're right. I don't want to see the tattoos under your belt."

"Liar."

"Excuse me?" I gasped.

"You're lying. I see how you look at me when you think I'm not paying attention. You want me just as much as I want you."

"You want me?" The butterflies in my belly seemed frantic to escape as I waited for him to answer. He was quiet for a long moment.

"Yes." The word came out almost bitterly, as if he hated to admit it.

"I thought you liked Callahan." I twisted my hands together in my lap.

"My feelings for him are different than what I feel for you."

"I don't understand." My heart sank.

"I want to fuck him."

"Oh."

"I want to love you."

My breath got caught in my throat. What did I say to that? What was the difference between the two? Did that mean I wasn't attractive to him? No one said anything for a long time. Instead, we listened to Atlas Adam DJ, while we passed the bottle back and forth. Soon, I was tipsy too.

The energy in the truck began to relax, and we began to laugh and sing aloud to the music. We stopped tiptoeing around each other and it felt like it had been before. He touched my knee and I giggled.

"That tickles!" I jerked my leg away. His beautiful eyes lit up devilishly.

"You're ticklish?" In a flash, he had me on my back and was on top of me. He pushed my legs apart and dug his fingers into my sides.

I squealed as he tickled me. I fought him through the giggles. I loved playful Riot. He wasn't meant to be broody.

"Stop! You monster!" I managed to get out. My shirt rode up and was touching the bottom of my breasts. My heart pounded in my ears as I watched Riot realize it and his tickling slowed, but his hands didn't leave my body. They slid down the rest of me along with his eyes. His gaze went back up, reaching mine.

His thoughts were clear on his face.

They matched mine.

"You're not wearing your gloves."

He brought his hand to his face, rubbing his jaw. "No, I'm not."

I eyed them, fascinated by what he'd been hiding for weeks.

"You have a tattoo?" I pointed to his hand. "That's what you've been hiding?"

He turned his hand to look at it and then sat back, the moment between us gone. I sat up, pushing my shirt down over my nakedness. He covered his hand from my vision, but chuckled dryly.

"They call that the hand necklace."

"Hand necklace?" I cocked my head.

"Boogie hasn't explained it yet?"

I shook my head. I hadn't actually gotten the chance to use a tattoo machine yet. He mostly had me drawing things and cleaning up his shop. Riot pulled his hand back out and wrapped it around his neck. He looked at me, expectantly.

"You choke people with it?"

"Not people, lovers. Although, I will say since getting it, my sex life has become nearly nonexistent. I haven't had the chance to use it." He rolled his eyes and threw his head back against the seat. I stared at his hand, trying to figure out what the design was. It was pretty faded, but it looked like letters.

"Why, does it say something bad?" The font was kind of messy. I reached for his hand, now extremely curious. What could be so offensive that he had to hide it from me? That would cause someone in the throes of passion to be turned off, especially with a man as charming and handsome as Riot?

He yanked his hand away and I fought with him for a bit before I leaped across the seat and climbed onto his lap. I sat down and yanked his hand up to my face. He scowled at me as I turned his hand and read the letters. My heart stopped completely, and my mind went blank for a moment.

There was no way…

I read it again, and then looked at Riot, who was rolling his eyes.

"See?"

I did see. I understood now what would cause someone to not want to have sex with him. After all, why would you want to be choked by a man who had the name Eleanor tattooed on him?

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