Pure Innocence (14 page)

“
The club?”

“
Mmm…Pure?” Adam pulled his
head out of the cupboard triumphantly with a chopping
board.

Pure?
Oliver filed that away to ask Damon about, and smiled. He
didn’t want to disagree with his new friend, but he was happy Damon
was in charge. He didn’t need to fool anyone.

Oliver perched on a stool near the counter
while Adam chattered. He was able to use his elbows for balance
much more now. A few days ago, he wouldn’t have been able to get on
the stool.

“
Can you mash, with a
fork?” Adam asked him.

Oliver paused. He didn’t honestly know. “I
can try.”

Adam opened a container he had brought with
avocados in. “I’ll peel them and take out the stone, but I need
them mashed with a little lemon juice.” Adam peered into Damon’s
cupboards as he opened them. He reached for the seasonings. “Do you
have sea-salt?”

Oliver flushed a little, he didn’t know.
He’d never even looked in any of the cupboards, he’d just eaten
whatever Damon gave him.

Adam carried on, ignoring him. “The secret’s
in the yogurt. Some people mix in tomatoes, but this is
better.”

Oliver felt like he was on a cooking show.
He’d managed to mash the soft avocados. Adam had actually stopped
him from doing it too much. “Better chunky for dipping,” he’d said.
He’d arranged veggies around the dipping bowl and cut up small
triangles of bread. He’d added a plate of bite size pieces of
chicken, then made two huge subs with what seemed like the whole
contents of the fridge. Adam looked up, and grinned. “Got to keep
’em fed. Way to a man’s heart and all that.”

The guys appeared in the kitchen just as
everything was ready. Oliver hummed contentedly. No one had made
any comment when Damon had loaded Oliver’s plate. He even spooned a
huge helping of dip on there—all the things he could manage with
his fingers with no need for forks.

Oliver listened with interest to Joe and
Damon. Oliver didn’t realize Joe had been a cop, and now worked for
a security firm—apparently with the guy who had been here the other
day, Callum. Joe and Callum were offering Damon some work. It
involved Damon watching some guy that seemed to be threatening a
client’s ex-wife. The police couldn’t do anything as there was no
evidence the guy had been anywhere near her, but someone was
leaving the lady nasty notes, and Joe was worried it was
escalating.

Damon shook his head and glanced at Oliver.
“I don’t want to take on any cases at the moment.”

Oliver understood. It was because of him.
“Sir?” Everyone at the table looked surprised when Oliver spoke,
but he’d deliberately said, “Sir,” not “Damon.” He wasn’t ashamed
of them, and he knew Damon liked it when he called him that.

Damon smiled at Oliver, and his eyes opened
wider, questioningly.

“
I can be left. This sounds
important.” Oliver glanced at Adam. “Maybe Adam could keep me
company some of the time?”

Adam beamed. “You will have to meet Lee. He
will kill me if I come here without him.”

Oliver grinned, and Joe slapped Damon on the
back. “So, it’s settled then?”

“
Coffee anyone?” Adam held
the pot up, and Oliver was suddenly incredibly, fiercely jealous.
He wanted to be the one who made coffee in Damon’s apartment, not
Adam, and he would. He was determined. Next time Alec came he would
be shocked at how much better Oliver was.

When the coffee had brewed they all trooped
into the lounge. Joe threw a cushion on the floor, and Adam curled
up on it, leaning sideways into Joe’s legs. Joe played with Adam’s
hair casually while he talked to Damon.

Oliver blinked. Damon had lifted his arm
casually so Oliver could sit next to him, but… He glanced at Adam,
and Adam deliberately lowered his gaze to the floor next to Damon,
then looked straight up at Oliver.

Oliver’s heart beat excitedly. Adam was
hinting at what Oliver should do. But more importantly Adam didn’t
doubt that he could do it.

Oliver didn’t look at Damon, just hugged his
new found courage tight and managed to get the edge of the light
cushion clasped between his thumb and forefinger, dropping it on
the floor. Heart thudding so loud he was convinced everyone could
hear it, he knelt down on the cushion. Joe hadn’t stopped
talking—of course Joe wouldn’t think there was anything wrong. He
wouldn’t know Oliver had just made such a ginormous decision.

Oliver counted to three without moving, and
then Damon’s large comforting hand settled on the back of his neck
and drew him so he was leaning into Damon’s legs. He shuffled
slightly so his hand wasn’t trapped, and glanced shyly at Adam.

Adam was beaming, and Oliver smiled back
triumphantly, then yawned. Adam giggled.

Damon and Joe droned on about the case, and
Oliver felt increasingly more relaxed. He could do this. There was
nothing Adam had done that Oliver hadn’t copied. He’d even helped
with lunch. He hadn’t panicked or worried once. Surely Damon must
be pleased with him.

“
Oliver.” Oliver blinked,
pulled from his thoughts, and Damon helped him up. Joe and Adam
were leaving, and Adam went into the kitchen to get their
things.

Joe and Damon stood in the hall talking
quietly, while Oliver watched Adam put the things back in the
fridge. He saw Adam pause as Joe laughed. Adam seemed to like the
sound because he smiled, but as he did he put his fingers to his
throat and rubbed it a little.

Oliver wondered if Adam was thirsty. “Do you
need a drink of water before you go?”

Adam smiled and dropped his hand. “Sorry,
habit. I hate it when I haven’t got it on.”

Oliver let the comment go. Adam must have
meant his collar. He’d seen collared subs at Ecstasy, but he wanted
to ask Damon about this, not Adam.

Oliver stood in the lounge looking at
Damon’s huge display of books when Damon came back in after Joe and
Adam had left. He smiled and nodded to the shelves. “Oliver
Twist?”

Damon nodded. “I loved Dickens when I was a
boy. Have you read it?”

Oliver shook his head. “No, I just thought
it was funny because it was my name.”

“
Harold and Annie actually
bought me that edition.” Oliver smiled, it would be important to
Damon then.

“
You okay?” Damon’s arms
surrounded him and Oliver turned around so he was facing
Damon.

“
Is Adam Joe’s
sub?”

Damon showed no outward surprise at the
question and answered evenly. “Yes. They’re exclusive. Adam’s
collared. I think they may be even getting married soon.”

Oliver thought about the answer; Damon
hadn’t made anything of it. Oliver decided he wasn’t going to
either.

“
You didn’t have to sit on
the floor just because Adam did,” Damon said casually.

Oliver raised nervous eyes. Had he done
wrong?

“
But it was nice,” Damon
continued, “I liked you there.”

Oliver smiled. He’d liked it there as well.
Damon brushed a kiss on Oliver’s hair, and Oliver stifled another
yawn.

Damon chuckled. “Someone needs a nap.”

Oliver laughed. He was happy, content. He
hadn’t embarrassed Damon and had done something in front of Damon’s
friends that had made him pleased. Maybe, just maybe, Oliver could
learn to be such a good sub for Damon, he wouldn’t ever want to go
looking for boys like Alec again.

Chapter Eleven

It was the smell he noticed first, as if he
knew he was being dragged back, because he knew what the warehouse
smelled like. Musty, like something had died. Was it him?

Oliver,
Oliver
.

Oliver hated it, that
sing-song voice he couldn’t escape from. Teasing him, hurting him.
Never letting him rest.
Just go
away,
he whined. He was so tired, he just
wanted to be left alone to sleep, to sleep forever.

Pain shot through his fingers, and Oliver
gasped. Eyes open, he sat up. Damon was there.

“
Oliver, everything’s okay.
It was a dream, a bad dream. You’re safe.” Damon rested an arm on
Oliver’s shoulders and Oliver sank into him. He was so tired. Even
when he slept, he didn’t get any rest. Oliver looked at the faint
scars on his arm where Damon’s hand rubbed slowly, and he
wanted…

Oliver caught his breath,
panicked.
Wicked.
He looked at his arms.
Breathe in,
out.
If he kept breathing, the feeling
would go away. He closed his eyes tight at the urge. It hadn’t been
this bad for a long time, but he desperately needed to cut the
poison out.

“
Oliver, Master Jameson
will be here in a few minutes.”

Oliver nodded and brushed his forearm with
his right thumb. He shuddered. It was intoxicating, wicked. Oliver
was suddenly angry, everything was so unfair. He moved sharply away
from Damon, and Damon let him go. Oliver didn’t look, he didn’t
want to see any reaction on Damon’s face.

“
I need the bathroom.”
Oliver didn’t say, “Sir,” or “please.” He was sick of having to
ask.

Damon stood and quietly followed him into
the bathroom. Oliver didn’t look at him once, and Damon left
silently after helping him get his sweats lowered.

Oliver breathed through his nose, nostrils
flaring, chest heaving. He just needed a minute to calm down.

When he was finished, Damon came back in and
helped him with his pants. “Would you like a drink?”

Oliver nodded, still not trusting his voice,
still not looking. Damon left the bathroom. “Juice?” He called
back, but Oliver ignored him. He stared at the mirror over the sink
at his huge white face. He still looked so young, that had been the
attraction, how he’d managed to earn the money. He suddenly wished
for gray hair and spots, scars, huge ugly lines that tracked up and
down his face. But no matter what he had done, his face was the
same, pale, dull. He needed something, and he glanced down at the
sink.

His breath caught. Damon’s razor. He knew
Damon wet shaved, sometimes twice a day. They’d joked about it
because Oliver only got fuzz even after two. He searched the
counter—no spare blades left about, besides which they were safety
razors, Oliver knew you couldn’t get the damn things out.

He heard a door open, and talking. He took
one last look at the razor then went out to meet Master
Jameson.

Oliver walked silently into the lounge.
Master Jameson stood looking out the large window. He huffed, why
would he do that? He’d already said he didn’t like heights. Doms.
Always felt they had to be better than someone else.

He blinked and met Master Jameson’s gaze,
blushing a little.

“
Shall we sit
down?”

Oliver nodded and went to the couch.

The doctor chose the chair opposite. “How
are you feeling?”

Oliver shrugged.
Stupid.

“
Damon tells me you are
having nightmares.” Oliver looked around. Where was Damon? “He’s
gone out. He had some errands to run.”

The doctor continued conversationally. “Is
the nightmares something that have developed since the kidnapping,
or is it something you have always had?”

“
Kidnapping?” Oliver
blurted. Shocked, he struggled with the word. It had seemed big,
scary.

“
You were kidnapped,
Oliver. You didn’t voluntarily go with your attacker.”

“
I.” Oliver stopped, heart
pounding. He had. He screwed his eyes up. He had gone with him. It
was his fault, it was always his fault.
Fucking waste of space.
His mom’s
bitter words echoed in his head.

“
Oliver, you may have got
into his car, but that was because of a deception. You were lied
to. Oliver.” The doctor’s voice lowered. “Oliver.”

He opened his eyes, looked into the doctor’s
steady, blue-grey ones.

“
If you had known exactly
what Kevin was planning to do to you, would you have got into the
car?”

Oliver shook his head helplessly, his
breaths coming faster.

“
Then you were kidnapped.
You didn’t go with him voluntarily. He took you against your will.”
The doctor paused. “Oliver, this isn’t your fault.”

Oliver heaved a shuddering sob back in,
couldn’t let it go, mustn’t, tears. So many tears, all the
time.

The doctor moved slowly and grabbed a
tissue, but instead of wiping his face as Damon would have done, he
simply guided Oliver’s right hand to do it himself.

“
Now, I want you to lean
back and close your eyes. Blow your nose if you have to, I want you
to get comfy.”

Oliver settled, but his breaths seemed
shallow, panicky. He wanted Damon. Damon would breathe for him,
push every breath in and out. Oliver didn’t even have to decide
when he breathed—Damon made that decision for him as well.

“
I need to you take a
medium breath, not a huge one. Just so you’re comfortable.” Yeah he
could do that.

“
Now let it out again.
There, easy, and another one. Good, Oliver. Very good.”

Oliver opened his mouth to agree.

“
And another one,” Master
Jameson interrupted. “This time I want you to stretch your toes out
at the same time, pretend they’ve been cramped and you’re getting
the chance to move them. In, out. Wonderful.”

Oliver kept with the breaths.

“
Now, rest your head back a
little. I need you to relax a little more, let’s see if I can help
you with that.”