Pure Innocence Read Online Free PDF Page A

down again, and stared
at the large bandaged stumps that used to be fully functioning
hands. He knew they were wrapped, padded for protection, but
somewhere in his drug addled memories and of the last few weeks of
pain he knew they’d been seriously hurt.
    His mind shied away from that thought.
Listen to the breathing. Listen… his breath hitched, and he screwed
his eyes shut. He desperately tried not to wake up the gorgeous man
who sat next to the bed. Damon? Yeah, that was his name.
    Damon was asleep. He sat on a chair next to
the bed—in what looked to be a dreadfully uncomfortable
position—his head resting on the bed cover, eyes firmly closed,
beautiful, full lips slack, breathing quietly.
    Oliver moved slightly. His hands hurt, they
always did. His shoulders weren’t as sore, just achy; but his back
and his ass hurt at the moment. He supposed he’d been in bed a
while. His heart thumped again at that thought. He didn’t even know
how long he’d been here.
    He didn’t want to wake Damon up though. If
he woke up, he might go, because—and that was another problem—he
had no idea why this gorgeous, kind man was here, and he was here
all the time. Anytime Oliver needed him, he made him feel safe,
which was even scarier. Oliver didn’t like being dependent on
anyone else for his safety, although he hadn’t done such a good job
of it lately.
    Oliver lay back, helpless to push the memory
away, how all the boys at the club were talking about the guy
looking for new porn stars, how Oliver should try out because he
looked so young, how he would make bundles of cash, live in a
swanky apartment, get to visit big cities all over the world. The
guy had been so nice, so convincing, and Oliver had been so
stupid.
    Oliver felt the tears on
his face but he didn’t have the energy to brush them away. He was
so stupid. The nightmare had told him he deserved it, every day,
day after day, when it hurt so bad. He’d laughed and said he
deserved it because he was stupid. And he’d been right, because he
was. Too stupid to live . That’s what everyone called it, his TSTL moment. His heart
hammered, and his throat burned. He so desperately wanted a
drink.
    He briefly considered calling the nurses,
and dismissed the ridiculous thought instantly. Apart from the fact
that the nurses were so noisy, and so damn annoyingly cheerful all
the time, they weren’t exactly quiet, and Damon looked like he
needed his sleep. Then there was the matter of how the hell would
he call them. He looked over at the closed door, and the pad he
could buzz them with if he wanted. What no one seemed to realize
was that he had no functioning fingers to press any buzzer. What
the hell was he supposed to do, hit it with his nose or
something?
    “ Hey.”
    Oliver’s breath hitched. Damon. The man was
awake, easing back and stretching. He felt the flush start in his
skin and didn’t know what to say.
    “ God, I hope you’re comfier
than me,” Damon teased. At least Oliver hoped he was teasing. It
was on the tip of his tongue to tell Damon he could go home and get
some proper sleep but he didn’t want him to. If he left he might
not come back. Damon stood up, and reached for the glass. Oliver
opened his mouth gratefully and swallowed the cool water, and Damon
dabbed his face gently with a tissue.
    The door opened and two
nurses and three doctors walked in. Oliver whimpered. His hands,
God, it had hurt yesterday. Oliver hadn’t even been properly awake
when the doctor had moved them, and the pain… The doctor had
touched the top of his fingers and Oliver had thought it was him ; that the nightmare
had come back, that he was back in the warehouse and it was all
starting over again. He inched nearer to Damon.
    “ Good morning, Mr. Neil,”
Dr. DeSouza started.
    Oliver mumbled and Damon casually sat down
on the bed. Oliver moved closer, and the chatty nurse smirked.
    The doctor gave him a brief smile and said,
“Mr. Neil, now that you’re awake, can I