They’d finally caught the madman who had been kidnapping, torturing and murdering submissives. Damon had knelt in that warehouse, clutching Oliver, the boy barely alive, and somehow in the weeks that followed Damon never seemed to be able to let him go.
Oliver is broken, in body, mind, and spirit. And for the first time since he brought him home from the hospital, Damon starts to question himself. Is he going to be enough for Oliver? If he can somehow find all the pieces of Oliver’s broken soul, will he be able to mend them? Or have the horrors that ripped through Oliver left too many holes for Damon to repair? And finally, if he tries and fails to put Oliver back together, will Damon be able to stop his own heart from shattering in the process?
Oliver hadn’t realized he was crying when Damon came back, until Damon wiped his face with his finger. He gulped a breath. “Sorry. I’m sorry.”
“What for now?”
“I can leave. They’ve taken the bandages off now. I’ll—”
Damon shook his head. “We need to go over this again, boy, don’t we?”
Oliver raised his face. “You call me that, but I’m not, am I?”
Damon tilted his head. “Do you want to be?”
Oliver mumbled and glanced down again. Damon held his chin. “Oliver, look at me please.” Oliver raised his eyes to those warm grey ones. “Do you want to be my boy?”
Oliver nodded, then shook his head. “I’m broken. I could never be anyone’s boy. And I can’t be hurt.” Oliver lifted his chin as he spoke those bald, bare words. He stripped them of every emotion. Damon had to understand. If he was going to throw him away, it was better sooner than later. “Ever. I can’t be hurt ever again.”
Damon stood up and took two strides to the window. He turned his back and Oliver shrank. It was coming, he’d finally tipped him over the edge. His heart, so fragile for so long, was going to finally break in two. Oliver looked wildly around the room. He had to get out of here.
“Apart from being too slow to catch the bastard that did this, what did I ever do wrong to you?” Damon sounded so hurt.
Oliver’s mouth dropped as his mind crowded with Damon’s words. Bewildered, he shook his head. “You didn’t do anything to me.”
Damon turned. “Then why would you just insult me by thinking for one second I would imagine you to be in any head space where you would think either I would hurt you, or that you would find it pleasurable? Or worse, that I would?” Damon’s grey eyes flashed in anger. “I have repeatedly told you why you are here, boy. I do not lie, unless it’s a cover story I have to make up for my job. I haven’t lied to you since I untied you from that cross. Either you decide, right now, you can trust me, or I will arrange for the doctors to transfer you to a private nursing home. You will receive excellent professional care and it won’t cost you a penny. You will still be visited by the same people you would have been visited by before.” Damon’s mouth twisted on the last words. “I am sorry, Oliver. I have failed you again. I don’t know any other way of making you feel safe.”
Before Oliver could even think of a reply, in four strides, Damon was out of the bedroom and had closed the door behind him.
MM Love stories - because the only thing better than one hot guy is two of them.
Has loved books for as long as she can remember. Books were always what pocket money went on and what usually Father Christmas brought. When she ran out of her kids' adventure stories, she would go raid her mom's. By the age of eight she was devouring classics like Little Women, and fell in love with love stories.
She's still in love with them. Any size, any shape, any creature - love is love, no matter what it says on the box.
In fact if they don't fit very neatly into any box she loves them even more!
She has a very patient husband and three wonderful children. In 2010 in search of adventure they all moved from the UK to the US and are happily settled in Florida. Finally, after reading love stories for so long, she decided to write her own.
