Shattered Hearts A MFM Love Story

~ ~ Maddy ~ ~

Stomach in knots and armed with two bags of groceries, I headed inside the house pausing to kick off my pumps and walked through the kitchen. Dropping my keys and the bags on the table.

Thank heavens for central air. Breathing deeply, inside the house was much cooler than outside.

Looking down, my white t-shirt was streaked with dirt. Sucking on my lip, I wondered if I should head upstairs and change. No. That would likely raise more questions than I had answers to, and at least wearing my cut-off shorts and t-shirt looked like I’d been over at my parents’ house mucking out the stables, which wasn’t exactly a lie.

My stomach leapt hearing raised voices and every instinct since I stepped through the door was telling me to keep my guard up. It was his father’s voice that dominated the conversation between them.

Darn it. This wasn’t good and my shoulders sagged. I reckoned I could kiss goodbye to any ideas of Cooper being in a good mood.

Tiptoeing toward the hallway, I popped my head around the corner. Cooper’s voice was muffled, but I heard his father mention Cooper’s older brother, Walker.

Cooper was one of three children. The middle child. Walker, older by three years, was currently in Washington working for some up-and-coming senator hoping to prime his own political career. His younger sister, Annabelle, well let’s just say she didn’t think I was good enough for her brother, or her family and openly went out of her way to avoid me. Trust me, it was no loss.

Cooper’s relationship with his father was tempestuous at best. Arnold Stanton was nothing short of ruthless, both with his business and from what I’d seen his family. He expected Cooper to take over the mantle when he retired.

He’d have his work cut out for him. The last thing Cooper wanted was to be tied down to a job...any job, but especially one that required him to use his brain and sit behind a desk. He’d been the star quarterback, and it got him all the attention whether it was from girls who wanted to be with him or guys who wanted to be him. He’d been the pride and joy of Lockwood.

Cooper had loved the attention and adoration and I never understood why he agreed to this shambles of a marriage. But perhaps he hadn’t. Perhaps he was as trapped as I was?

The only difference being he seemed to enjoy making my life a misery.

Although at the start, he hadn’t been like this—cruel, hateful, abusive. He’d been almost attentive and nice. Not that would have ever made me want to marry him, either.

With a steadying breath, I made my way back inside the kitchen and unpacked the groceries. Another ten minutes would pass before I heard the slamming of the front door and my husband found me washing vegetables because dinner had to be ready for six on the dot from his approved menu, not that I cared, because I’d long since lost the ability to enjoy the food I ate.

Heavy footsteps made their way into the kitchen. Cooper headed straight for the refrigerator and pulled out a beer. And even with the warning bells going off in my head, I let my mouth stupidly run away with me. “A little early for that, don’t you think?”

Perhaps I’d brought some of that gumption home from Riley Jo’s? But it was a mistake and one no doubt I’d regret.

He growled. “Do I look like I give a fuck about what you think?”

I didn’t look up.

I jumped when he slammed the door closed, propping himself up against it and popped the bottle cap and asked. “Where’d you go today?” His tone was more hostile than I’d expected, cursing my loose tongue.

Swallowing, I was grateful when my voice didn’t betray my nerves. “I had my therapy appointment with Dr Miles, then spent the day at my parents—mostly in the stables.”

He pushed off from the refrigerator. “You’re a fucking liar, Maddy Lockwood.” He lowered his voice. “You must think I’m stupid...born yesterday.”

My eyelids shuttered closed for a second. I told myself he couldn’t know where I’d been today, but for a moment, fear bubbled in my chest and threatened to overtake me. But I choked it back.

“You listening to me?”

“Yeah,” my voice sounded smaller now and I hated it.

“Well, look at me, woman.”

Flipping off the faucet, I dropped the corn into the bowl at the side of me and reached for the hand towel and dried my hands, turning my head to face him, I had to stifle a gasp because he was glaring at me with a quiet intensity. The cool of his blue eyes made his gaze sharper as if he was cutting me open and looking inside.

What would he find inside? Nothing. It’s empty.

“Happy now?”

The rakish unruly hair cast a shadow over his forehead and I watched his muscles flex. He was barely holding his temper. Moving toward me, he slammed his bottled beer, barely touched, on the table.

And despite his bulk, he moved with the grace of a mountain cat as he crossed the room and I sucked in a breath, spinning away from him.

A shiver ran the length of me and, like the prey I’d become, I froze. And in the long space of a protracted moment, he was right behind me, his sickly warmth wrapping itself around me like vines of a plant. He pinned me between his body and the sink and a stab of profound fear engulfed me and I didn’t stop the whimper that crept up my throat and leaked out.

I realised he wasn’t touching me, but the threat was there as his thick arms braced on either side, flatting his palms on the sink.

A flurry of frightened heartbeats. I waited.

He shifted closer, but still kept space between us, leaning in.

Was he smelling my hair? The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end.

And then he spoke. “You look and smell like shit—go shower.” His voice was as empty and hard as his cold eyes.

My shoulders sagged, expecting much worse.

I spoke too soon.

He yanked my hair and pulled my head back. “And then me and you are gonna have a little talk,” he scoffed. “And trust me darlin’ you’d better not lie to me.” Roughly, he pushed my head forward. “Go!”

I didn’t argue as I scurried away from the room like a mouse escaping a cat and ran up the stairs – two at a time flying into the master bedroom and heading straight for our bathroom, shutting the door but not bothering to lock it behind me as that would do no good. He’d broken a lock before now.

Long, heaved breaths filled the small space and I counted in my head to calm my racing thoughts. I finally relaxed a little when I figured he’d not followed me. Opening the shower door, I flipped on the shower before stripping off my clothes.

Stepping under the cool jet spray, my nerves settled a fraction. Closing my eyes, I firmed up in my head what I was gonna say to him. I just had to make sure my story was convincing.

My eyes sprang open and a rush of cool air ran across my back and shoulders. He’d come into the bathroom.

“You done?” he asked.

“Out in a second.” I didn’t question his presence.

He tut-tutted and the shower door flung open and he stood there staring at me.

“I said I’m almost done.” There was no masking the panic in my voice.

His hand moved past me, flipping off the shower, ignoring the fact that it still covered half of my body in soap suds.

“Get out.”

Not bothering to argue as I stepped out. I went to move past him, but he side-stepped.

“Cooper,” I gentled my tone. “Please pass me a towel.” I wrapped my arms around myself as his eyes moved over me with lingering intent.

I shivered.

He ignored my request, stepping closer, his heat bearing down on me. “Now, we’re gonna try again.”

This close I would need to look up to see him, but I kept my head level, staring at the wall of chest. “I already told you where I’ve been today.” My words came out fast and shaky. Hell, I didn’t even convince myself.

“Yeah, therapy, right?” There was an edge to his voice. “Waste of fucking money, if you ask me.” He blew out air from his nose. Lifting a finger, he placed it under my chin and tilted my eyes up to his. “All that money and you still ain’t working right.” His eyes narrowed before he leaned down and spoke into my ear. “What’s the use of havin’ a wife that can’t fuck?”

I didn’t move a muscle. My insides may be rioting, wanting to flee, but I remained still, not willing to give him the satisfaction of letting him know how much he intimidated and scared me.

I almost flinched when he pulled back and his thick finger swiped a strand of wet hair from my face. “I think I might go to one of these therapy appointments of yours. See for myself if it’s worth all the money I’m spending. Ask them when they’re gonna fix you.”

Fix me. He didn’t realise he was part of the problem. The therapist said my condition was called dyspareunia or vaginismus. The spasms of my muscles made penetration impossible. She’d said it was psychological and brought about by trauma. When we’d discussed it in more detail, I decided it stemmed from that night in the barn. When Jackson had seen me with his brother, Logan.

It had been made worse on my wedding night when Cooper had tried to force himself on me. Being drunk, he’d finally passed out. But every time he’d tried after that it just got worse and I’d freeze up and a panic attack would consume me from the underlying fear.

“Where else did you go today?” Both hands moved to my shoulders, shifting across and down to grasp my upper arms, gripping tightly over the bruises that had faded somewhat. I tried not to wince from the pain. “And before you open that sweet mouth, I’m gonna let you in on a little secret.”

I gulped.

“You likin’ that fancy new car I got you?” His fingers dug in and this time I did wince.

I tried to focus on what he’d said. The car. It had surprised me when he’d given me keys to a new car a few days back. He’d been nice, saying it was his way of an apology and he would try harder to be nicer.

He continued to enlighten me, his tone mocking. “I made sure it came fitted with all that fancy equipment.” He moved back further so he could take in the measure of my eyes. “GPS.” His lips curled up into a cruel smile.

The air left my lungs in a whoosh. There was no use in lying. “Riley Jo’s,” I whispered.

He lifted a hand to his ear. “What was that, Princess?” He made the word princess sound like a curse word.

I spoke louder. “I went to see Riley Jo.”

He exhaled loudly. “Did I give you fucking permission to go see your bitch of a sister?” Something shifted in his eyes. “Did I?”

“No,” I said weakly, looking down. “I just wanted to see her.”

“You think it’s okay to visit a murderer?”

He was referring to his best friend, Clay Henderson, who’d died in the fire at Adam’s home. I kept my mouth shut. He was still angry over Clay and it didn’t matter that it wouldn’t have happened if he hadn’t gone near my sister.

And that was the night everything changed and the cruelty went beyond verbal taunts and the occasional slap. Sometimes, God forgive me, I wished he’d died right along with him.

“What did I tell you would happen if you went near her?”

He said he’d make sure he’d hurt her. My throat bobbed reflexively as my eyes flashed up to his. “Please, Cooper. She’s my sister.”

“I don’t fuckin’ care if she’s the queen of England.”

I had to try and fix this. “Don’t blame her.” Shaking my head. “This was my fault.” I panicked. “Tell me what to do to make this okay?”

He directed the full force of his attention to me, not speaking. My breathing picked up, unable to stomach the uncomfortable pause. “Please...”

“You make me look like a goddamn fool,” he said, spit flying from his lips.

I shook my head. “No, no. I never meant—” My voice wobbled.

“Get on your knees.”

Four words and I blinked and blinked again.

His voice deepened. “Do I need to repeat myself?”

I lowered to my knees, the cold hard tiles beneath them.

His hand grabbed a fistful of hair, forcing my head back until his disdainful expression glared back at me.

“Undo my pants and get out my cock, Princess.”

My gulp was audible as my toes curled and bile rose up my throat, but I didn’t hesitate or flinch at his request. Out of all the punishment he could bestow, this wasn’t the worst, although it was damn unpleasant.

Fumbling with his belt, then his zipper, I pulled them down along with his underwear as my heart beat a clipped rhythm in my chest. His erection was inches from my face, his musky scent filled my nose, and I didn’t even realise I was crying.

“Shut the fuck up and suck me.”

The next breath I took allowed his dick to push past my lips and bathed my tongue in his salty pre-cum. I tried to focus on my breathing and not on the rising panic. What I couldn’t stop was the frightened sounds around his heavy thrusting weight, which did nothing but excite him further.

He liked my fear.

He pressed impossibly deeper as I gagged, and I couldn’t see anything through my tear-filled eyes.

“That’s right, Princess, take it all.”

I tried to think of anything but what was happening to me. He knotted his fingers in my hair, pulling harder and he thrust mercilessly. I choked around him and when I finally heard him groan, my lungs and throat burned.

Another low groan as his grip on my hair loosened as he stilled his movements and the first spurt of his semen ran down my throat.

He pulled back just a fraction as more spurted out.

My face was wet with tears and my body was drenched in a film of cold sweat. Not much longer, don’t panic. I told myself.

His softening dick finally retreated, and I sucked in all the available air. Cooper’s heavy breaths filled the room.

Two steps back, I fell forward, coughing, spilling semen on the floor in sticky wet plops.

“Clean that shit up,” he instructed, as my body shook.

Not looking up, he took another step back, and I heard him fasten his pants and fix his belt. “I’d get a move on.” He sneered. “Don’t want to be late with dinner.”

Not able to move, he turned and left me on my hands and knees. As his footsteps retreated, my stomach emptied itself.

Fourteen months suddenly felt like a lifetime and one I wasn’t sure I could survive.