Chapter 13 #3
“It hurts because of the recoil impact. Did I not tell you to stand over there? What on earth were you thinking?”
I assumed he berated me because he was scared at my reckless behaviour.
Still, he could’ve been more compassionate.
Nathan continued shouting at Greg, who staunchly protested he shouldn’t be blamed.
“How did you even manage to hold up the gun?” Matt wasn’t finished telling me off.
“Do you know how badly you could’ve been injured? This is by far the most ridiculous, not to mention dangerous thing you’ve ever done. Did I not tell you to stay put? I have a right mind to paddle your arse for disobeying me.”
“It hurts,” I whimpered, while feeling very sorry for myself.
“Everyone was doing it, and it looked easy.”
Matt stopped, his mouth opening and closing in disbelief before he shook his head and told Nathan to bring my purse and his jacket.
Soon I was back inside sat on a stool in a parlour holding an ice-pack to my face while Matt held one to my shoulder.
Bella, sweet Bella, had been hurling reproach at both Matt and Nathan.
Luckily, a couple of guests were actual surgeons.
One of them checked me over, gently rotating my arm to check if anything was broken while I gulped whiskey down.
Karen had suggested it for the shock.
Karen knew what was what.
The whiskey was much appreciated, and I made the waiter leave the bottle.
“Poppet,” Matt murmured as he lifted the ice-pack to tenderly kiss my throbbing shoulder.
“Silly woman.” The ice-pack went back and he scowled fiercely.
“I’m sorry.” I said for the hundredth time.
Why did I have to apologize?
I was the injured one here.
“Everyone was doing it.”
“Because they all know how to handle a shotgun, Madi.” Bella pointed out, absent-mindedly rubbing her tummy.
“What on earth were you thinking?”
I guess it was my turn to bear her wrath.
“She wasn’t thinking.” Nathan added, glaring at me.
Why was he mad?
“It looked fun.” I said defensively.
“And I watched the way you guys were doing it. Look, this isn’t my fault. Greg shouldn’t have given me that gun. It was supposed to be fun.”
“Are you having fun now?” That came from Matt, heavy with sarcasm.
“No, not really.” I replied in a ‘poor me’ voice.
Matt’s gaze softened immediately.
“Let’s get you home.”
“No,” I protested.
“Don’t be silly. It feels kind of numb now, I don’t mind staying. Go have fun with your friends, I’ll just,” I eyed the bottle of whiskey.
“Rest here for a while.”
Matt raised an eyebrow.
“I think it’s best to take you home, poppet.”
“I’m fine,” I reiterated, adding, “Honestly.” when they exchanged sceptical looks.
“Go mingle. I’ll be out in a moment. Maybe ten-fifteen minutes.”
Still they hesitated.
I really wanted to have a moment alone to huddle on that comfy looking chair nursing my shoulder and downing some more whiskey.
Damned parties.
Why did these stupid things happen to me?
It must be a form of jinx, I was jinxed.
Stupid shotgun, stupid clay pigeons, stupid party.
Who in their right mind allows clay-shooting on their property?
“Go.” I waved towards the door.
“I’ll be fine.”
Nathan took his wife’s hand and tugged her forward.
Matt kissed my temple.
“Be right back. I’ll just let Franklin know we’re leaving.”
“Matt,”
He kissed my mouth softly, leaning back to gently rub his thumb across my bottom lip.
“Don’t ever pull a stupid stunt like that again, young lady. You scared the hell out of me.”
I managed a grin, I had scared myself.
“We can stay-”
“No,” he cut me off.
“I’m taking you home.”
When he got like this there was no arguing with him so I simply nodded, wincing in the process as he took away the ice-pack I held and pressed my hand to the one on my shoulder.
“I’ll be right back.” he repeated then the three of them hurried out the room.
Careful not to jar my shoulder, I slipped off the stool and muttered under my breath, “Jesus, Mary and Joseph.”
The things I got myself into.
The whiskey bottle had been closed tight, it would take too much effort to open the darned thing with a bum arm.
Sucking my teeth I minced towards the chair.
Dante was going to kill me.
How could I dance with a busted shoulder?
Maybe I should head to A that was how I felt.
With a muffled attempt of protestation from my mouth, Dougie seized the opportunity and slid his tongue in; groaning against my lips as he immediately tried to engage me in a tongue tango.
His hand gripped my hip tightly while he ground his lower body into mine, pressing his ever present arousal intimately into me.
Oh no.
Matt had been right all along.
Ignoring the burst of pain in my shoulder I wrenched my head away.
“What are you doing?” I hissed.
“You have ruined everything. We’re friends. Why would you-”
“I dinnae just want to be yer friend,” Dougie’s voice was a mix of passion and frustration as he kneaded his fingers over my hip.
“I want to be with ye. Since the first time I saw ye, I’ve wanted ye.”
“I’m married, you jerk. Why would you do this? You’re ruining it.” And he was.
Dougie was a buffer for me.
His friendship a welcomed relief, a reminded that there were people from their social stratosphere who were normal.
His friendship meant a lot to me.
And now he’d irrevocably ruined it.
“I’m married.” I repeated softly, peering into his hazel eyes, willing him to understand.
“Aye, but I dinnae care, my wee flower. Can ye nae feel it? This thing between us, I do, and I ken ye do too.”
I shook my head.
“No, I don’t. I love my husband. Now get off.”
Dougie’s breathing was erratic as his gaze dropped to my lips.
“Please, Madi. I cannae stop thinking about ye. The way ye laugh, the way ye smile. Yer lovely brown skin against mine. Och, lass, I have dreams about ye scent! I need ye, no one has to ken. I need to be with ye. To touch ye the way I want to touch ye.” Dougie looked directly into my eyes, his face was raw with honesty.
“Ye’ve made me fall in love with ye.”
“Get. Off.” I kept my voice firm.
I would not struggle.
Firstly, he was bigger, stronger than me; struggling would be futile.
Secondly, struggling would mean I had no control; maintaining control in this situation was a dire necessity.
I kept my eyes fixed on his, I let him see on my face that this was unacceptable.
And with a cold anger swelling up inside me, I said it once more.
“Get. Off. Now.”
“Did you not hear my wife, McGregor?” Matt’s empty voice came from the doorway, startling us both.
If there was any pee in me I would’ve wet myself.
Oh sweet Jesus!
Sweet Jesus, there would be a reckoning tonight.
Dougie stared longingly at me, his hand rose up to tenderly tuck a stray curl behind my ear, before he let out a tired sigh.
He stepped away, shoulders tensing and jaw jutting out defiantly as my husband walked into the room.
Matt’s features were serene, his eyes though, they were glittering hard icicles.
I was praying in my head, praying someone didn’t end up dead.
Oh no.
All those shotguns.
Someone would end up dead tonight…
Matt had finally calmed the knot of fear in his stomach.
The memory of Madi on the ground with that gun.
Bloody hell.
He had never felt so afraid in his life.
What on earth went through that head of hers?
He muscled his way through the crowd of people, eager to get back to her and away from here.
The bruise on her shoulder was horrendous.
An ugly purple splotch, marring the rich brown he loved.
She could’ve been killed!
Or killed someone.
Bloody Kinman.
The man was a complete fool, putting such a large shotgun in her hands.
Was he blind?
She was only tiny.
A petite woman with delicate hands.
Matt was still unable to believe she’d hefted the heavy gun and managed to fire a round.
Her poor shoulder.
He’d seen the fright in her eyes when she thought she’d done serious damage to her arm.
The fear of not being able to dance again.
Well, she’d never do anything as stupid as this again.
“Silly woman.” he muttered to himself as he neared the parlour where he’d left her.
He would need to call Rachel, order her to get some prescription level painkillers over to the house.
Madi would regret her reckless actions in the morning, no doubt.
Matt opened the door and froze, shocked at the scene before him.
McGregor was kissing his wife.
Kissing his fucking wife as if she was his own!
There was a moment of nothingness.
He felt nothing, too shocked to process the sight of McGregor’s mouth on his wife.
Then a boiling rage erupted from the deepest part of him.
The intensity of it caused his hands to shake.
Matt took a deep breath, preparing to go over there and rip the man’s head off; but he paused.
Was Madi a willing participant?
A burning pain overrode the anger he felt at the thought of his poppet betraying him.
He stood frozen in place.
When she pulled away from the kiss, visibly upset, the ache in his chest lessened.
Matt, still unnoticed by them, stepped past the doorway.
He forced himself to remain where he was as they argued.
If he took another step he would kill McGregor without a doubt.
The press would have a field day, never mind the possible jail sentence.
Matt opened his mouth to draw their attention to him, but failed to speak when McGregor declared his love for Madi.
The Scotsman was mad, and suicidal it seemed.
Madi told him to get off and McGregor didn’t move.
Matt took another step as she told him again.
“Did you not hear my wife, McGregor?” he asked blandly.
The look on Madi’s face, if Matt wasn’t enraged it would’ve made him chuckle.
McGregor.
Fucking McGregor had the nerve to brush her hair back behind her ear, a decidedly tender gesture that Matt himself did countless times.
The Scotsman did have a death wish.
Matt kept his gaze on McGregor as he spoke.
“Madison, go wait for me in the foyer.”
She stood rooted to the floor, squeezing the ice-pack and peering at him with wide eyes.
Her dark brown irises reflected her current uncertainty.
“Matt,” she began, glancing frantically between him and McGregor.
“Madison.” The warning in his tone had her jerkily moving forward and dropping the ice-pack as she clumsily picked up her purse and his discarded dinner jacket.
“Matt, please,” she called.
He remained silent, gaze locked on McGregor’s defiant pose.
Madi gulped, loud enough to be heard, and shuffled towards the door.
“Please, hon,”
“Close the door on your way out.” Matt commanded.
“I’ll be right outside,” she said timidly.
“I’ll be waiting right outside, Matt. Don’t do anything foolish.”
“Madison.” he dragged out and she fled the room.
Once the door closed a cold smile spread over his face.
“I was wondering how long it would be before you tried it on with her.”
“Fuck ye, Bradley.” McGregor glared at him, his fists clenched tightly as they eyed each other.
Matt took another step in his direction.
“A coward,” he sneered.
“Only a coward would attempt to seduce another man’s wife.”
“I’m not a damn coward.” McGregor growled, taking a step towards Matt.
“I’ve been on to you since the night of the auction.” Matt said conversationally.
“You were like a bitch in heat when you saw her.”
McGregor’s pallor darkened with anger at Matt’s words.
“She deserves better. She shouldnae be with the likes of ye.”
“Well, she is,” Matt said, fighting the growing urge to wrap his hands around the man’s neck.
“And you seem to have forgotten she was already mine when you first met her. Now she’s my wife, McGregor. I’m the one shagging her. Every, single, night.” Matt smirked at him, knowing his crude, brutal words pained the Scotsman.
It gave him perverse pleasure to remind Dougal of that.
“Most days too, if I’m honest.”
“Bastard.” McGregor rushed him and Matt welcomed it.
He wanted to smash the man’s face in, but knowing Madi, she would be right outside the door.
Matt evaded the punch McGregor threw and grabbed him violently around the neck.
“Stay the hell away from my wife, McGregor. Don’t contact her. If you see her at a function walk the other bloody way. If I catch you ever looking at my wife again, I will beat seven shades of shit out of you then ruin you! Do you understand me? I will take every thing your family has worked for and piss it away. Try me, McGregor. You try me, and you’ll regret it.” Matt shoved him back.
He watched dispassionately as McGregor stumbled before finding his footing.
“We will not be having this discussion again. You’ve been warned. Madison no longer exists for you.”
With a final warning glare, Matt stormed out the room.
Sure enough Madison stood outside the door, fidgeting from one foot to the next.
“Matt-”
“We’re leaving.” He gave her a look and the corners of her mouth dipped.
Matt turned on his heels, the long strides he took meant she had to quicken her steps to keep up.
“Matt, hon,” Madi began.
“Can we just talk about-”
“We’ll discuss it once we’ve left.” Matt bit out tersely and automatically slowed his steps when he saw the grimace of pain on her face.
Brushing past numerous guests, they walked silently through the property until they were outside waiting for the valet to bring his car around.
Madi tried to slip her left hand in his.
Matt cocked his head in her direction before deliberately putting space between them.
Did she think she could flutter her thick eyelashes with that remorseful look on her face and all would be forgotten?
“Matt, I-”
He held a hand up, not wanting to hear the sincere plea in her soft voice.
The valet pulled up in Matt’s car and left the driver’s door ajar as Matt hurried forward to take his keys.
Madi kept peering nervously at him as the valet quickly circled to open the passenger’s door.
Hesitating, she chewed her lower lip and eyed the Bugatti with trepidation.
“Get in, Madison.” Matt ordered with a lowering of eyebrows.
She knew she was in for it.
She bloody well knew…
A plan was needed.
One that would absolve me of any wrongdoing.
Hell, I hadn’t done anything wrong.
Frigging Dougal McGregor.
Why did he have to kiss me?
We’d been in the car for five minutes.
The way Matt gripped the steering wheel indicated how furious he was.
He was clutching the wheel so tightly his knuckles were white, Matt better ease up on his grip before he broke the thing.
His side profile also revealed the seething anger coursing through him.
I definitely didn’t like the clenched jaw, it looked as if he was grinding his teeth.
“Matt-”
“Did I not warn you, Madison?” he interrupted with that calm question.
He’d been interrupting me ever since he walked in on the kiss.
He wouldn’t even let me explain my side of what just took place.
“Did I not say,” He sent me a cold sidelong glance as the car cruised along the road.
“ Numerous times , mind you; that McGregor was interested in more than friendship?”
“It’s not my fault.” I exclaimed.
“How was I to know Dougie would kiss me?”
Matt growled in anger at the reminder and gave me another hard look.
“I told you, Madison, but you refused to heed my words. I told you he was a cad who wanted you, and you persistently ignored my warnings. Spouting complete nonsense about you two just being friends. Friends my arse!”
Ok.
The level of his voice had increased a few decibels.
I was on dangerous territory now.
“I think he just had too much to drink-”
“You’re making excuses for him?” Matt’s incredulous shout made me jump.
I winced at the jolt of pain in my shoulder as I reasoned, “Can you just calm down?”
“Calm down?” Matt drawled in a low tone.
“You want me to calm down?”
With a mental curse at my folly, I shrank against the leather upholstery.
The worst thing you can do when dealing with an irate person is to tell them to ‘calm down’.
It only infuriates them further.
“I bloody well warned you.” he repeated harshly.
“Yet you allowed your naivety to lead you into a situation where another man put his hands on you.” Matt slammed one hand against the steering wheel.
“What was it he said? Hmm, Madison? Ah yes, you made him fall in love with you. How did you do that, sweetheart ?”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Matthew.” I was getting mad now.
“At least he didn’t have his hand on my bits like Louisa did with you that night! It was just a stupid kiss. I didn’t know Dougie would do something like this. I thought we were friends.”
At my utterance of the word ‘friends’ Matt swore softly under his breath.
The intermittent light from the street lamps as we drove by allowed me to see the increasing anger on his features.
Not only were his cheeks a dark splotchy red, but his eyes seemed to be stuck in a perpetual narrowed state, and his mouth curled into an unpleasant line.
“Matt, let’s just forget this whole mess. You know, technically if you hadn’t forced me to accompany you to this party, none of this would have happened. If you look at it from that point of view, you should shoulder some of the blam-”
“Shut up.” his frigid command was devoid of all emotions.
“I swear if you don’t shut up right now,”
My lips pressed tightly together.
Matt had never spoken to me like that before, not ever.
I stared at his clenched hands over the steering wheel.
“I warned you.” Matt muttered.
Ok.
He wasn’t just mad.
What was stronger than livid?
Enraged didn’t quite cover the look on his handsome face.
Oh shit.
What had occurred in the parlour?
Matt was extremely possessive, and he wouldn’t take it well: the fact another man had been playing kissy faces with me.
“You didn’t hurt Dougie, did you?” I blurted out.
Yes, I was annoyed with Dougie’s behaviour but that didn’t mean I wanted him beaten to a pulp.
Matt twisted his head in my direction.
His eyes glinted, burning holes through me as he asked, “Are you concerned over his well-being, Madison? Are you worried about your friend ?”
Crappity crap.
It was the wrong thing to ask.
I needed to shut the hell up.
With a quick shake of head I avoided his eyes and resumed staring at his white knuckles.
This was bad.
The silence on the drive home was worse than any silence we’d ever endured, and Matt’s angry expression disappeared, replaced by a mask of impassiveness.
I preferred the anger.
The expression he wore now had my mind on hyper-drive.
What was he planning to do?
I snuck anxious peeks at his profile.
He looked like a man with premeditation on the brain, and yes, I meant premeditation of a murderous act.
I was the dead one, not stupid Dougie who couldn’t keep his lips to himself.
God.
I wished I’d stayed home tonight.
A plan was definitely needed.
I had my keys in the clutch.
Maybe when Matt pulled up in front the house I could run to my car and escape before he did something that couldn’t be undone.
But would I be able to drive with a bum shoulder?
George was home.
George would protect me…
but George was undoubtedly loyal to Matt.
Heck.
He’d probably help him dispose of my body, and I didn’t really speak to the neighbours so I couldn’t go knocking on their doors.
Fumbling with nerves I managed to ease my cell out the clutch.
Matt glanced over, noticing the movements of my hands.
He still wore that empty expression on his face, confirming my worst thoughts.
I was certain he’d made peace with the decision to end me.
Stupid Dougie .
Sticking his tongue in my mouth.
There was nothing for it, I needed to call the cops right now and have them meet us at the house.
“Who are you intending to call, Madison?” Matt eyed my cell.
His pleasant question made my fingers tremble even more.
Why was he so calm?
And his continued use of my first name spelt trouble.
I just shook my head, mindful of his ‘shut up’ threat.
I was being ridiculous.
Matt abhorred violence, especially violence against women.
He’d never hurt me.
My husband was a rational being.
A civilized Englishman, who would never lower himself to commit something as distasteful as murder.
Plus he loved me.
With that reassuring thought I relaxed a bit, knowing once we got home I could better reason with him.
It wasn’t my fault.
When we finally parked up in front our home, Matt turned the engine off and twisted sideways to stare at me.
“I’m very angry over this whole situation,” One eyebrow was lowered.
“Very angry, Madison.”
“I’m sorry.” I said with heartfelt remorse, even though my inner voice was saying: girl, what you sorry for?