A/N: So sorry for the wait, first off, hope it wasn't too bad. I was on vacation and just wasn't able to update since I didn't bring my computer.

Warnings: So, this chapter comes with some heavy warnings. There is not a lot of violence, but there is heavy violence in this chapter. It's really sick stuff actually. And I really don't want you thinking poorly of me for writing it. Literally, I had a very hard time putting it all on paper, my heart just ached as I wrote it. But this chapter is necessary for the development of Montparnasse's character.

Please, I hope you don't judge me for this. And if heavy and sick violence will bother you, I advise you to skip this chapter and continue on the next one. I promise to add in some sweet moments amidst the angst, but the angst is pretty unavoidable when dealing with a domestic violence story.

Again, reader discretion is advised.


...

Of Hockey, Harmonies, and Husbands

Chapter 9 - Of Losing Guilt

...

With her feet tucked under her on the bed and the remote in her hand, the channels flicked endlessly until she finally gave up and settled on some home improvement show. Though as she stared at the television, Éponine's mind could not fully concentrate on what she was watching.

All she kept thinking about was Enjolras. She wondered if she offended him by not going to the bar as he asked her to. But she was still a little upset with him for assuming things about her marriage; things that were obviously not true. But as she mindlessly stared at the television and wondered about Enjolras, her thoughts were constantly being dragged to the room on the other side of the wall. The loud shouts and the repeated banging kept making it a little hard to concentrate. Montparnasse and his friends were in the kitchen playing poker just as they always did a few nights a month. Éponine, however, knew better than to bother them while they played their game, so she stayed in her bedroom, watching TV and just waiting for the night to finally end.

A loud crash followed by cackling laughter caused her to jump but she calmed down as soon as they did. She hugged herself a little tighter against her pillow and forced her mind to concentrate on the show in front of her.

Meanwhile in the kitchen, Montparnasse sat with Brujon, Babet and Claquesous around the small table with poker chips strewn about and cards lying haphazardly.

"You suck at this game," Brujon chuckled as he collected his chips from the center of the table.

Montparnasse only scowled back at him. "It's just a bad night," he snapped.

"If that's what you tell yourself to sleep at night..." Babet said, adding his two-sense.

"Let's go again," Montparnasse deadpanned.

Claquesous scoffed, "You lose again and yer outta money."

"I won't lose."

Claquesous shook his head with a smile. "Alright, then let's go..." His large and calloused hands scooped up the cards from the table and began distributing them.

"Hey, y'know I saw Thenárdier the other day," Brujon said as he looked over his hand of cards.

"...and?" Montparnasse asked while he mentally scowled at the cards in front of him.

"He asked how 'Ponine was doing. I just told him, 'Like I know?' The hell I look like? Her keeper or something? But I know he's itchin' to see her. Don't ask me why, but - "

"I'll make sure to tell her," Montparnasse sneered, cutting off his friend.

"Well, ya should invite him over. I dunno, have 'Ponine cook dinner or something." Montparnasse nodded, already bored with this conversation. Brujon grunted in the silence. "Also asked about that son o' his. Where is he now anyway?"

Montparnasse shrugged, "'Ponine knows. I think he's up north or something like that. Kid's got a new family now. 'Zel didn't want to take him, I think."

"And what? 'Ponine didn't want him either?" Babet asked.

Montparnasse's eyes glared up to him over his set of cards. "I hate children," he spit. "Besides, I think he's eighteen now, so the kid can do what he wants." He reached for the pile and exchanged two of his cards. He mentally cursed again seeing his new hand. "Look, we gonna do this round or not?"

The boys chuckled and soon the stakes began to rise. Montparnasse put his last few chips in the center. "Call," Claquesous prompted. They all displayed their cards followed by a fist pump from Brujon.

"I win!" he grinned. "I told you, you suck at this game 'Parnasse."

Montparnasse growled slamming his fists on the table. "Again! And this time I'm gonna win it all back."

"You got nothing left!" Babet shouted, "Game over for you."

Montparnasse glowered darting his eyes about the room. "My watch," he announced, beginning to take it off his wrist.

"I don't want your stupid watch," Brujon snorted.

"Then name something," Montparnasse growled.

But just as the words left his mouth, all eyes turned up to the doorway and there stood a sheepish Éponine. She gave a brief, sad and polite smile. "I just wanted some water," she said meekly.

Every eye watched her as she walked around them to the refrigerator and pulled out a water bottle. She fingered it in her hands for a bit, struggling to open the top. She tiptoed up to Montparnasse, "Could you open it for me, please? I just put on moisturizer."

Montparnasse nodded and grabbed the bottle from her hands. Her twisted the cap off before he took a sip from it and then handed the water bottle and the cap back to her.

"Thank you," she squeaked before she nearly dashed out of the room.

Montparnasse brought his attention back to the boys who were exchanging mischievous glances with each other. "Well?" he said impatiently. "Name something."

Brujon smirked devilishly showing off his gapped and yellowed teeth, "Éponine."

"What about her?"

He chuckled over his next words while the boys sat with their evil smirks as well. "We decided...we want to watch her touch herself," he whispered.

"No!" Montparnasse snapped angrily.

"Well! I know you won't let anyone of us spend the night with her...so...c'mon man," Brujon begged, the smirk falling from his face.

Montparnasse clenched his jaw tightly. "No," he said again.

"C'mon, you can watch too!" Babet piped in.

"Éponine is not for your enjoyment," he deadpanned.

"Oh? But she's only for yours? Where's the fairness in that?" Brujon cut him off, "C'mon, we all know how hot she is...I get hard just looking at her. C'mon 'Parnasse, just once?"

"No," Montparnasse barked. "Name something else."

Brujon fell back in his seat discontented. "Fine..." he grumbled until another smirk crossed his lips. "Then...I want to see you punish her," he stated.

Montparnasse looked a little taken aback as his eyebrows furrowed. "But she didn't do anything."

"Oh, but she will. So why not get ahead?"

Montparnasse took in a deep breath, thinking it over. "What else?"

"Montparnasse! C'mon...just whack her or something. That's it."

He grumbled while his hands tapped the table. "That's it?"

"That's it," Brujon repeated.

Montparnasse exhaled a long breath. "Fine."

The boys exchanged chuckles as Claquesous scooped up the cards and distributed them once again. Montparnasse smirked when he picked up his hand, but he quickly let his smile fall as he put on his poker face. The rest of the boys put their chips in the center of the table. "I fold," Claquesous announced as he looked at the amount of chips in the center of the table.

"Same," Babet said. He looked to Montparnasse and Brujon to see what they were going to do next.

Brujon smiled evilly, "Call."

Montparnasse placed down his cards with the flick of his wrist, letting them all spread out in front of him. "Two aces, queen high," he said rather proudly.

Brujon scoffed and spread out his hand. "Royal flush."

Montparnasse's face fell expressionless before he exploded. "Dammit!" he shouted, pushing the table away from him.

Brujon cackled with laughter, nearly doubling over out of his chair. "Well, go ahead and call her, Montparnasse."

He could only respond by sighing deeply as he composed himself. Montparnasse wiped a hand over his face and stood up from his chair.

"Oh and Montparnasse," Brujon chuckled. "The rules have changed since I won."

Montparnasse stared daggers at him, "What?"

"I want you to use your belt," he said with a nod to it.

His fists clenched together tightly at his sides before he stalked away. Quickly, the boys stood to their feet and eagerly followed him into the living room.

Montparnasse stood, taking a deep breath. "Éponine!" he called once and only once.

In only a brief moment's time, Éponine emerged from the bedroom and walked down the hallway into the living room. "What?" she asked only to be greeted by the wicked smiles of the men before her. But her husband stood resolute and she knew immediately that something was off.

She approached him cautiously but he held a hand up to stop her. "Face the wall, 'Ponine," he commanded. She gave him a skeptical look but she did as he said and hesitantly turned her back to him. "Take off your shirt," was the next command. She turned her head around with wide eyes only to see the chuckles from the boys. "Do it!" Montparnasse snapped, noting her hesitation. Éponine turned away from them and carefully lifted her shirt over her head leaving her in her bra and exposing her bruised abdomen. She dropped the shirt to the floor beside her with a gentle whoosh. "Now get on your knees."

"I don't un - "

"Just do it," he snapped, exasperated.

So Éponine bit her lip as she did just as he said. In the end, she always did what he said. Her fingers fidgeted by her side, not knowing what was coming but waiting in anxious anticipation for it. As she heard the clink of the unlatching of a belt, her stomach dropped. She could feel the water pooling in her eyes just as she could feel her heart thundering like a million galloping horses.

She shut her eyes and waited.

Montparnasse held the belt in his hands, his fingers tightening around it with each passing second. Slowly, he folded the belt in half, gripping the ends of it and stroking the loop end with his other hand. His heart was racing as he stared at the back of Éponine. Her bare skin was beautiful, so delicate and pure. He looked back at the belt in his hands and then stole a glance at his friends. They gave him encouraging looks, waiting on tender hooks for him to actually do it. Montparnasse took a bold step forward.

The silence filled the room, coating them in tension. It hung there for ages before it was banished by the crack of the belt against skin.

Éponine cried out, falling onto her hands against the floor. The pain was unbearable. It is one thing to write about pain, where the reader is safe from actually feeling it, but to actually feel the pain is indescribable. There are no words that can actually measure the ache the swells on the skin long after the initial hit is over, the stinging that radiates over her back while the heat gathers on her skin, and the hurt of knowing it was caused by the one person she loved the most.

Montparnasse looked down at her as she lied defenseless on the floor. He never realized until that moment how that one piece of leather in his hands could cause this amount of pain, how it could instill so much fear, and how powerful it could make him feel. The strength coursed through his veins, he never felt so alive with the blood pumping in his ears and his heart hammering in his chest. But the weird thing was that he liked it. A wicked grin crossed his once stone face.

Brujon was the first one to break the silence with his abrupt guffaw after his previous shocked expression. Montparnasse looked back at him with that devilish smile on his face. The boys could only smile back at him, except for Babet who stood with his lips pressed in a thin line.

As Éponine pushed on her hands to sit herself back up, with the tears threatening to spill over at any moment, she wasn't expecting the second lashing. She fell back onto the floor, her hands giving way as her face collided with the wood.

"Alright," Babet stated, placing a hand on Montparnasse's chest to hold him back. "I think that's enough." He used most of his strength to push Montparnasse back a step.

"Don't be a kill-joy, Babet!" Brujon taunted.

Babet let go of Montparnasse's chest. "I don't hit women," he said, impassive.

"Ain't ya glad then that yer not the one hittin' 'er?" Claquesous quipped.

But Éponine could barely register anything they were saying. Her thoughts flew all over the place and the main thing she focused on was not crying in front of them. She would not let them see her cry, and she would not give them the satisfaction. She laid there for a moment, letting the cold floor cool the skin on her burning cheek. She took in a shallow breath, afraid to try and get up again, afraid to face the group of men and afraid to see her husband's face.

She was completely terrified. But against her better judgement, she slowly sat up and rested on her shins for a moment. If a third lashing were to be given, it would've come by now so she hoped she was safe. Her head teetered on her shoulders, her whole body seemed to scream in pain. She felt as if she could pass out right now and she wondered that if she did maybe they would actually feel sorry for her and show her pity. But she didn't want to find out.

She stood to her feet and bolted for the bedroom.

"Grab her!" Brujon yelled worriedly.

Montparnasse was right behind her as she made it to the bedroom door. She burst open the door as he grabbed her forearm in his large hand. "Éponine," he stated deadly calm.

She whipped her head around to look at him with fresh tears swelling in her eyes. But all she could do was pull against him, hoping he would relent and just let her be. She was able to pull herself over the threshold of the door but he still held her arm with brute force. Éponine gripped the door and pushed it forward letting it close against his arm. He unwillingly let go of her and she fell to the ground.

Éponine scrambled to her feet as Montparnasse stalked into the bedroom. Her heart dropped in fear as he approached her. But she was paralyzed with fright. He came right up to her, grabbing her by her wrists, neither hard nor soft. "Éponine," he said again calmly.

By this time, the tears poured from her eyes. "Why?" she croaked. "I didn't do anything. Why would you do this to me?"

He gave her wrists a slight shake. "I-It was a bet. The guys...wanted to see...And I lost the hand..."

"So you bet me?" she whimpered.

"I-I...they wanted to watch you touch yourself..." Her eyes shut tightly as the tears cascaded down her cheeks. "I didn't - I wouldn't..." he choked out, watching her cry. Her muscles were too weak to even pull against him now.

Her eyes opened with new found anger. "You could've given them the iPad, or the TV, or-or...or the damn house! But me? Why me?"

"'Ponine...I-I'm..." He shook his head letting the words die out. He couldn't say it. He couldn't say those two words. But he pulled Éponine closer and wrapped her arms around his torso as he held her firmly.

She cried out loudly, letting every loud sob escape her as she shook violently. Montparnasse didn't understand it. When he hit her, he didn't feel anything but now his heart felt like it would explode. He just stood there holding her tightly while he rested his cheek on top of her head. His eyes began to ache and he felt as though he could shed a tear as well. With every sob, he just held her tighter, hoping his action would make the pain in his heart hurt a little less.

Once her sobs quieted down, he scooped her up and placed her gently on the bed over the covers. He stroked her hair back and kissed her forehead, wishing this would finally be the last of her sobs. "Just put on your pajamas and climb into bed, I'll be right back," he whispered into her ear. She just nodded as he silently escaped out of the room.

But on his way out, he made sure to grab the cordless phone from it's holder on the nightstand. He had to. It was just a precaution.

Wordlessly, Montparnasse sent the boys home. The night was officially over now. After a few minutes, Montparnasse wandered back into the bedroom with a bagful of ice only to find Éponine asleep.

He realized she never changed her clothes, but she fell asleep in the very position he left her in. He climbed onto the bed, careful not to disturb her too much. He gazed over her exposed skin as she laid on her right side, showing off the nasty purple bruise right under her ribs. He wondered for a moment where she had gotten that, but he bet he probably did it to her.

Montparnasse gently reached over and touched the sharp blood red line on her cheek. He felt his heart sink a little with remorse as he gazed about her body. On close inspection, her skin was not pure, in fact, it was littered with small scars and bruises from over the years. He could tell which ones were from him and which were from her father. The top of her shoulder, held a wide circular scar and he remembered giving that one to her in his moment of ecstasy not too long ago. The more he looked at her, he couldn't help the ache that swirled in his gut. What was that strange feeling? But that was it! He suddenly realized, it was guilt.

But he shook his head, guilt is for the powerless. Everything Éponine received was because she deserved it. She had always been that snide and cheeky child, she never knew when to hold her tongue and she knew just how to make people mad. But for the past year, she had finally learned how to be good, she learned to keep quiet and speak only when spoken too. Recently, though, she had started to act up again. For some reason she started to get the idea she could talk back to him again. And that angered him.

But looking at her the swollen red line that was beginning to form on her back, he knew she did nothing to receive the belt. Montparnasse gently touched the bare skin of her shoulder and pushed her face down flat onto the bed. He took his hand and gently stroked her hair while he placed the bag of ice over her back. A sigh escaped his lips as he shifted the blankets around to cover her and make her more comfortable. All the while, his fingers never stopped caressing her skin. He just laid down beside her, staring at the back of her head.

His mind wouldn't stop replaying the events that had just happened. He obviously felt awful for what he did to Éponine. Yet, he couldn't deny the power he felt when he used the belt against her. It was a strange new feeling, one that didn't matter if she did wrong or not. It was a feeling that secured his authority over her. The feeling justified his actions and he loved every bit of it. And those feelings began to drive out those other feelings of guilt.

Soon, his thoughts began to remind him of the old mantra from the bible. It reminded him why he should not feel bad about the things he did to Éponine. And before he knew it, he was reciting those words in her ear as she slept, "I do not permit a woman to teach or to exercise authority over a man, but she is to remain silent." *


* 1 Timothy 2:12


A/N: So, if you still want to read this story after everything you just read, I thank you from the bottom of my heart. Really, please let me know how this chapter was. I know that Montparnasse is a dick..that much is clear, but from the psychological side of things, I hope I was able to capture his internal struggle and show what is happening with him inside.

Again, thank you for reading! You seriously are THE best!