Degradation (The Kane Trilogy 1) by Stylo Fantome

“No! I didn't mean to! I was ..., upset! I'm sorry!”

“You know his New York offices have a contract with my firm! If she bitches to him about her cunt sister, I could lose everything!”

“Cunt” was a special kind of word to Tate. It was the dirtiest of all words, very taboo. Probably got her the most excited. But on the flip side, it was taboo for a reason. It was very bad; an angry, evil word. In her experience, people who used it comfortably in anger were not very nice people. For most people, it took a lot to whip out the C-word in a fight, and Robert had just dropped it like he was saying “good morning” or something.

“I'll talk to her, I promise. I'll make her promise not to tell him,” Ellie assured him.

“Why would she listen to you!? You're the goddamn devil, as far she is concerned,” Robert replied.

“I'll make her, I promise -,”

His hand crashed across Ellie's face, and Tate gasped, dropping the coffee cups. Her sister was not her friend. If anything, Ellie was an enemy. But she was also a woman. And she was pregnant. And her husband had just backhanded her. He grabbed Ellie's arm and lifted her off the bed, lifting his hand to hit her again.

“HEY!” Tate shouted, bursting through the door. They both turned and stared at her.

“Tatum!” Robert called out jovially, letting go of Ellie. “How was the coffee? Did you -,”

“Get the fuck away from my sister, you piece of shit!” Tate shouted, marching to stand at the foot of the bed.

“Tate, just go away, you don't under-,” Ellie started, holding up a hand.

“Shut up,” Tate and Robert both snapped in unison.

“You are not really a part of this family. Please leave,” Robert asked in a frosty voice. Tate crossed her arms.

“You leave. I'm not going anywhere,” she informed him.

“I am not going to ask you again.”

“You've never hit someone who hits back, have you?”

“Don't push me.”

“Please!” Ellie interrupted, surging to her feet. “Please, just stop! Leave her alone!”

“Excuse me!?” Robert looked shocked, staring down at his wife. Tate was shocked, too.

“Leave her alone! Get out, let me talk to my sister!” Ellie demanded.

He slapped her again, and Tate was on him in a second, no hesitation. He tried to grab her, and she shrieked, throwing a punch. She was pretty sure it landed near his ear. She wasn't exactly a street brawler. He turned away and she climbed onto his back, pulling at his hair and hitting him on the top of the head. Ellie started screaming. Robert spun in a circle, yelling at Tate to get off of him. When it was obvious that she had no intention of doing that, he rammed them back up against the wall. Pain shimmied down Tate's spine and she let him go, falling to her feet. He spun around and slapped her so hard, she was knocked to the ground. She scrambled to get away, backing in to a corner.

He hadn't made it two steps towards her when Jameson was on him, pinning him to the wall. Tate hadn't even noticed Jameson entering the room. He was by far the bigger man, with a much stronger physique – Robert couldn't move. Tate leapt to her feet, breathing hard, a hand pressed to her cheek. Jameson glanced at her.

“Are you okay?” he asked. She nodded.

“I'm fine. He hit her. Hard,” she replied, gesturing to Ellie, who had her face in her hands again.

“What kind of piece of shit hits a woman? A pregnant woman?” Jameson asked in a soft voice, his eyes very cold. He had his forearm pressed against Robert's windpipe and the smaller man squirmed around.

“It's none of your business, she's my wife,” he choked out.

“And Tatum is my business,” Jameson growled, nodding his head at Tate.

“Please, we heard the way you talked to her last night – the slut probably probably liked getting slapped.”

There was no hesitation; Jameson's fist instantly slammed across Robert's jaw, and Robert slumped to the ground. Tate hurried forward, staring down at the unconscious man. She winced; his jaw was probably broken. She finally glanced up at Jameson. He was breathing hard, his hands balled in to fists, and he was staring down at Robert with wild eyes. Tate stepped up close to him and pressed a hand to his chest, sliding it back and forth. The same move she used to calm Ang down. Jameson's eyes moved to hers. Stared at her.

This is not a game anymore.

Jameson left to go find Sanders, who was staying in a guest house. Tatum walked a practically sobbing Ellie back to her own room. They sat on the bed and she rubbed her sister's back, waited for her to calm down.

“How long has it been like this?” Tate whispered.

“Forever. Since we got married. During the honeymoon, he got mad at me, hit me. He had never done that before,” Ellie sniffled.

Six years. Ellie had taken the abuse for six years. For the last six years, Tate had been begging men to push her around and call her dirty names. But never like that, not against her will. She sighed and wrapped her arms around her sister's shoulders – something she never thought she'd do.

“Leave him,” she breathed. Ellie shook her head.

“I can't. I'm pregnant.”

“There are lots of single moms out there.”

“Daddy would be so angry. He picked him out for me.”

“Fuck what Daddy says. Does he know he hits you?”

Silence.