Tate

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Landing right on the side of my nose, the first punch took me by surprise. I could feel my face instantly swelling, blood trickling down my nostrils. A quick piercing sound whined in my ear. The pain was almost blinding but survival instincts kicked in and I knew I had to act fast, dodging the next big blow with which Weston tried to knock me.

I stepped back, shook off the dizzying effect of getting hammered on the face, and flight-or-fight reflexes awakened. Before I could stop my self, my fist met with the right side of his angular jaw. I was by no means a weightlifter, but what I lacked in bulk, I made up in speed and might. Almost a head taller than me, and much heavier in muscle size, Weston stumbled back. There was little time to cheer on as I met his gaze once he recovered from my upper cut. There was nothing but hatred in those eyes. Raw anger. He was ready to spill blood, mine and with little doubt, he didn't give two shits if he spilled his in the process.

"Shit," I spat out, "Weston, wait, wait."

My hands were already up, either as a sign of surrender or to block. When he came at me again, I couldn't do anything but grab at his arms. Or tried to. A fighter, I was not. Never. My fist landing a punch was pure luck. Weston delivered a gut-wrenching blow to my ribs and another one to my solar plexus. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't see. I roared and tried to defend myself from this brutal attack. My head thudded on the floor and I was pinned to the hardwood with an unstoppable raging bull.

Somewhere far away, I heard Cassidy's voice.
"Weston! No! Get off him!" Her scream. Her shouts and her pleas.

Once I managed to pry one eye open, I saw her rounding her brother's massive body over me, leaned down and began pounding her fists on his shoulders and clawing at his skin. In another blink, Weston's weight eased off me but only for a moment. And in that same instance, I saw his arm stretch out, sending Cass flying across the wood floors.

My father used to say that a man was barely a man if he didn't know how to protect what belonged to him.

The night I found out Cindy was screwing around right under my nose, I'd gotten upset, more from embarrassment rather than the rage people had expected of a man wronged by his wife. Was I surprise? No. I believed then, and even now, I'd known about it all along. Subtlety wasn't Cindy's strength. When I hadn't reacted how she'd thought I would, she got angry, threw things at me I'd dodged. Items that carried shared sentimentalities crashed around me—framed wedding photos, an Italian vase I'd bought her on one of our trips, a little ceramic dish that held our wedding bands. When she had realized she couldn't hurt me with tangible objects, she threw scathing words. Those were harder to dodge, and more incredibly harder to ignore. But I kept my mouth shut and knew it wasn't a battle I cared for. She didn't belong to me more than I belonged to her.

But when Cassidy's body flew and blood trickled down the side of her head, I was a mad man.

"Cassidy!" Strength I didn't know I had poured out of me and I got Weston off my body. In return for every hit, gut punch, and scathing words he threw at me, I hit back. I let hate and anger do their thing. I was out of my mind. He hurt Cassidy. His own sister. My love. Mine.

I yelled and growled and kicked.

In another part of this screwed up moment, other voices joined in the chaos. Hands grabbed at the both of us. Someone tore me away from Weston but I wasn't ready to give up, my legs flailing at every direction. Jason and his father dragged me away from Weston. His other brother, Hunter and another man I didn't know kept Weston from attacking again, despite both our mental and physical states.

"Cass!" I choked out as my gaze from the one eye I could open flew to the corner where her body lay limp. Two women attended at her sides. Struggling to free myself from her father and brother, I called out her name over and over, but I was locked down, my strength failing me. All I could do was watch and hope Cassidy would move and say something.

My whole body was on fire. I was in so much pain I couldn't tell which part hurt more. My knowledge in anatomy flew out the door the moment Weston slammed my head on the floor. Outside on my lawn, Weston roared, trying to pry his brother's hold on him. I was convinced he was ready to kill me. He would've if people hadn't intervened.

My eyesight was cloudy at best, and I could barely hear from both ears. The sharp pang of iron filled my mouth. I'd need surgery. I'd need time to heal. But what I needed most was to see Cassidy get up and move. I wheezed through broken nose. When she finally sat up, adrenaline had finally given up on me and the rest of the world turned into darkness.

The day after I left Cindy, I'd met with Jason.
He was the kind of friend who would never turn his back on a downed man. I'd been the best man at his wedding, and he was Maddy's godfather. We'd forged a friendship that lasted decades, surpassing differences and distance. His family was more mine than my own ever had been.

The next time I came to, his slumped body on the chair beside the hospital bed was the first thing I saw through my one good eye.  Before I could say a word, his head popped up. Every single emotion passed his face. Movement lit my body on fire. My mouth was a desert. I swallowed a thick lump of spit before saying, "Cass."

Jason stood from his spot, filled a plastic cup with water from a jug and walked to my side. "Don't move. Don't talk. Drink this."

I was in no position to argue. Lifting my head off the pillow, I sipped water from the cup, feeling a bit of liquid trickle down my chin.

"Maddy's fine. She's with Marianne and the kids." I watched his jaw tense. "Cass is okay."

I nodded. Perhaps he was right to tell me about my daughter. In retrospect, I should have asked about her first. "Where..." It hurt to talk but I had to know.

"She's resting. You can't see her." Jason shook his head, avoiding my gaze. "You can't see her again, Tate."

"But I..." Despite the pain shooting up my arms as I tried to sit up, I had to protest. "I have to..."

"Haven't you done enough?" he barked out, finally meeting my gaze, but I couldn't read him properly, not with one barely functioning eye. "We'll take care of Maddy while you recover. I'll try my best to make sure Cindy doesn't find out what happened." Once again, he averted his gaze. "I'm here to ask if you'll reconsider pressing charges on my brother. In return, I'll do my all to make sure you get custody of Maddy." I stared right at him and at the look of guilt and panic and pain on his face.

"No charges."

"All right. The cops came. One of your neighbors called the cops." He shook his head again, pinching the bridge of his nose while he continued. "You can't see her again, Tate. It's for the best. Ma's not doing well. She's distraught. Cass needs to heal. She's concussed but she'll be fine. We've sent her away. And no I can't tell you where she is...in fact, I don't know."

I'd been attacked by a two hundred and some mountain of a man, pounded down until I felt bones cracked, but this...this hurt exponentially more. With what little energy I had, I grabbed Jason's arm, and sent him a pleading look.

"This is for the best. Maddy wasn't there. She doesn't know what happened but she's been asking about you. Once you get out of here, she'll see you all wrecked. If I were you, I'd focus on her. Your daughter. Like I said, Cindy doesn't have to know but she's wiley and might find out. I'll be there to help you sort everything out, for Maddy's sake. But...stay away from Cassidy. She's my family. Maddy is yours. Be a man and do what you need to do."

He squeezed my hand that had a grasp on his arm, and placed it on the bed. Then he left, not letting me talk, beg or plea. Not giving me a choice.

It was Maddy, or Cassidy. There really wasn't any other way I could choose. Maddy was my
life.  At this moment, it felt like she was the only one I had.

***

A/N: thank you for your patience!

I'm hoping to give you more updates soon.

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