15. Sian
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
SIAN
I mogen came, just like Tate said she would. She checked my head over from the crash, and thankfully, I didn't need stitches and there was no sign of damage. Apart from a sore head, I should be fine. She quickly checked the carpet burns on my arms and back and also told me she'd have the results of my tests back soon. I didn't ask how she managed to get them rushed through. The less I know, the better. The waiting around is killing me, so if I can find out sooner, that's a positive for me.
Now, I’m helping Mary make dinner. The way she skips around the kitchen at her age has me in awe. She seems to be in her element, cooking and cleaning. I use that to my advantage, hoping she'll let something slip about the man she works for.
“Have you worked for Tate for long?” I cut the vegetables and act genuine.
“Let me see. He was twenty-four when he… That was erm… Now, he's thirty-five. Just over ten years.” She beams.
“Wow, that's a long time.” I return her smile.
“I've been working for the Matthews family most of my life.”
“How so?” I'm genuinely intrigued.
“I worked for Tate’s father before Tate took over the reins.”
“I'm sorry. How long ago did he….” I don't finish before she stops me.
“Oh, no. Senior Matthews is still with us.” She smiles fondly.
“Then why has Tate….”
“Senior Matthews felt the time was right. He's not getting any younger, and he wanted to pass his knowledge on to his son while he still could. And there is no one else better than Tate.”
She speaks so fondly of them; it makes me wonder if she's aware of the company he keeps and the goings-on here. She's been here long enough to know, surely. I've only been around Tate for a short time and I'm fully aware of how corrupted this family is.
“Is Tate’s father still around, or has he retired?” I feel stupid saying that word. Can you retire from that line of work? I'm unsure of what kind of work Tate does. I just know it's dark, dangerous, and against the law.
“He's still very much around. He lets his son run the business while he reads. He's always been fond of a good book.” She shrugs with a chuckle. “I'm sure you'll get to meet him at dinner.”
“Say what now?” I don't mean to be rude, but I don't know how to act around someone like him. I barely know how to act around Tate, though I'm pretty sure throwing insults and swearing at him isn't the way to go.
“He'll be delighted to meet you. I'm sure he'll like to know who Tate has brought to the house.”
“I highly doubt having me around will be the highlight of his evening. If anything, he'll want me gone.”
I think about what I just said. That would be good for me, right? I won’t be a prisoner, and I can figure out my next move.
“You'll be fine. Trust me.” She rubs my arm softly. “Now, help me set the table whilst the vegetables finish cooking and the steaks marinate.” I follow her into the connected dining room. She hands me placemats and cutlery, and I do exactly what she does. She finishes it off with a lovely candle centerpiece.
“There are four places set. Will you be joining us?” I cross my fingers behind my back in the hope that she is.
“Oh, no, child. I don't sit down to eat until dinner is finished, the men have eaten, and the cleaning up is done. There are a lot of mouths to feed on the estate,” she says, like it's the most normal thing.
If not Mary, then who is the other person?
How many armed men does Tate have on the grounds?
I get the answer to my first question when Tate and Rick stomp into the room. I don't miss the glare Tate gives me when I offer him a small smile, unsure of what to do.
“How did she get on with the doc, Mary?” he asks, acting like I'm invisible.
Mary coughs, clearing her throat. “All clear. She gave Sian more painkillers in case her head gets worse from the bang during the crash. Also, she'll have her test results back soon.” She turns and gives me an apologetic look as I blush with embarrassment. “Dinner will be served when your father arrives,” she adds before disappearing through the door, leaving me to fend for myself.
I fidget on the spot, playing with my fingers before I begin biting them to calm my nerves.
I almost jump out of my skin when a voice I don't recognize scolds me. “Don't bite your nails, child. It's a bad habit and you'll end up with no fingers. Then what are you going to bite to relax your nerves?”
I drop them to my sides abruptly and apologize. “Hello, I'm Sian. It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Matthews.”
“Is it?” There's a long pause, and I'm afraid to say anything else. He continues, “From what I've heard, you were forced to come here and have endured some awful situations in the process.” I wasn't expecting him to be so blunt, but then again, I never knew what to expect. “Come here, child.”
I gulp, and on hesitant legs, I slowly close the gap between us. I stop in front of him, afraid of what he may say or do.
“Father, I don't think-” Tate is silenced by his father's hand in the air.
He puts his glasses on the end of his nose. “That's better. Let me get a good look at you.” I stand still as he assesses me from head to toe. Turning my head left and right, he checks the cuts and bruises that still linger there, and the fresh ones from today. “You're pretty banged up, aren't you?”
I nod, unsure of what to say. The evidence is there anyway.
“Don't let what happened to you define who you are. Do you understand me?” A lone tear slides free, and he shocks me when he wipes it away with the pad of his thumb. “And you most certainly do not waste your tears on them. Karma is a beautiful thing. Not as beautiful as you, but still… he'll get what's coming to him one day. My son will make sure of it.” I daren't look at Tate, unsure of how he feels about that now.
“Dinner is served,” Mary announces, bringing a wheeled trolley through with everyone's plates covered with metal lids to keep the heat in.
Tate's father softly pushes my back. “Please sit.” I do as I'm told, afraid to look at the two sets of eyes watching the exchange. “Thank you, Mary. It looks lovely.” The wrinkles in his face crease as he offers Mary a soft smile in thanks.
“You're welcome. Enjoy.”
I wait until everyone else has picked up their cutlery before I touch my own. We eat in silence.
The way Tate’s father greeted me so kindly throws me off, as I never expected it. Maybe these people aren’t so bad after all, but I can’t ignore the tense unspoken words about me being here. My nerves are shot, and I’m unable to finish my food. I've never felt so out of place and awkward. There's clearly tension between Tate and his father, and between Tate and me.
I don’t get where Tate’s coldness towards me has come from. Since I’ve arrived, I haven’t seen or spoken to him. Does he know something I don’t?
Has he finally made up his mind about what to do with me, and that’s causing him to distance himself from me completely?
Am I running out of time?