16. Tate
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
TATE
I 've never seen my father act this way before, and it's not helping with my already fucked-up state of mind.
Why is he being so nice to a stranger, and what's with all the compliments he's giving Sian? It's so unlike him. Three or four years ago, he'd have been questioning her and giving her the third degree on betrayal and deceit. Maybe it's his age. At least, that's what I'm putting it down to.
The silence is awkward as fuck. My father's presence commands the room, and if I didn't have so much loyalty and respect for him, it would piss me off. The fact that my men and staff act the same when I enter a room pleases me to no end. My father has handed over his title, and over the years, I've earned that same loyalty, trust, and respect from them as they showed my father. That means I'm a born leader and I was made to do this.
Rick coughs, clearing his throat. “So, what have you been reading today, Mr. Matthews?” Rick asks my father this at least twice a week, and my father gives him the same answer every time.
“It's an old one; you wouldn't know it.” He waves it off and turns his attention back to Sian. “Sian, tell me what you do for a living.”
“Erm, I'm an accountant. Boring, really.” She blushes.
“An accountant, specializing in…” My father's eyes dart to mine.
“I help clients with their taxes throughout the year.”
Great. Just fucking great. Not only have I brought a potential snitch into my home, but I’ve also brought in a woman who could take a peek at our books. My books for the clubs are immaculate; I make sure of it. For the illegal side of the business, we have money moving from different accounts all the time, just to keep it moving and clean, but still… my father will be delighted.
“Interesting. So, you're good with numbers?” he asks.
“I guess you could say that.” There's a long, awkward pause, and Sian glances at the three sets of eyes on her. I see the moment she starts to panic. “I'm not… I would never… your business is your business and I'm not here to…”
My father places a hand on her arm, settling her nerves. “Relax. No one here thinks you're up to anything, right, Tate?” He angles his head in my direction.
I don't know all the facts just yet, but I can't have my father questioning my way of doing things.
I stare straight into the eyes of the woman who is the first to ever turn my head and keep me intrigued yet could be playing me. “If I thought for one second that Sian wasn't who she claims to be, we wouldn't be having this conversation, and the outcome of this evening would be very different.” I drill her with my intense glare, wondering if she knows the meaning behind my words. I’m looking for any tiny chink in her armor, but she doesn’t react.
“Exactly,” my father says, clapping his hands together. “Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a book that's calling me.” He stands. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Sian.”
Sian blushes. “Oh, erm, thank you. Same, Mr. Matthews.”
He tucks his chair in and turns towards Rick and me. “Boys.” With a nod of his head, he retreats from the room.
Only when he's out of sight does anyone speak.
“Well, that was unusual,” Rick says.
“Is that a good or a bad a thing?” Sian asks.
“I'm unsure, but he seemed to like you.” Rick gives her a smile, which confuses the fuck out of me because less than an hour ago, he was telling me how careful I should be around her.
I narrow my eyes at Rick, wondering what he's playing at.
Without even looking at her, I say, “Sian, you're dismissed.” I call Mary, and she appears in seconds. “Show our guest to one of the spare rooms. Her bag is by the front door.”
“Of course. If you follow me, we'll get you settled,” Mary politely tells Sian.
“Goodnight, Tate. Rick.”
“Night, Sian.”
I hear the door shut and get straight to the point with Rick. “What fucking game are you playing?”
“What? I'm not playing games.” He shrugs.
“You told me to keep my distance where she's concerned. What the fuck, man?”
“The difference between us is that I don't look at her like I want to eat her. I see the way you look at her and how she blushes around you.”
“That's bullshit!” I tip the rest of my whiskey down my throat and place the glass down on the table.
“Regardless of whether we can trust her or not, we need her on our side, so being polite instead of staring daggers at her may sway her.”
“I wasn’t giving her daggers.”
I play around with the glass in my hand. He appears to want to say something.
“Just spit it out,” I snap.
“I've never seen you second guess yourself around anyone, but with her, you do. I just don't know why. And I’m not talking about whether to trust her or not. I mean, the attraction between you. You’re scared to get too close to her, aren’t you?”
I can't answer because I have no explanation for it. Sian has buried herself under my skin, unbeknownst to her, and the pull towards her is only getting stronger. I want to say it's only because I feel sorry for her after everything she's gone through the last few days. It would be enough to make the strongest person break, yet she’s the most strong-willed and resilient woman I've ever met. She’s a fighter. A survivor, just like me. The only thing I’m contemplating is letting her in and completely consuming me.
If I let her in, then I have someone to care about, and in my world, that’s a weakness I can’t afford to have. I’m not ready to admit that to myself just yet, let alone Rick.
I tap my fingers against the table. “Do you think we can trust her?”
Rick puffs out a sigh. “With all the shit that's going on around us, I don't know what to believe or who to trust. All I can say is follow your instincts. They haven't served you wrong since, well… you know when.”
I know exactly when. The night I fell for a sick, twisted woman's word that led to our torture.
“Rick, I won't make the same mistake twice. Sian is different. I know she is.”
“That doesn't mean you're not heading down a similar path where she's concerned. But you're the boss. Whatever you say goes, and we all follow, but from the moment you met her, you've been off your game, and that could get us all killed, Sian included. Just know the facts because you do something stupid, or something you later may regret.”
I rub the scruff of my beard. The only person I trust with my life is Rick, so I value his opinion. “Thanks.”
He pats my shoulder, stands, and leaves.
Should I trust Sian?
Or should I be getting ready for a battle?
What the fuck is wrong with me?
My empire is under attack and I'm wallowing in self-pity over a woman. A woman who has the potential to bring it all down.
Well, not anymore. Tomorrow, it's back to business. I need answers.
I bang my fist against the solid wood table and stand abruptly, the chair legs scraping against the tiled floor.
Don't do it, Tate, I tell myself as my legs lead me in the opposite direction to my room. Don’t fucking do it.
It seems I have other ideas about how to end my night.