Chapter 18 #2
She looked up, only slightly offput at the interruption, but her irritation died when she saw the look of panic on his face. ‘Paul? What’s wrong?’
‘Silas Matthews.’
‘Shit.’ Sierra did not need an explanation. Benji’s father had a habit of showing up at Hunt Ranch once every few years. Always drunk. And always to cause a scene. Typically, Benji handled it. But given that he was out with Poppy, Sierra pushed to her feet, asked, ‘Where?’
‘He supposedly wanted to grab lunch at the restaurant, but when Sam recognized him from the eighty-sixed list, she called me. Of course, the moment he saw me, he started shouting and causing a scene, saying it was his constitutional right to eat where he wanted.’ Paul swiped at his brow, sweaty with anxiety.
‘A few guests with kids have already left the restaurant,’ he said bitterly.
Sierra marched to the door, her anger making her brave where typically she would have been cautious facing Silas.
Hunt Ranch had been through enough. They’d already faced one media storm when Nina’s stalker had shot Mav, and although their financials would eventually recover from the ensuing shutdown, rumours of more violence could jeopardize that.
Silas was mean sober, but when he drank – which was most of the time – he was outright dangerous.
Sierra strode down the hallway to the resort lobby, a woman on a mission, and when she entered the restaurant, she was all fire.
Silas Matthews was scum. He had alternately neglected and abused the person she loved most in the world, and somehow Benji had still turned out to be the kindest, most compassionate person she knew. It was about time someone let his father have it.
She saw Silas immediately, a large man who might have been as handsome as his son before a lifetime of alcohol abuse had caught up with him.
Silas had the same blond hair and green eyes as Benji, but his hair was thinning and streaked unevenly with grey, and his eyes were rheumy from the booze.
He was shouting, ‘Get me a goddamn drink!’ at Carlyle, one of their long-time bartenders.
Carlyle, thirty-two and standing at six-one himself, just stood on the other side of the bar and stared at Silas as if the man were a bug on a pile of horseshit. But when he saw Sierra approaching, the bartender switched to alert, ready to jump in if he needed to. He nodded stiffly at her. ‘Boss.’
‘Carlyle, I apologize on behalf of Mr Matthews,’ Sierra said as Silas drunkenly spun around to face her. ‘He was just leaving.’
All eyes were fixed on the scene. Sierra could feel the weight of them burning into her even as a collective silence spread through the restaurant. It was as if everyone were holding their breath, waiting for the explosion.
Silas laughed. ‘If it isn’t the queen herself.’ He affected a crude bow. The gesture might have been more insulting if he hadn’t stumbled forward as he tried to right himself again.
‘Silas, you have exactly one minute to leave my property before I call the police – and we both know the sheriff is well acquainted with your history here.’
Silas puffed out his chest. ‘Can’t a man get a meal anymore?’ he demanded hotly.
‘You’re not welcome here,’ she reminded him.
Silas ignored her. He grinned, and it was bitter and cruel. ‘Where is that good-for-nothing son of mine? Maybe he’ll finally put his bitch in her place for his old man.’
‘Thirty seconds, Silas.’ Sierra turned to Carlyle. ‘The phone, please.’
Carlyle passed her the bar phone without a word, but as soon as it left his hand, he walked around to the front of the bar, clearly not comfortable with the way Silas was inserting himself into Sierra’s space.
The restaurant had stilled.
‘Ten seconds,’ Sierra said. And when Silas made no attempt to move, she started counting, ‘Nine. Eight. Seven—’
Silas flushed red. His fists clenched at his side.
He stepped into Sierra’s space until he was close enough that his rancid breath wafted over her face, making her eyes water.
‘You’re nothing but a whore. My boy is only with you because he likes living the high life,’ he said, his spit flecking onto her face.
Sierra only laughed. Of all the things he could have said to make her feel small, undermining Benji’s love wasn’t one that would work. ‘You don’t know your own son at all.’
Silas raised his hands as if to push her, but Carlyle was faster. He gripped the back of Silas’s neck with one hand, said, ‘And, we’re done.’
Silas thrashed, trying to break out of the younger, stronger man’s steel grip. And in his rage and drunken stupor, he didn’t realize how close Sierra stood.
The back of his hand connected with her face.
Sierra’s head whipped back.
She stumbled.
A collective gasp rang through the restaurant. Several chairs scraped backwards as numerous people in the room prepared to intercede now that things had escalated.
But Carlyle only squeezed Silas’s neck, said, ‘Out we go,’ as he started propelling the drunk towards the door. ‘You can wait outside with the other animals until the cops arrive.’
Sierra sighed. She’d wanted to avoid the police. Not for Silas. He could rot for all she cared. But for Benji, who didn’t deserve the humiliation. And, still, she knew that too many people had witnessed the scene for Silas to walk without consequences. Her guests needed to feel safe.
She placed the call, but because she had grown up with Sheriff Gaffrey’s daughter, Jade, she called him directly and explained what had happened.
He said he was on his way, and as soon as she hung up, one of her event planners, Deb, ran towards her, her eyes filled with concern. ‘Sierra, are you okay?’
‘Yeah. It was an accident.’
‘Maybe, but we both know he would have done it on purpose if he’d had a chance.’
‘It’s over now.’
Deb stepped closer, her eyes scanning the red mark on Sierra’s face. ‘I’ll get you some ice.’ She moved behind the bar to fetch some and tied it in a towel.
Sierra turned to face the restaurant. ‘I’m so sorry for the disruption, folks,’ she said, making sure to keep her voice calm. ‘It won’t happen again.’
Slowly, people started eating again, the only sound the scrape of cutlery on plates and whispered gossiping.
Sierra took the ice from Deb because her face did ache. And then she stepped outside to wait for the cops.
Silas, perhaps finally realizing that he was outmanned and in a heap of shit, slumped against the hitching post outside. He glared at her as she held the ice against her face, but when he spoke, he grumbled, ‘Never meant to hit you.’
Sierra slowly lowered the ice as her temper rose. She met his eyes, looked straight into his soul when she replied, ‘Is that what you said to Benji all those times you used your fists on him?’
Silas didn’t even deny it. ‘Boy needed discipline. Spare the rod, spoil the child.’
‘Keep your scriptures, old man,’ Sierra spat. ‘You’ll need them when I press assault charges.’
Silas paled. ‘It was an accident!’
‘Looked like a backhanded slap to me,’ Carlyle drawled.
‘Lies!’ Silas practically yelled. But when the police cruiser drove up moments later, his panic started leaking through his rage. ‘I’ll leave,’ he promised as the car rolled to a stop. ‘I won’t come back.’ He glanced anxiously behind him.
Sierra stepped closer, and this time it was her who invaded his space. ‘This is the last time you show up on my property,’ she said, her tone cold enough to kill a forest fire. ‘The last time you contact Benji unless he purposefully reaches out to you. Do you understand me?’
‘Yes.’
‘Good.’ When the Sheriff approached, Sierra held up one hand, halting him in his tracks. She leaned forward, put her lips by Silas’s ear, and whispered, ‘Now get the fuck off my land.’
Silas stumbled to where he’d parked his truck, but the Sheriff, Bob, shouted after him. ‘You get in that vehicle, and I’m gonna hit you with a DUI, Silas!’
Silas didn’t listen. He slammed his door and sped out, his rusty truck kicking up dust behind him.
Bob just sighed and tipped his hat in farewell. ‘Sierra.’
‘I appreciate you coming out, Sherrif Gaffrey,’ Sierra said, because calling her childhood best friend’s dad ‘Bob’ still felt odd, even after all this time.
Behind him, Sierra saw Benji running toward her, Poppy in his arms, his eyes wild. ‘Shit,’ she said under her breath.
The Sheriff moved towards his cruiser, but right before he climbed back into his vehicle, he looked back at her.
His hard eyes softened. His voice, when he spoke, was gentle.
‘When you’re feeling up to it, Jade would love to see you, Sierra.
She barely gets out with the baby, and I know she needs the company. ’
Sierra’s throat burned with unexpected guilt.
There’d been a time when she and Jade had been inseparable, a time when they’d been young girls, giggling and whispering at sleepovers, talking about how, one day, they’d be grown-ups with apartments of their own, dreaming about how each of them would find the perfect man – Benji for Sierra and some faceless, (yet hunky) stranger for Jade – and fall in love, get married and raise their children side by side.
Now, Jade was just another person she’d let down, and Sierra was glaringly aware of that when she promised, ‘I’ll make a point of stopping by.’