Page 24 of Only For Your Touch
Chapter Eight
“Carmine Salvaggi.”
Corrine rose from her chair in the visitors’ waiting room of the Suffolk County Jail. Her legs trembled as she strode toward the guard who’d just announced her father’s name. God, her stomach churned along with her shaking knees. This was her father, for god’s sake. Not a stranger.
Well, not technically.
Inhaling a deep breath, she entered the visiting room. And when a tall man with thick salt-and-pepper hair, wide, straight shoulders, and a football player’s build stood up, she released it. The wave of relief propelling the air from her lungs left her weak, almost lightheaded.
Yes, he might be in a scrubs-like uniform that was the drabbest shade of blue imaginable. And he might have a little more salt than pepper since the last time she’d seen him. But he was still her father. Handsome. Strong.
Love, anger, grief, confusion—they all swirled and churned together in a muddy mixture. She’d come to the jail not knowing what to expect. Maybe that being imprisoned had changed him into a shadow of his former self. Part of her had dreaded seeing that. But now, the other half of her simmered with anger that he still looked so normal. As if all the hell he’d brought down on their family hadn’t affected him much, while the rest of them wore the added facial lines, extra or lost pounds, and the pale pallor that was a result of little to no sleep. That part sneered that he should at least wear some of his crimes on his face.
And underneath it all, there was still the love of the little girl who used to adore running to her father and being swept up in his arms.
God, she was a conflicted, confused mess.
Her feet carried her across the room before the rest of her was ready, and in seconds, she stood before Carmine Salvaggi—her father and an accused crime boss.
“Hi, Dad,” she murmured.
“Honey.” A gentle smile lit his face, and he spread his arms wide. She stepped into him, and those strong arms closed around her, holding her in a tight embrace. A tight, familiar embrace. So damn familiar, tears stung her eyes. “God, I’ve missed you,” he whispered into her hair.
“I’ve missed you, too.” And she had. No matter her anger and sense of betrayal, she’d missed his voice, his laughter, his presence, even the scent of his aftershave.
“Sit down, sit down.” He released her and waved her to one of the backless seats attached to the table. “Your mother didn’t tell me you were coming to see me.”
“She doesn’t know I’m here,” she admitted, her hands in her lap, fingers twisting together. She’d never been this nervous around him. Then again, she’d never been in a jail before today either. “I needed to come without everyone else.”
He sighed, setting his folded hands on top of the table and studying her. After a long moment, he murmured, “You’re angry with me.”
Her first instinct was to deny, to assure him she was fine,theywere fine. But instead, she nodded. “Yes, Dad. Very. And I hate that I am.”
“You should be angry, Corrine,” he said, weariness lacing his tone. “I’ve failed you, your mom, your brothers. It’s my job to protect you, provide for you, and I’m not there. It kills me that I’m not with you, doing what I promised from the day I married your mother as well as the day each of you were born.”
“You lied to me.” Her voice cracked. “All my life you lied to me. And that hurts me just as much as everything else that’s coming out. I’ve found myself questioning everything you’ve ever told me. It’s hard for me to trust anymore because the one person who was always the most solid in my life turned out to be a stranger. Who hid an entire different life from me.” Her fingers curled into fists on her lap. “And I feel so stupid because I’m the only one who didn’t know. Mom, Gianni, and Marco… You trusted them with the truth but not me.”
The tears that had just been a threat until that instant spilled over and rolled down her cheeks. She swiped at them, resenting them because they made her appear weak. But then she looked across the table and saw the same moisture dampening her father’s eyes. The only time she’d seen her father cry had been when his mother died when Corrine was ten years old. And now for her. Because he’d caused her pain. Unlike her tears, his didn’t fall, but his gaze glistened, and the sight stunned her.
“I’m sorry, Corrine,” he said. “I know I disappointed you, betrayed you. I wanted more for all of you. Better. But I couldn’t hide the truth from your brothers; they discovered it early on and decided it was what they wanted. And I didn’t deny them. But you…you’re my only daughter and too pure for this life. I was determined you would have better, and my world would never touch you. It had nothing to do with my trusting your brothers more. I’m sorry that I hurt you.” He turned his hand over, his palm up, extended toward her. “Please forgive me.”
Sasha’s words echoed in her ears.You can hate his actions and still love him. And she reached for him. Covered his hand with hers. And held on.
A weight tumbled off her shoulders, and for the first time in weeks, since the shit had hit the fan, she could breathe easier.
“I love you, Dad. Whatever comes, I love you.”
“Thank you,” he rasped. “One of my biggest fears isn’t spending years in this place. It’s losing your love and respect.”
The murmurs of conversation surrounded them, but they might as well have been locked in a bubble; it was just them.
“Now”—he squeezed her hand—“tell me about what’s been going on with you.”
“Funny you should ask. There’s something I need your help with.” Then she told him about Lick and Sasha—leaving out the parts having to do with hot sex—and ending with Gianni and Marco’s visit to him. “Dad, he and his friends left the mob to build something for themselves. Something they can call their own. And Sasha Merchant made sure no harm came to me.”Pleasure. Tons of pleasure, but no harm.Squeezing her fist, she forced her arm to remain at her side. God, just saying his name punched a hole in her chest, but she continued. “I need you to tell Gianni, Marco, and everyone else who would think of threatening their club to leave them alone. For me.”
He silently contemplated her. “Who is this Sasha Merchant to you, Corrine? Someone I need to have come see me?” he asked, arching a dark eyebrow.
“No, Dad.” And it was the truth. As of three days ago Sasha wasn’t anything to her. He’d made sure of that by sending her away. “He’s just someone who doesn’t deserve to have his business compromised because of a brief association with me. Will you talk to Gianni and Marco?”
