Page 131 of The Dominator

He winced and then shrugged and then started talking fast, too fast. “I didn’t think I’d get away. He stopped bothering me, too. I just hoped that he’d moved on. She didn’t live with me anymore. I let her stay in foster care for her protection, hoping she’d be off Tom’s radar. For all these years he left me alone. But then about three- four months ago, I saw him at a poker game, but a small-time game, like he showed up ‘cuz he tracked me down and he gave me this look and he winked, and I knew I hadn’t seen the last of him. He and I talked for a minute, I tried to make him see I wasn’t a threat. Then your brother turned up out of the blue to tell me the score; that it was time to settle my debt. I kicked myself for not protecting her better, but I asked around and found out Tom was retiring and you were taking over. I heard good things about you. I’m good friends with Marco Savarro’s brother-in-law and he said Marco said good things about you. I knew Marco worked here at your house while Tia was here. I was devastated when he was killed and when I found out that those Mexicans took my daughter. Then I heard you got her back, and I knew that she was safe and it was this huge weight off my mind. The foster dad says she’s wearing your ring and she acts happy. I only ever wanted her safe.”

It didn’t make sense, what he was saying. A Swiss cheese story. And I wasn’t fucking happy about the fact that Mexico seemed to be common knowledge. Who was spreading that around?

“I may have more questions for you,” I said. “I’m gonna go get Tia.”

“Can I go somewhere and smoke, Tommy? This shit has been stressful,” he said. “I need some nicotine before I face my baby girl.”

My jaw clenched at him calling her that.

“Nino’ll take you out back.”

“Are you sure you want to see him? I think he’s tweaking from withdrawals or something.”

We were walking upstairs from the basement together.

“I’m sure. What did he say, though?”

“I’ll fill you in later. I’ll bring you in and then you can be alone with him?” He posed it like a question.

“Can you stay?”

“You want me to stay, I’ll stay.”

I nodded. “Wait. If I say things that don’t sound positive, about how I felt in the beginning with us…”

He shook his head, “It’s okay. I won’t be offended. But I don’t have to be there if you don’t want me to be.”

I didn’t want him to think I was hiding anything, that I had any ulterior motives, so I did want him there. He’d come into the games room, looking frustrated. I’d stood when he walked in and he waited in the doorway and opened his arms and I went right to him and he held me for a minute like he needed the hug. I wanted his support facing my father, too.

We walked into the office and there sat Dad, wearing his work clothes, a blue work jumpsuit with his name embroidered at the breast pocket. He was looking shaky. All the things I’d wanted to ask or say or scream and now here he was, looking pathetically at me with regret in his eyes. It felt so fake.

Tommy shut the door behind himself and motioned for me to sit behind his desk. Dad sat in front of his desk in one of the three chairs facing the desk. Tommy sat on top of the conference table behind him, looking casually out the window.

“Sweetpea,” Dad said to me, about to stand.

I raised my hand to halt him and sat in Tommy’s chair.

“You look good,” he said softly. “So grown up. Remind me so much of your mother.”

I was dressed up a little. I wasn’t sure why I dressed up for this occasion. I was wearing a white pencil skirt and matching bolero jacket with a pink frilly blouse and a pair of nude heels. I had my hair back in a sleek ponytail with the earrings Tommy had given me in Vegas. I was wearing a necklace that had been my mother’s. It was a dainty gold chain with a rose and gold cameo on it. Thankfully the bruise on my throat was now mostly faded and I wasn’t sure it was even noticeable, but Dad’s eyes landed on my throat. I wasn’t sure if it was still visible or if he might be staring at the chain.

His eyes trailed down from my throat to my hand and widened at the sight of my engagement ring.

“Nice rock,” he commented, and it was said almost in a prideful way, like he was taking credit.

It made me feel a little queasy.

“I want some truth from you, Dad.”

He let out a breath. “The truth is that I know I was a lousy father, but I’ve always loved you. You’ve always been the apple of my eye. Tom Ferrano set his sights on you and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it. You don’t know how it is in this world, Tia. The man had power and reach and there was nothing I could do. Your mother grew up in that world and I know she didn’t want it for you, but I just prayed you’d somehow be happy and safe. It looks like you are. I wanna be in your life. I feel like I can finally be in your life now that I’m not looking over my shoulder all the time. I tried to stay away to keep you safer. It didn’t work, and here we are, but maybe it’ll be okay. Maybe now we can move ahead, put all that behind us.”

“You left me to rot in foster homes to protect me?” I was incensed.

“Crenshaws? That big house? That was rotting?”

I didn’t like the snark in his voice, like I’d had it so easy.

“You had no way of knowing where I’d end up and I wasn’t there the whole time. Do you know the stories I’ve heard from some of the girls? Some of them that lived in group homes or who got molested or abused by other foster kids, foster dads? You had no way of knowing I’d be okay. You’d go months without checking on me. And as good as they were to me, they took me because you abandoned me. You. You abandoned your daughter after her mother died and social services paid someone else to do your job, to raise me. Everyone tells me I’m very well-adjusted considering what I’ve been through in my life but Dad, you get zero credit for that. Zero fucking credit.”

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