Corinne

 

I would have given anything to stay in bed late the following morning. It had been a long few days, and I had seldom had the chance for rest, on top of which, my body ached from head to toe, every muscle strained. But it was a delicious ache, one I felt that I had earned and one I relished. It wasn't as if it had been particularly athletic sex, certainly not compared to some of our other sessions. But Asa had made my body twang like a bow-string, he had made every muscle taut with desire, and he had done so for a very long time. There had been many times, especially since I turned eighteen, when I had hated my virginity and was so desperate to lose it that I thought of giving it rashly to anyone who would take it. It was such a relief to find that I had done the right thing, and that by waiting I had allowed myself to find the right person. Boy, was I being rewarded for waiting.

 

Despite the rigors of last night and the plethora of aches and pains in my deliciously ravished body that morning, I still found myself wanting to shower with Asa. My desire for him was as potent as ever. But we had already stretched Porter Crucero's hospitality pretty far. It would be nice to think that he had not heard us last night, but he probably had. Making love in his shower would have definitely crossed the line. Besides, we needed to get moving quickly that morning. The longer we waited, the greater the chance of something happening to tear this tenuous deal apart. So, there was no sleeping in for me.

 

"Morning," said Porter, as Asa and I entered the kitchen. "There's coffee in the pot. Then we should head out."

 

Asa nodded. He too understood how important it was to get moving on this, though if he was worried he did not show it.

 

I poured myself a much-needed coffee and leaned against the counter top, staring out the window to drink it. It was going to be a tough day, one way or the other, and there was no way of knowing how it might end, but the thing that was bothering me most right at that instant (perhaps rather selfishly) was that there seemed no way of getting through the necessities of today without facing my dad at some point, which was not something I was looking forward to.

 

I glanced out of the window, and the blood in my veins turned to ice. Seeing my dad at the station was not something I was looking forward to, but at least it was a controlled environment, and Asa and I would be seeing him in a professional capacity. Seeing him at the station would be a hell of a lot better than, for instance, him turning up here, unannounced. But that was just what he had done. Out of the window, I saw his car pulling up.

 

"Oh no ..." I couldn't think of anything more original to say.

 

"What the hell is he doing here?" Porter asked, seeing his career flash before his eyes.

 

"That's probably not the first question we should be looking to answer," Asa said. "What do we do?"

 

"Hide!" I was panicking.

 

But Porter shook his head. "He'll see the car. It's the one you stole, and he probably knows the plates by heart. We've got to be upfront."

 

I had a feeling that being upfront wasn't going to be as easy as it sounded. That feeling proved correct seconds later when my father crashed through the door.

 

"Where the hell is he?"

 

"Brian ..." Porter began.

 

"I'll deal with you later!" Dad pointed an accusing finger at Porter. Then he saw Asa. He didn't say a word, launching himself at the man who had stolen his little girl. Dad was not a small man, by any means, and he was tough as old boots, but Asa was bigger and stronger. I think in a fair fight, Dad would have been wily enough to get in a few blows and hold his own, but Asa would have taken it. But this was not a fair fight. Asa was not going to hit my dad while I was there, so he simply tried defend himself. My dad, meanwhile, driven by blinding rage, had no such limitations. As Asa dodged a blow, Dad drew his gun and cracked Asa across the forehead with the butt.

 

I screamed as Asa went down. Dad raised his gun again, and I ran forwards, putting myself between the men I loved.

 

"No! Dad! It's not how you think! I'm in love with him, and he isn't what you think, and he's going to help you ..." I babbled on desperately, just hoping I could keep Dad away from Asa long enough for Dad to start thinking clearly again—thinking like a sheriff rather than a hurt father. "He came here to turn himself in. To turn himself in! He's going to help you catch some Mafia guys. Ask Porter! And if he you had said no, then he was going to go to jail without trying to get out of it! He wants to help. He's trying to do the right thing. Ask Porter! And he never hurt me, Dad, he never once hurt me!"

 

Dad's gun hand dropped, and Porter took the opportunity to step in.

 

"It's true, sir. Maybe I should have told you last night when they showed up, but. .. what with him and your daughter, I wasn't sure how you might react. To be honest, sir—and you know how deeply I respect you—I wasn't sure if you could be entirely unbiased where Covert is concerned."

 

Dad's face was unreadable as he spoke. "And what were your plans concerning my daughter?"

 

"We were all going to the precinct this morning," Porter continued. "Once Asa was either an official informant, or in jail, I was going to take Corinne home, so she could talk to you. For what it's worth, sir," Porter spoke a bit more cagily now, "and I know it's not my place, I think this thing between them is genuine. On both sides."

 

Still, Dad's face remained set in stone. "Mafia guys?"

 

"He claims to have information."

 

"And if he doesn't?"

 

"He'll stand trial for selling hooch, stealing that car outside, and whatever else we've got on him."

 

"Which is probably a fraction of what he's done," my dad grunted.

 

"Probably," said Porter. "Where the law is concerned, anyway. But I don't think he's hurt anyone who didn't have it coming."

 

"Maybe."

 

Porter took a little bit of a risk. "You know, he could have had you just then. You dropped your guard when you went for your gun. A street fighter like him, he'd have had you, if he'd wanted you."

 

Dad was silent a while longer. "Rassi?"

 

"Yeah."

 

"Get him on his feet."

 

During this exchange, I had helped Asa up into a sitting position, wrapped some ice in a towel, and had been holding it against his head. Now, I helped Asa up. He was pale, but still strong, and met my father's eye unafraid. Dad returned the stare.

 

"You all right?"

 

"I've had worse," Asa said.

 

"I've given worse," Dad replied, with implicit threat

 

"You've got a good arm.”

 

"I'm guessing you have, too."

 

"In my day."

 

Dad nodded. "You and I are going to have a little talk about some things. In the living room."

 

I tried to walk with Asa, but he stopped me. He could manage by himself, and, clearly, I was no part of this conversation. I watched the two most important men in my life walk out, Dad closing the door behind them.

 

Porter poured himself a cup of coffee. "Well, this is either going to go very bad or very good. Nothing in between."

 

"You think there's a chance of very good?" I was grasping at whatever hope there was on hand.

 

Porter shrugged. "I think stopping your father from beating Asa to death is a definite step in the right direction. I wouldn't have put money on that. Father and daughters, you know?"

 

I wasn't sure that I did. "He's never really taken that active of a role before."

 

"I don't think he was ever really scared before," said Porter. "Your dad doesn't confide in me, or anyone else, really. But, if I had to guess, I'd say that whoever you've been with in the past, he hated them, but never feared them. With Asa, he's torn. On the one hand, he wants a man who'll be with you forever. On the other, that's every father's worst nightmare. He'd rather a man who cared about you than a one-night-stand. On the other hand, it's the one who cares about you who's going to take you away from him. I got chased by a couple of angry fathers when I was younger. They were all angry, but it was the father of the girl I cared about who I thought was about to kill me. No father wants their daughter to be treated like a sex object, but at least those men aren't going to take her away."

 

I listened carefully. I had never really thought about it like that before.

 

"There again," Porter continued, "Whether it's a quick fling, or a lifelong relationship, there are several billion men in the world your father would rather you picked than Asa Covert."

 

"If it wasn't for me, Dad would give Asa the deal," I assessed glumly.

 

"If it wasn't for you, he wouldn't even be here," Porter corrected. "Before last night, I'd have laid money that there wasn't an ounce of good in Asa. You didn't make him good, but you showed us—hell, you showed him—the good that was there all along. That's a bit of something."

 

I smiled. I was more grateful than he could realize to hear that.

 

"Your dad's trying to take the personal out of this," Porter went on. "Which is a tough ask under the circumstances. Hopefully, he'll give Asa the chance to explain why he told your dad to pick you up at the motel and then ran off with you again. Once your dad understands that he had your best interests at heart, I think he'll get down to business. Then, it's up to Asa."

 

"What do you mean?" I asked. I didn't pay much attention to my dad's work.

 

"If he's got the goods on Rassi, then he's home-free," Porter said. "Hell, even if your dad had heard what the two of you were up to last night," I blushed vividly, "if Asa can give us Rassi, then your Dad will throw him a parade."

 

"You really want this guy," I said. It was a pretty dumb thing to say, when I thought about it.

 

"We want him. We want his organization. I'd tell you some of the things we think he's done, but which we've never been able to tie him to, only the thought makes me sick. He is a bad man on a whole other level. But that's why we have to be sure. If we go into this and fail, then your dad and I, and especially Asa, are going to be targets for Rassi and his boys. And the sort of executions they stage aren't the nice polite ones that the state is inviting him to. They take days."

 

I shuddered at the thought. But I was feeling better about Asa's chances. Dad might never have liked him and might like him a whole lot less because I was in love with him, but he believed in serving the community. He was a good sheriff, and the chance to rid his town of someone like Rassi was not one he would turn down.

 

As I thought this, the door re-opened, and Asa came through with Dad behind him. Dad looked from me to Porter, his face as frustratingly unreadable as ever.

 

"All right," he said, finally, "Let's do it."