Incarcerated: Letters From Inmate 92510

by Inger Iversen

  He wasn’t sure how to explain Katie to Trent, so he didn’t. He’d wait and see if it went any further than letters and phone calls, because if it didn’t, then it wasn’t worth mentioning. Regardless, there was something else he wanted to talk to Trent about. “Oh, yeah, I forgot to tell you. Jake came by to see me not too long ago.” Logan moved the receiver to his other ear. He’d been on the phone with Katie for a while, and the right side of his face was starting to hurt.

  Trent snorted. “What’d that asshole lawyer of yours want? You know he’s still pissed at you ‘bout that Dawn situation years back.” Trent snickered. “Can you believe that shit? Years later, he’s still mad cause you fucked some chick he liked.”

  Logan groaned. He couldn’t really stand Jake either, and it’d taken bribing him to get him to represent him in court. Although Logan barely remembered his college days, he did remember the night he’d spent with Dawn. He hadn’t been a virgin, but she’d taught him a few things that’d made him real popular with the ladies later in life.

  “Pshhh . . . man, I know. But he’s good at what he does, and my funds were severely limited at the time.” It was true. When he was arraigned, he couldn’t even afford to make bail. Logan had to sell his truck and a few other things just to keep his account from going in the red.

  “Well, partner. You’re lookin’ good over here. I got you back up to eight grand, so when you get out you ain’t gonna be livin’ in the streets, and you know you have a place here with me.”

  Logan knew he could depend on Trent. “Good, brother.” He was starting to feel better about his release. If anything, he was nervous about getting back out in the world after so many years. He needed to get his business up and running, and all sorts of other shit.

  “As a matter of fact,” Trent’s voice held Logan’s attention, “that sugar-nosed freak owes you ‘bout three hundred. I overpaid him on the last installment. I thought you owed him eight hundred and sixty to pay him off, but it was five hundred and thirty. You want me to call him and tell that crook to add it to your books?”

  He remembered the letter his lawyer had sent asking for the money. “No, I’ll call him now.” Logan didn’t want to because his ear was aching and he had to piss badly, but he would get it done.

  “All right, brother.”

  Trent hung up, and Logan dialed Jake’s number, recorded his name, and waited.

  “Jake McCallister.” The formal greeting grated Logan’s nerves.

  “Put that extra money on my canteen for a calling plan,” Logan demanded.

  “What extra—”

  “Don’t fuck with me, Jake.” Logan wasn’t in the mood. In fact, in Jake’s case he was never in the mood.

  “All right, but who the fuck are you calling that you need that much money? Aren’t you doing that Pen Pal Program?”

  Logan failed to see how that was any of Jake’s damn business, but how the hell had he known?

  At his silence, Jake explained, “I signed you up for consideration. They said you were eligible, and my buddy Graham made sure you got in. You know Graham. He told me when he talked to you about it that you asked for a hot white woman!” Jake let out a wicked laugh. “Oh wait, I see. Is that who you are talking to?”

  Logan hung the phone up. He was pissed at his meddling ass lawyer, but he couldn’t be too pissed . . . Jake’s actions had introduced him to Katie.

  Katie decided she wanted to change her career again. In her mind, she felt a weather woman was where she needed to be. As she stoked the fire she’d started the second the power was lost, she calculated the cost of returning to college.

  In preparation for the long night ahead, she’d already hooked up the cordless phone, put all of her faucets on a slow drip, moved her food to the freezer, and started the fire.

  After calling her father four times, she knew the prison’s power was still up. He had told her they were sending home all nonessential personnel, which meant she could call Teal to come over. However, she hadn’t because she was actually excited for the snowstorm. She was looking forward to Logan’s call. It’d be like spending the night, or at least a few moments with him on a cold, snowy night. Katie hadn’t been held in a man’s arms in years and she longed for that. If she couldn’t have it, she’d settle for Logan’s warm voice and conversation.

  Katie stood and went to her room. Grabbing an afghan and pillow, she brought them into the living room with her. In front of the fire, she’d arranged a cozy setting for two, but sadly enough it’d just be her. A bottle of white wine and chocolates were set away from the fire to keep them chilled, a bit less romantic were the bag of chips and dip. Katie shook her head and placed the afghan and pillow in front of the fireplace. She sat down and poured a glass of wine just as the phone rang.

  The automated voice greeted her with its familiar words. Katie accepted the call and went right into her thoughts. “Logan, I’m switching careers.”

  “What, why?” His voice sounded sleepy, but she’d expected it to. It was Friday, and he’d worked all day; in the kitchen and then cleaning bathrooms.

  She lay back and propped her feet on the coffee table. “Because Atmospheric Scientists, including Meteorologists, have a median annual wage of eighty-nine thousand dollars. And the best part? You don’t even have to be accurate!” She giggled. Yeah, she made well more than that a year, but writing was hard ass work.

  Logan’s grunt sounded as if he agreed. “Yeah, I bet. When I was back home, the weatherman was always saying there’d be rain in the summer, but it’d sprinkle and then be hot as hell. So other than deciding to spend your life’s savings on college again, how was your day, baby?”

  Katie struggled to hold in the sigh wanting to escape her lips. Normally, she hated being called anything other than her name, but with Logan she enjoyed it. It was the rough timbre to his voice and the way he lowered it for only her to hear.

  “Umm, nothing much. Got the manuscript back from the editor, but I’m lazing off that. I lost power a few hours ago and I set up a fire.”

  “Good, keep my baby safe and warm.”

  Katie loved the fact that he hadn’t treated her like an invalid, asking if she was prepared, had a check list, or whatever. No, he just wanted his baby safe and warm. “Am I your baby? Is that what I am to you?” She kept her voice low.

  He hesitated, and that worried her just a little. “What do you want?”

  “You paused.”

  Logan laughed. “I’d hate to have you hang up on me again,” he joked.

  She was sure he knew she would not hang up on him again. Their flirting had so far been harmless, but lately he’d been calling her baby and sweetheart. He’d also ask her how she was feeling, and she knew he’d been insinuating if she needed him in ways a phone call couldn’t satisfy. Still, Katie had to think of reality. How could anything come from what they had? Her father would flip, and Katie and Logan were still practically strangers.

  “Logan,” she paused. Even though she was nervous about the answer she might receive, Katie still needed to know Trent’s thoughts on a “what if” situation. “If you weren’t in prison and you met me and felt the way about me that you feel now, what would happen?” She wanted honesty, she wanted him to want her, but she also wanted her fantasy to match reality.

  There was no hesitation, no reluctance in his tone. “Katie, if I wasn’t such a fuck up and I was out there, I’d ask you out. Forgive me for being blunt, but as beautiful as I know you are, I’d take you out. Then, we’d go home and I’d make love to you all night long. In the morning, I’d want you to stay.”

  Katie swallowed hard. Logan had told her that he was coming up for parole, so there was a true chance that she would get to meet him. “Logan.”

  “Yes, baby?”

  His voice was so deep and gravelly, Katie closed her eyes. “I want you. I want to meet you, but I know I can’t.”

  He heaved a sigh. “Maybe one day, baby. I know you are here in Vermont, and I wouldn’t ask you to co
me to this hell hole and see me, but if you wait just a little bit longer, we can meet. I’m not asking for much more than a chance to see the face of the woman who keeps me sane and grounded in here.” Logan went silent for a moment, and then spoke again. “Katie, can I ask you for something—something I don’t deserve?”

  Her heart thundered in her chest at the possibilities. “Yes.”

  “Be mine. Keep talking to me, and if things go good when I get out, we’ll meet and you can decide how far this will go.” Katie listened to his words, and while they were everything she wanted to hear, she’d feared hearing them as well. Her fantasy and reality seemed so damned far apart.

  He cleared his throat. “Don’t be silent, baby, if you don’t want this—”

  “I do,” she blurted. “I want to try, but I don’t know, Logan. We are still strangers.” And they were. “Not only that, but my life is complicated. My family, too.” She hadn’t told him that her father was the warden, but if she were to expect something more from what they were doing, she’d have to be honest. “Like my dad—” She could hear him shuffle the phone to the other ear.

  “He isn’t going to like it, and I understand that. However, you’re a grown woman, and only you can decide who you date.”

  “Yeah, okay, but first . . .” Sitting up, she braced herself for an onslaught of curses. “We said nothing but the truth from here on out, and if we are planning—” She stopped, not quite sure what they were planning.

  Logan filled in the blank. “To be together and see where shit goes when I get out. And for you to be my woman until then.”

  The biggest smile spread across her face. “Yeah, that. Well, I have to tell you something about my dad.” When he didn’t speak, she continued, “Do you know the name Jan-Erik?” She waited as he thought.

  “Nope, why?”

  “That’s my dad, and he’s the warden at the prison you’re in,” she said in a rush. Better to get it out than to keep it in. “I mean, I should have told you, but I didn’t think it mattered since we weren’t trying this thing we are trying—”

  “Not trying, Katie. As of now, I’m your man and you’re my woman.” His voice was soft, as if trying to calm her worries about her father.

  She let loose a sigh of relief. “Okay, I thought you’d be pissed.”

  “No, I get how this started. I knew your last name sounded familiar. I’m more familiar with assistant warden Jamieson. I should have known the second you told me, but my mind was elsewhere at the moment.”

  Katie grabbed the glass of wine and took a long sip. “Okay, so I’m dating an inmate?” She giggled and sipped more wine. “I’m sitting in my living room, drinking wine and talking to my boyfriend in prison on the phone.” It all seemed surreal and a bit crazy.

  “Baby, I am no boy. I am all man.” Logan’s deep voice echoed his words.

  With another gulp of wine, Katie responded, “Yes, yes you are. Just— I can’t tell my dad, you know? One, I wasn’t supposed to enter the Pen Pal Program; and two, I’m sure he’ll flip his lid.”

  “I know if I was a father and I was in his situation, I’d kick my ass. So yeah, to make sure the rest of my stay here isn’t hell, let’s tell him later.”

  Katie agreed, and with another sip of wine she finished the glass . . . and poured another.

  Logan hadn’t meant to get a woman while he was in jail. If anything, he thought he’d end up with some inmate chaser; one of those women who loved to latch on to a man she thought she could change while he was in prison. Yet, as he listened to a buzzed Katie talk about the things she wanted to do with Logan when he was released—unfortunately nothing naughty was said—he started looking forward to meeting her.

  A small hiccup escaped her lips, and Logan thought about telling her to slow down, but instead he just listened to her. “I think we should go to dinner first, you know?”

  He didn’t, but he let her continue.

  “I mean, like a first date. When you get out.”

  Now he got it. He agreed, but in all honesty, he wasn’t much of a dinner and movie type of man. “Oh yeah?” Logan didn’t have high hopes for what would happen between Katie and himself after he found out who her father was, but he wasn’t giving up just because of Jan-Erik. He liked her, understood her, and actually enjoyed conversations with her.

  “Yes, I mean—”

  The one minute warning sounded.

  “Baby, I’ll call you back in an hour. I need to take a shower and use the bathroom.” He looked around as the room filled up. With the storm coming, he knew that other inmates would want to call friends and family in Vermont.

  “But you just called,” she whined.

  “Yeah, baby,” he said hurriedly so the phone wouldn’t hang up on them. “I know, but I’ll call right back. Don’t fall asleep! I’ll—” The phone disconnected and Logan cursed.

  “My turn, yeah?” another inmate, who was standing a little too close to Logan, asked.

  The underlying threat was there, and although he wanted to sit there longer to teach the motherfucker to wait his turn instead of walking up and invading his space, Logan stood and walked away from the phone, returning to his cell.

  After his shower, Logan picked up an envelope and searched the manila folder holding the meager belongings he was allowed to keep with him. He rifled through the few photos he had of himself, looking for something decent to send to Katie.

  There was one of him and Trent—he was in his prison garb—the first year Logan was locked up, and another of him and his uncle. There was also the one his uncle’s wife had sent him from when he was just a teen. He couldn’t send a picture of him when he was only nineteen years old, but he understood why Aunt Elma had sent it. Flipping it over, he read the back.

  Do your time and come home.

  Miss you,

  Aunt Elma.

  His aunt had taken a bus up to Vermont and stayed throughout his trial. The moment the verdict was read, he heard her weep. The day he was sentenced, he’d heard her weep. And the day Trent had called two years ago to tell him his Aunt Elma had passed away, Logan feared that the whole world could hear him weeping.

  Pushing the picture back into the envelope, Logan removed the one of Trent and him, turned it over, and scribbled his name on the back. Flipping it back over, he realized that she had no clue which one he was, and he be damned if he’d let her fantasize over Trent. He circled his face and pushed it into the new envelope. After he scribbled a short letter, he pushed it in as well.

  On the way to the mail slot, he wondered if Katie would send him a picture as well. In the cells of other inmates, he’d seen pictures of pretty and not so pretty women hanging from their beds or lying on their desks. The thought of having his woman’s face on his pillow did a few things to him. The first was the stir of lust in his pants, but not only that . . . Logan could imagine holding Katie in his arms, her blonde, red, or dark hair splayed over his pillow.

  When he reached the mail slot and pushed the envelope in, he headed to the phone room. Logan didn’t have a preference when it came to hair color, as long as the carpet matched the drapes and it was long enough that in the heat of the moment Logan could pull it without complaint.

  As far as body type, Logan had spent the last fifteen years of his life working out and eating right, so he wanted a woman just as fit and healthy as him. Like every man, a nice ass and perky tits were desired, but not required. When it came to Katie, Logan had fallen for her personality first; he didn’t really have a choice since he couldn’t see her first.

  He had been pleasantly surprised when he’d talked to her . . . her voice was amazing. She spoke so prim and proper, which he attributed to her father, who was probably stern and demanding. He noticed that Katie still worried about her father, which to Logan was odd. She was twenty-five, not five. Then again, maybe she was a daddy’s girl. Logan rounded the corner, and saw that all of the phones were in use, so he sat down to wait. If these men were anything like him on the phone
with their women, he’d be waiting a while.

  Katie snuggled deeper into the covers, pushing her head under the pillow to stop the annoying ringing in her ears. The loud bray continued, and suddenly she remembered that she was waiting for a call from Logan.

  She reached for the phone. “Hello?” It sounded more like a croak, but luckily the automated voice kicked in with its usual statement. Katie sat up and cleared her throat, groaning when her head started to spin. She placed her hand over her head. Pressing one to accept the call, a dizzy and drunk Katie lay back down and waited for Logan’s warm voice to invade her ears.

  “You fell asleep, didn’t you?”

  “Mmhmm.” Yawning, she lifted her head to look at the clock. “You said an hour, baby, it’s been like three.” The digital clock’s battery backup showed the time as eight-thirty.

  His warm chuckle excited her. “I had to shower, and then wait for these fools to get off the phone, but whatever. Call me that again.” His voice held a bit of surprise.

  Why would he be surprised she’d called him baby? Now that they were a couple, she definitely felt comfortable giving him a pet name. Gathering as much pout as she could, she responded, “No, you called too late.”

  Logan chuckled. “Is my baby drunk?”

  Katie glanced at the empty bottle of wine. “I only had one flass mofficer!” Releasing a flurry of giggles, she realized just how drunk she really was. “Holy crap, I am drunk. I’m sorry.” Embarrassed, she threw a hand over her face.

  “What are you sorry for? Baby, you’re old enough to get drunk if you want to. I just wish I was there with you.” Even though she’d been drinking, she could hear the sincerity in his voice.

  Katie placed a hand over her heart. “I wish that, too . . . but at least I have you.” She meant that he was her man, as he’d claimed earlier, but her buzz—no, being drunk—stopped the right words from escaping her lips. Instead, she said, “What I mean is, you and I are a thing. No, wait.”