Incarcerated: Letters From Inmate 92510

by Inger Iversen

  He momentarily froze, and then kept walking to the door, ranting, “Got a phone call from the cops. They found my truck at the park, but no bitch in sight. Seems like she walked here and wants to raise hell about the warrant on her ass.” Trent chuckled, and Logan came out of the room to see what he was up to. “Crazy bitch!” He screamed as he went to unlatch the door.

  Logan ran to him and placed his hand over the latch. He shook his head no; it was more to clean the cobwebs of sleep from his brain, but he’d meant the “no” part, too. “What the hell, man?” He glanced at the pot in Trent’s hands and saw that it was water.

  “It’s three a.m. and that psycho ass bitch is banging on my windows, tellin’ my neighbors I’m a pig. What the fuck do you mean, ‘what the hell?’” Trent’s voice lowered. “I swear, if she doesn’t leave I’m callin’ the damned cops,” he raised it again at the door, and Logan was sure Trent wanted his ex, Shayla, to hear, “and have them drag her fat ass off to jail.”

  The flurry of curse words hurled at the front door from Shayla had Logan cringing. He wasn’t sure why Trent had called her fat. While Shayla wasn’t thin, she wasn’t fat, and if Logan recalled right—and he did—Trent liked his girls on the plump side.

  He cleared his throat. “How about you let me handle this?” Logan said, regretting the words as soon as they’d left his mouth. He didn’t want to get involved, but wanted to go back to sleep, and if Trent doused Shayla with water, that’d never happen.

  Trent sobered up a bit and lowered his hand from the latch. “Tell her to get the fuck out of here,” he said. Turning his back to Logan, he headed back to his bedroom, and placed the pot on the floor outside of his door.

  Logan unlatched the door and slowly opened it. “Shay, you out there?” he called. She was probably waiting around the corner with a rock in hand, ready to pelt Trent in the skull first chance she got.

  “Logan? That you?” Shayla called in an awestruck tone.

  “Yeah, Shay, it’s me.” Logan opened the door further. “Can I come out there without getting my ass kicked?” he asked, and wasn’t entirely sure if he were joking or not. He’d never called Shay a crazy bitch like Trent had, but he’d thought it on a regular basis.

  Her girlish giggle belied her crazy ass ways. “Yes, Logan. Get your ass out here. It’s been too damned long.”

  Logan carefully pushed the door open and eyed her. He placed a sexy smile on his face to hopefully discourage her from bum rushing the door. “Hey.” He opened it further to make room for his big body, ducking his head as he stepped outside.

  She was standing on the porch with her hands on her hips. Logan looked at her face to see ruby red lips in a smile and her long, blonde hair in a braid over her shoulder. He thought back to when he’d first met her, and compared her to a Coca Cola bottle. She had a full chest, hips, and ass. She was sexy as hell, and Logan didn’t have a hard time understanding why Trent had put up with her shit for so long.

  Shayla’s eyes widened and she gave him a once over. “Shit, Logan. When’d you get so damned big?” She moved closer and placed a hand on his bicep.

  Logan glanced down, just then realizing that he hadn’t put a shirt on.

  Shayla squeezed and caressed his arm. “And all of these new tattoos. I don’t remember seeing these on you before you went away.”

  He didn’t know what she was talking about; he’d had the same ones when he left as he did now. Logan moved away. “I’ve always had these, but let’s talk about what we can do to get all this settled.” He softened his voice. “Shay, I’m tired and I need to sleep.”

  Shayla batted her eyes playfully. “Logan, from where I’m standing you don’t need any beauty sleep.”

  Before Logan could speak or even push her away, Trent burst through the door.

  “You damn stupid slut!” He barged past Logan. “See? This is why I can’t stand you. Logan doesn’t want your slutty ass,” Trent growled. He turned to Logan. “I got this, brother.” Patting him on the back, he took Shayla’s arm and guided her away from the house.

  Logan looked to a seething Shayla, and realized there was nothing he could do to help and he really didn’t want to. What he wanted to do was call Katie. She was an hour ahead him, but he still needed to hear her voice. Logan went inside and picked up the phone. He knew Trent had long distance on his plan, so he dialed Katie’s number and waited.

  Her sleepy voice made him long for her. “Hello?”

  “Hey, baby.” Logan heard the rustling of sheets as she shifted on the bed.

  Unease filled her voice. “What’s wrong, baby? Why are you calling so late or early or whatever?”

  Logan felt like an ass for making her worry. “Nothing, I just needed to hear your voice and tell you how much I missed you,” he said honestly.

  Her voice lightened. “You are such a softie. My big two hundred and twenty pound bear is missing his baby, huh?”

  He sure as shit was, although he wouldn’t admit it to anyone else. Katie made him feel like his soft side was her favorite side, unless they were in bed. He smiled at the thought. “Yeah, sorry I woke you.”

  Her voice held a hint of annoyance as she said, “You should be sorry you didn’t call to let me know you’d arrived in one piece!”

  “Babe, I’m sorry, but I got to talking with Trent. Then some of the boys came over and we drank a little.” Logan didn’t explain what happened because Katie demanded it, but because he was truly sorry that he’d made her worry.

  “Okay, but you’ll have to make it up to me when you come home.” The word home sent heat up his back. He wanted to think of Vermont with her as his home, a place he was welcome and a place where he’d keep his woman safe and happy.

  “Oh, I will.” The front door opened and Trent stormed in. Logan glanced up and saw his face was contorted in anger, and if he were any other man, he’d be worried about Shay’s safety.

  “That bitch wants to stay the night. Can you believe that?” Trent sounded outraged, but disappeared down the hallway . . . only to come back with an armful of sheets and a pillow. He threw it on the couch by Logan. “Bitch thinks she can lick my dick and flick my balls and all is forgiven.” He headed to the door. “Hell no! She burned her bridge when she stole my girl.” He slammed the door on his way out.

  “Uh . . . so I guess that was Trent?” Katie asked.

  “Yeah, that was him.” Logan went silent.

  “Sounds . . . charming,” Katie said sardonically. “So, did I hear that right? His girl stole his girl?”

  He chuckled. “The first girl, Shayla, stole his truck, his other girl.” Katie’s silence, and then laughter, made him laugh as well. “Yep, she stole it and now he’s ready to dump her.” Logan didn’t think that’d happen. She’d come in and weasel her way back into his life like she always did.

  “And now she wants to, and I quote, ‘lick his dick and flick his balls?’” Katie clarified.

  Logan burst into laughter. Hearing his woman repeat the words made him forget the turbulent relationship between Trent and Shayla, and smile at their own semi stress-free relationship.

  Katie lowered her voice into a sexy whisper that had Logan’s dick twitching. “Baby, if I licked your dick and flicked your balls, would all be forgiven?”

  Without hesitation Logan said, “Hell yes.”

  Instantly, Katie burst into a fit of giggles.

  Shayla and Trent’s voices were at the front door, and Logan didn’t want Katie to hear the crap he was sure would come from her mouth. “Baby, I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”

  Disappointment flooded her tone. “Okay. Bye, baby.”

  More than anything, he wanted to tell her exactly how he wanted her to do the things she had just said she’d do, but as the doorknob turned. Instead, he said, “Love you, baby.”

  Hanging up the phone, Logan stood and adjusted his crotch as he headed back to the bedroom. Trent and Shayla’s voices followed him down the hall, and he shut his door. He didn’t think he’d be
able to sleep even if they were quiet.

  The thought of Katie home alone, in bed—coupled with her sexy words—had him hard and aching for her touch. After turning the lock for privacy, Logan lay back down on the bed and shoved a hand under his basketball shorts, grasping his dick. With his other hand, he pulled the shorts down just beneath his balls.

  Logan had masturbated a few times in prison, but the lack of privacy had taken away the urge, and oftentimes left him with a case of blue balls. But not tonight. Licking his hand, he rubbed the moisture on his shaft and started to pump hard. He worked his cock over, sliding up and down, again and again, until his breaths came in ragged pants and his hips rose from the cot.

  Closing his eyes, he thought of Katie in those tiny black panties she loved to wear. Her skin had been so warm when he pulled those panties off and nestled between her legs. Logan could almost taste her and smell her sweet scent. Using his other hand, he pinched his nipple a couple times, before traveling downward to tug his sac.

  A zing of pleasure raced up his spine and caused his ass to clench. Logan was close, and never had he wanted a feeling to last forever more than he did now, imagining his baby’s warm body engulfing his shaft, her tight sheath stretching over his skin and her soft moans in his ear.

  Logan let out a gruff moan as warm liquid coated his hand, slickening his grasp. With another few pumps, his body jerked and thick jets of come shot all over his lower abdomen. Heart pounding, he fought to catch his breath. Again and again he pumped until his body shook and he’d gone dry.

  Looking at his spent cock, Logan vowed the first thing he would do when he got home was show Katie how very much he’d missed her.

  Katie was bored . . . more like bored as hell. With Logan gone, her book finished, her father barely speaking to her, and Teal’s apology was neither desired nor required, she didn’t have a damned thing to do with herself. It was May, the sun was shining and the birds were chirping while Katie sat in her house, counting the days until Logan’s return. She felt pathetic, and at this point she was. Katie stood and stretched her limbs. She didn’t need a man to keep her busy, although she loved how Logan kept her busy. Katie blushed at the thought.

  “Maybe I’ll get my hair done,” she said to the empty room. Katie patted her head. She didn’t need anything done to it, so she skipped that idea. Her stomach growled, and at that, she decided to go to Mel’s.

  Normally, she’d meet her father there for lunch, and the urge to call him hit her like a freight train in the chest. Katie almost sat back down, but the thought of missing Logan and moping around the house was too much. She headed toward the door and grabbed her phone, keys, and a light jacket.

  In the car, Katie turned on the radio and headed to the bistro. Her stomach growled again, and she tried to remember the last full meal she’d had. As an author, oftentimes she’d snack the entire day as she spent hours in front of her laptop. Pecking on snacks from chips to dried fruit kept her need for a full meal at bay, adding hours of more writing time to her schedule. It was an unhealthy, silly habit, but it worked. Minutes later, Katie pulled into the bistro and parked. Her mind on food, and food only, Katie tunnel-visioned it to a table inside and sat down.

  “Katie?” her father’s voice called. She glanced up quickly to see her father one table over.

  “Dad?”

  He narrowed his eyes in what looked like confusion. “Forget me already?” he asked with a smile. Katie’s heart melted and she stood, heading toward her father’s table.

  “No, I haven’t.” She sat down in front of him.

  His eyes brightened. “Good! Join me for lunch, please.”

  Katie looked around and signaled a waitress. She wasn’t sure if she was waiting tables in the section she was sitting in, but she didn’t care. The waitress came over, pen and pad ready.

  “Turkey club with asiago cheese and a water please.” She glanced at her father for his order.

  “Club sandwich and a Caesar salad, please.”

  She and her dad never got menus. Even though it seemed the servers changed week to week, the food and its quality remained the same, and for that she was grateful.

  “When were you going to call me back?” Katie asked. She’d called her father twice, and his secretary had said he was in meetings. Her father wasn’t one to use avoidance as a tactic, so she believed he was truly busy at work.

  “When I had a chance to break away,” he answered.

  Katie looked around. “This seems like you’ve broken away.” She pinned him with an icy glare. “You’ve never avoided me before, but it seems like times have changed.” Katie was hurt and confused.

  “I’m sorry, Katie. I didn’t know that I’d moved, changed my cell number, or made myself totally unreachable.” He retorted.

  Duly chastised, Katie backed down. She didn’t want to admit it, but she hadn’t tried to reach her father as hard as she could have. “Sorry, I miss you.”

  Her dad huffed. “You are the one who has isolated yourself in that house with that man, so if you miss me, it’s of your own accord. You know where I am, Katie.” He looked away from her. “This is ridiculous,” he murmured.

  “Excuse me? What is ridiculous?”

  He turned back to her with his own cold scowl. “This isolation you want to blame on the world when it’s your own fault. You want me to treat you like an adult, but you act like a petulant child when you don’t get your way.”

  Katie wasn’t sure whether to be offended or angry, so she opted for both. “Petulant?” She shook her head in disbelief. “I don’t even know how to respond to that.” Heartbroken, she wanted to leave, wanted to get up and pretend that this day never happened, but that solved nothing and she couldn’t leave it this way.

  “Dad,” his eyes softened at the word, “I need you to give Logan a chance. Let him screw up before you judge him.” Katie was only asking her father to do what he’d taught her to do. “I love him.”

  “Oh, Katie.” Her father seemed to be at his wits end, and Katie couldn’t blame him. He reached past his ice water and took her hand in hers.

  Tears forming and fleeing from her eyes, she repeated her words and poured every bit of truth into them. “Please, Dad. Just give us a chance.” Her dad caressed her fingers and pulled her hand to his lips for a sweet kiss.

  Releasing her, he reached and ran his hands through her hair, ruffling the bone straight locks. “If he—I swear.”

  Katie smiled. He was softening.

  “I can’t guarantee a damned thing, but, baby girl, I love you and losing you would kill me.” Her dad’s eyes glistened.

  She felt her heart break for what she was putting him through. However, Katie wouldn’t give up . . . not on Logan, or her father.

  Logan sat at Trent’s computer and stared at his new account balance. His Aunt Elma had left him twenty grand. Combined with Logan’s ten grand, he was sitting in a nice position to start his own shop back in Vermont. He’d called Katie earlier that afternoon to learn she’d personally vouched for him with Howard, and had gotten him a job just doing oil changes until Howard felt comfortable allowing him to do anything else.

  A ruckus from the other room made Logan log out of his account and turn off the screen.

  Shayla entered the room in a pair of shorts and a bikini top, which couldn’t support the weight of her cleavage. “Logan, Trent wants help out on the grill.” She handed him a beer and perched on the edge of the desk beside him. She sat with her legs open and her back bent.

  Logan wished she’d save the show for someone else, but the last thing he wanted to do was call her out and start an argument between her and Trent. He used his keys to pop the cap. “Oh yeah?” he asked, and took a swig.

  Shayla bit her lip and nodded.

  Logan supposed it was meant to be sexy, but it just came off as needy. What kind of woman flirted with her ex’s best friend? “I’m more than positive Trent can handle burning coals and meat all on his own.”

  Shayla lea
ned back even further, and he was surprised she hadn’t fallen over yet. “Good, he can handle that ‘cause I got a question for you.”

  Damn. Please be something reasonable. He could imagine Katie’s reaction to this ludicrous display of flirting. Logan took another sip of the beer. “What’s up?” he asked, trying to sound as casual as possible. He didn’t want her thinking he was flirting with her.

  Shayla lowered her voice and whispered, “The other night, were you and,” she pointed at his lap, “hand-jelina going at it?” With a smirk, she eyed his crotch.

  Logan was too damn old to be ashamed of masturbating. He’d abused his dick on a regular basis as a teen, and was sure as fuck not reluctant to admit to it now. The issue was, it wasn’t Shayla’s business what he did, or didn’t do, to his dick.

  He stood and headed to the door. “Shay . . .” He shook his head. While searching for the right words to set her ass straight, he had paused too long.

  She hopped off the desk, sliding past him and out of the room. “It’s okay, Logan. I heard every bit of it.” She winked before leaving.

  He blew out a frustrated breath. Between Shayla flirting with him and Trent trying to convince him to leave Katie, Logan was planning on shortening his trip. He headed down the hall and out the back door to see Shayla and Trent laughing. Trent’s head popped up when Logan made it to the plastic table and chairs he’d set up earlier.

  “Shayla told me she was ribbing you about beatin’ your meat.” Trent popped her hard on the ass and smiled when she let out what sounded like a delighted squeal. He flipped a burger, and pulled a few pieces of barbeque chicken off the grill.

  Logan eyed Shayla. “Your walls weren’t so thin when I left,” he said. He suspected Shayla had had her ear pressed against the door.