Trent looked away from the grill and to Shayla. “They aren’t.” Trent eyed her until her smile disappeared. “Logan, you want some slaw?”
He stood and grabbed a plate, wondering how long Trent would put up with Shayla and her crazy ass ways. Either way, he wouldn’t be around long enough to find out. He took his half empty beer bottle and plate to the table to eat.
Trent picked up another plate, but froze mid-action. Logan watched as he turned to Shayla. “Will you go get us some more beers, Shay?” he asked.
Logan was shocked she didn’t put up a bit of a fight. As soon as she left, Trent sat in front of him. Setting his fork down, Logan gave him his full attention.
“You going back to Vermont?”
His answer came quick. “Yes.” Then he chortled. “Why, you planning on coming with me?”
Trent seemed to think over Logan’s question. Logan was both petrified and excited by that scenario. He was positive his friend wouldn’t last more than a few month’s during Vermont’s winter. On top of that, Logan’s black girlfriend would have him thinking Logan was insane, and he was . . . insanely in love.
Standing, Trent went back to the grill. “Nah, I just hope you’re making the right decision.” He plated some food as Shayla came out with the beers. “What time you want me to take you to the airport tomorrow?”
He wasn’t sure whom Trent was talking to, until he looked directly at Logan when he glanced up.
“Huh?” he and Shayla said at the same time. “What are you yapping about?” Logan added.
Trent sat down with a plate and Shayla placed the beers in front of them. “You’ve been distracted.” He shoveled some food in his mouth.
Logan searched his friend’s eyes for anger, but was met with understanding.
“And this bitch,” he pointed his fork toward Shayla, “can’t keep on her pants when it comes to you.” Shayla smacked him on the back of his head and Trent shrugged. “Hell, the truth is the truth.”
And it sure as hell was. Logan would miss Trent, but before he left, he needed to confide in him. He thought to ask Shayla to leave, but he really wasn’t interested in her opinion, nor did he care what she thought about Katie’s race.
Logan placed the fork down. “Her name is Katie.”
Trent nodded. “Nice name.”
“Normal name,” Shayla added, her tone full of jealousy, but Logan ignored it.
He watched Trent as the next words came out of his mouth. “She’s black.”
Shayla laughed, as if he’d told a joke, and he guessed with his past, it’d seem like one. However, neither he nor Trent laughed.
Trent placed his fork down and leaned back. When he spoke, his voice had hardened. “Every now and then a man is gonna want some chocolate, you get my drift? But we don’t go having serious relations with them.”
This was the response Logan figured he’d get.
Shayla came to the table and sat down. “Shut the fuck up, you’re not serious are you?” She sat wide-eyed, her blonde hair moving in the wind as she glanced between Trent and Logan.
“Yeah, Logan. You’re joking, right?” Trent’s voice changed again. “You ain’t fucking thinkin’ about leaving here for no black bitch, are you?”
Logan had the sudden urge to make Trent swallow his words and his teeth, but he sat back and calmed his nerves. “Don’t call her that,” was all that he could utter.
Trent smirked. “What’d prison do to you?” he asked. Slanting his head, he eyed Logan as if he’d grown two heads.
Shayla smacked her lips. “Nah, Logan. That shit ain’t right.” She pushed back from the table and headed into the house.
Still, Trent watched Logan.
“It is what it is,” Logan stated, unsure of what else to say.
“Yeah, it is. Go on to her. I want to say you won’t have a place here to come back to, but here’s what I’ll do . . .” Trent took a long drink from his beer. “When that shit fails, you can come home and I’ll piss the words told you so all over the backyard.”
Logan thought about defending his choice, but what would it matter? He didn’t need Trent to approve. He placed his elbows on the table. “And if it doesn’t come to that? If Katie and I make it work?”
Trent mulled over Logan’s words, but smiled. “It won’t, brother. It won’t.” Trent stood and picked up his plate. “Get yourself a flight for tomorrow. Quicker I get you to Vermont, the faster I get you back here like a dog with his tail between his legs.” Trent walked into the house, and Logan couldn’t help but think that it’d gone too well.
Logan flew back. Minus a few hiccups, he was on his flight and back to Katie. Even though the bus trip was a shitty experience, so was the damned plane. First, Logan’s flight was delayed due to maintenance issues, causing him to miss his connecting flight. He ended up having to wait four hours for the next flight. Then, Logan lost his damn ID in his luggage and almost missed his second flight.
Now, boarded and in his seat, Logan leaned his head back and closed his eyes. Since he was flying Southwestern, there were no assigned seats, but the back hadn’t packed out. He hoped the last few passengers would skip past him and move to another seat. While a few eyed his empty seat with interest, only a small-framed, pale faced, brown-haired girl was brave enough to join him. She didn’t speak, and Logan was glad. She pushed her carry-on under the seat in front of her and opened her book to read.
Logan opened the slider to the window and gazed out. The weather seemed nice enough that he wasn’t worried about it affecting take off, and Logan watched as the baggage handlers carelessly threw luggage on the conveyor leading to the plane. Luckily, he didn’t have anything valuable in there other than an old bottle of Kentucky Whiskey.
“Shit,” he groused.
“You got something important in there?” The girl’s voice pulled his eyes from the window. She was staring in the same direction he was when he cursed.
Logan glanced back and said, “No.” It wasn’t a lie; the whiskey didn’t mean much to him, but he did want to share it with Katie when he got back home. Home. He was starting to enjoy that word.
“You sure?” the girl asked again. Logan looked back at her. She wasn’t a girl, she was a woman . . . just very small and petite with a tattered notebook in her hand, pen in place over the page. She’d already written some words in it, but Logan couldn’t make them out. Her thin limbs and frail-like body probably had men running the other way her whole life, but when Logan looked up at her face, he saw bright eyes and a welcoming smile.
He adjusted himself in the small seat to turn his body toward her. “No, nothing at all. You?” he asked. Making small talk wasn’t his thing, but Logan had loosened up. He’d bought an iPod and headphones in Kentucky, which he could use as a sign that the conversation was over if he needed.
Casually, she said, “My meds are in there, but I won’t need them until tomorrow. My guitar is in there, too.”
His eyes widened. “You sing?” Logan hadn’t meant to make is sound like that, as if he were surprised or something.
She closed the notebook, and lifted it in the air a bit. “Yup, my words, my heart and my soul, are all in this little notebook. I have a gig coming up soon and I’m kinda stuck on this song I’m writing.” Her nose wrinkled in annoyance.
Logan nodded. He couldn’t help her with that. “What’s your name?” he extended in greeting.
“Call me E, and you?”
Logan took her small hand in his and gently shook it. “Logan.”
E’s nose scrunched up and she pulled her hand back. “That was the weakest hand shake I have ever received from a guy your size.”
Logan laughed. “I was trying not to crush your hand.” He peeked down at her long, slim fingers.
“Oh, I see. I look weak to you?” She raised a brow.
Logan wondered if he’d offended her until she cracked a smile.
“Where are you headed, Logan?” She lifted a leg and tucked the notebook under it.
“Home.” Logan loved the way the word sounded and everything it meant. He and Katie were creating a life together and he was itching to get home to her.
E poked him. “Ah, I know that look. You are headed home to your woman, yeah?” He nodded. “Awesome.” Her voice took on a soft tone. E turned back to her notebook and started to write.
Reaching into his pocket, Logan pulled out his headphones. The flight attendant came on the overhead with her announcement, and as the plane pushed backwards, Logan closed his eyes, listening to the attendant list the emergency exits and yadda yadda . . . He was asleep before that plane even took off.
Logan found his bags at the carousel and headed out the double doors. Katie was walking toward him, just as he opened them. At that moment, she looked up and squealed, and took off at a run. He dropped his bags and caught her as she flew into his arms and buried her head into his neck.
While Logan was excited to see Katie, he felt as if he was being watched. In order to not alarm her, he kissed her cheek and casually checked out their surroundings. Logan’s eyes landed on a black man standing not ten feet away from them. He kept his eyes on the man even as Katie pulled away and placed her lips on his.
Katie moved back and reached for his face. “Babe, what’s up?” He looked down at her, and his face must have set off alarms in her head. She appeared panicked and nervous. “What is it?”
Logan closed his eyes and shook his head. “Nothing, baby, that flight messed me up,” he lied. Glancing over at the man again, Logan noticed that he was still staring in their direction. What the fuck was he looking at?
Katie’s eyes still held worry as she took his light carry-on. Grabbing his hand, she started to lead him to the car. “You’re acting odd. Is everything okay back home?” she asked, but Logan wasn’t paying attention. They were walking past the man who had been staring at them . . . no, who was still staring at them and it was pissing him off. Why was this motherfucker eyeing him? Was it ’cause he was white and with a black woman? As they got closer, Logan had it in his mind to ask the man.
As they approached, the man stood and Logan lunged forward. “What the fuck you been staring at?” Logan yelled. His heart beat heavy in his chest; he was used to stares like that leading to fights. No one needed to be staring at him and Katie for so fucking long. The man shrank back, and Katie jumped in front of Logan, her face marred with lines of confusion and then anger.
“What the hell?” she whispered. She turned and was about to go to the man, who had moved so far back Logan wondered how he’d gotten there so quickly. Logan’s arm darted out and grabbed Katie’s, yanking her back to him harder than he’d planned to, which caused her to trip over her feet and land in his chest. Logan moved his hand to grab her again, but he was trying to right her this time.
Katie snatched away from him. Her eyes blazed with anger and her chest rose and fell rapidly. She turned away from him and marched over to the man cowering.
Logan thrust his hand through his hair as Katie spoke to him. He realized he might have overreacted—okay, he did overreact—but who the hell was that man and did she know him? He assumed not as he watched her awkward posture. When she reached out and touched the man soothingly on the shoulder, Logan’s anger exploded again.
“Katie!” Logan bellowed. The man raised his hands in surrender and headed off in the other direction. When she turned around there was fire in her eyes. With each step she took toward him, his anger grew as well. Other passengers had gathered around, eyes on the couple, and as Katie made her approach, Logan’s anger crested.
Her voice quavered, and he could tell that she was on the verge of tears. “Who the fuck do you think you are?” Her body was taut with fury, her eyes tearing in anger or sadness. “I don’t even know what to say.”
Logan stepped forward reaching for her.
“Don’t you even think about hurting me again,” she hissed. The words shocked Logan out of anger.
“Hurt you?” He took a deep breath and stepped back. Her hands were out in front of her, demanding space, and Logan’s brain finally registered what he’d done when he glanced at his fingerprints forming on her skin. “Fuck!” He pushed his fingers through his hair and gritted his teeth. “Who was that guy?” he demanded. Logan still felt as if he needed to defend his actions. “He was staring at us like he fuckin’ wanted to do something.”
However, she was shaking her head and walking away. Logan took a second to catch his breath before he picked up his shit off the ground and followed her to the car. He let her have all of the space she wanted; not just for her benefit, but because he was so pissed he was scared he’d say something he wouldn’t be able to take back. Katie clicked the FOB and popped the trunk. After Logan threw his stuff in the back, he got in the front seat.
It was still chilly outside, and Logan reached up to adjust the heat. Katie kept her eyes on the road, yet he kept his eyes on her. What was she thinking? He thought to ask, but was she even speaking to him? He sat back and watched the road. It was a thirty minute drive from the airport, and Logan thought that time would help him cool down, but all it did was give his anger and insecurities time to grow and fester.
He wondered if the man was a boyfriend from the past, if he was staring at Katie because he wanted her, or was he staring to ask her out? Did he think she needed a black man over Logan’s hillbilly ass? The fact that Katie had gone to him and not stood by her man had pissed him off. He grunted at the thought.
Katie’s eyes left the road and narrowed in question. “What was that?”
Logan rolled his neck, listening as it popped. The tension loved to make a home in his neck and shoulders. “Oh, now you fuckin’ speak?” His tone was sharp and mocking.
He watched as Katie’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. “Fuck you, Logan! Do not act as if I am the one in the wrong here! You did this, and why? I want to know why?”
“Why what? Why did I ask that guy why he was staring at me like he had a fuckin’ issue? I saw his shady ass as soon as we walked out the door, Katie. I stay aware of my surroundings. The better question is why the fuck did you go over there and comfort that man in the first place!” Logan’s voice echoed throughout the car. When he looked at Katie, he saw in her eyes what he’d hoped he’d never see again.
Katie’s grip on the steering wheel tightened even more. Logan’s face changed as his rage grew; it reddened and his jaw clenched. She had a hard time concentrating on the road with him beside her.
As his anger grew, her fear of him grew as well. Her stomach dropped and Katie fought the urge to cry. She wouldn’t show him that weakness, she refused to, and when she got the nerve, she planned to tell him that if he ever touched her that way again, she beat him with a brick. Her arm throbbed from his earlier crushing grip, and her heart and head ached as well. Maybe she had made a mistake.
Katie swallowed nervously. “Did you happen to see the outfit that man was wearing?”
Logan looked at her. His face crumpled in confusion. “What?”
They were about four minutes from her house, and Katie was thinking of dropping Logan off at a hotel and spending the evening alone. She was livid, hurt, and she hated to say it, but a bit afraid. “The black guy.” She glanced over at him. “Did you see that he was wearing a chauffeur’s uniform?” Katie had talked to the man. His uniform had a yellow and black emblem on it, indicating that he worked for Goldman’s chauffeur service. The man was only coming toward Logan because he thought he was his client.
Logan shrugged. “No, I didn’t see that. I was just looking at his beady little eyes.” His clipped tone incensed her even more. Katie pulled up to the house. How was she supposed to tell him she didn’t feel comfortable with him around her tonight? She was amazed by the feeling herself because even when she’d met him fresh out of prison, she’d not once worried about him yelling at her or hurting her the way he did earlier. Logan was out of the car and at the back in seconds, but Katie just sat there. Finally, when he n
oticed that she wasn’t out of the car, he walked around to her window and tapped it.
Katie pushed the button and the window rolled down. She didn’t look at him as he leaned in.
“What now?”
Her anger flared. “He was a chauffeur. He thought you were his client, who happens to be a tattoo artist coming here for a convention, and then driving to Canada.” She finally looked at him. “But all you saw was some black guy looking at you, huh?”
Logan didn’t speak, nor did he look the least bit ashamed of his actions. Katie felt like an idiot. What kind of self-respecting black woman . . . no, what kind of woman would accept these actions from the man she was dating?
“I saw a man—” He paused and stared at her hard, his lips in a grim line.
“Say it, Logan. You saw what?” He stood, pushing away from the door. Katie opened it and got out, walking to the house and listening as Logan followed behind her.
She was searching for the words to tell him to go away when he said, “You want me to change, but it ain’t gonna happen overnight.” There was something in his tone she didn’t like. It sounded like defiance or maybe even denial. She didn’t know, but she didn’t like it. When she got to the door, she pushed the key in and turned.
“Logan—” She was tired. It was like after a long fight and your body finally sagged in exhaustion. “I think you should just—” Her words were cut short as his hand wrapped around her waist and his lips flew to her neck. She wasn’t sure what he was doing, but she reached behind him and threaded her fingers in his soft hair. His rumbling voice sent shivers down her spine. She hated how her body bent to his will. She hated how easily he could turn her brain off yet turn her need for him on.
“I’m sorry, I fucked up. I looked at him and judged him. Baby, I’m sorry,” he whispered against her lips.
Katie tried to pull away, but Logan pushed her in the house and slammed the door behind them. She turned and pressed her back to the wall, trying to keep her balance. His apology wasn’t enough. He wasn’t admitting to it all. Had that been a white man, he wouldn’t have even cared, and Katie wanted him to admit to it.
Incarcerated: Letters From Inmate 92510 Page 18