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And when Lily gets up, she leaves calmly, closing the door behind her with a quiet click, leaving me behind in sorrow, praying she’s wrong.
9
Logan
The wind is chilly, and I look over at Jasmine to see if she’s feeling the effects. The curvy girl has both arms wrapped around her torso, but it’s not from the cold. Instead, she’s lost in thought and for good reason too because we’re standing in the waiting area at Ardsley Correctional Facility, along with a dozen or so other people who have come to visit an inmate. We’re here to visit Jasmine’s father, Willy, who is serving time for kiting checks. The visiting room will open in just a few minutes, and Jasmine seems nervous.
It's understandable though. My girlfriend’s wanted to visit her father for a while, but she didn’t feel ready for a multitude of reasons. As a loyal boyfriend, I’ve offered to accompany her, which she gratefully accepted. But even though the thought of having me by her side seemed to comfort her, she still resisted. Until last night.
After I got home from my meetings in the city, I went straight to Jasmine and found her in a quiet, reflective mood. When I asked her how her meeting with her mom went, she didn’t want to talk about it, so not wanting to pry, I dropped the subject. But over dinner, Jasmine brought up my offer to take her to see her father, and asked if we could go today. I wonder if there’s something linking Willy and Lily? I suppose they were once married, so anything’s possible.
But I immediately agreed. I only had one meeting today, which I rescheduled, and we drove here for the morning visitation slot. The entire trip, Jasmine’s been quiet. In the car, I put my hand on her knee, which she gently squeezed, but other than that, I couldn’t read the curvy girl. What in the world is going through her mind?
“Are you okay, sweetheart?” I whisper, inclining my head so only Jasmine can hear. The waiting room is uncannily quiet, almost spooky with its fluorescent lighting casting odd shadows about the room. She nods, but other than that, Jasmine seems to be lost in her own world. I don’t blame her because an angel like Jasmine doesn’t belong in a scummy place like a prison. Her soft, beautiful features look entirely out of place in the grim, gray room. She shouldn’t have to be here. She should have had a father who protected her and did his best by her. At the very least, Willy Bleeker should have made provisions for his daughter so that she didn’t have to fend for herself at a young age.
Nonetheless, Jasmine has never said a bad word about her father, nor her mother, either. Whenever she speaks of her parents, which isn’t often, it’s always with the matter-of-fact opinion that they never had many choices. They did their best despite difficult circumstances, and I suppose there’s some truth to that. After all, it seems that Willy isn’t exactly a terrible person, just not a very smart one. All the same, I’m personally of the opinion that both her parents are mediocre at best, and that Jasmine deserves better.
The door buzzes, and Jasmine starts. The movement shows how uncomfortable she is, and my arm swings protectively around her shoulders as we stand, providing reassurance. She noticeably relaxes, and throws me a gorgeous, gentle smile.
“I’m glad you’re here,” she whispers, as we file in with the other family members heading for the door. “Thank you for coming, Logan.”
“Of course,” I growl. But as we enter the visitation room, Jasmine tenses again. There are inmates sitting at designated tables, and their heads swivel seeing the beauty at my side. Beady eyes hungrily devour every inch of Jasmine’s curvy body, and one motherfucker with no teeth literally licks his lips. Shit. This is such a cesspool, and I suppress the urge to frog march Jasmine out of the penitentiary immediately. After all, I’m here to support her. I won’t be doing much good if we leave without even saying hello.
All the same, I don’t want her here any longer than she needs to be. Fortunately, Jasmine spots her father immediately and heads over to him, with me close on her heels. I glare at some of these motherfuckers, daring them to make a move.
“Hi Dad,” Jasmine exclaims softly as she embraces a thin, middle-aged man in an orange jumpsuit. Clearly, this place is low-security if you can actually hug an inmate.
“Jasmine,” Willy croaks in reply as they sit opposite each other. He might have been handsome once, but now his brown hair is thinning, and he’s got a tired, haggard look about him. “Of all the days you could have chosen to visit me, why today?”
“What do you mean?” Jasmine asks in a soft voice, the hurt evident in her eyes. “Do you want me to leave?” Her brown eyes are wide, and her full mouth looks strained at the edges. I clench my jaw at the knowledge that this man is so callous. He may be her father, but no one has the right to insult Jasmine.
“No, honey,” Willy says, reaching for her hand, and I relax a little. “It’s just that…” his voice trails off as his eyes dart nervously around the room. I follow his gaze, frowning, wondering what he could be stammering about. Everything seems normal. At least, normal for a scummy place full of low-lifes.
“Just what?” she asks with a quizzical air.
“Nothing, honey,” Willy forces a smile, showing off dark yellow teeth. “Ignore me. Tell me about yourself. Who’s this fella here?” he asks amicably, implying me.
Jasmine practically beams with pride.
“This is Logan,” she says, reaching up to take my hand. I’m standing next to her, still unable to relax enough to sit down. “Logan Daniels,” she says. “Why don’t you join us?” she asks me in a more discreet tone. “Sit, please Logan.” I’m unable to deny Jasmine anything she asks of me, and soon I find myself awkwardly folding my huge frame onto a flimsy picnic-style bench. But I’m still scanning the room.
“Is Logan someone special?” Jasmine’s father asks beneath his breath, holding out his hand for me to shake.
“Sort of,” giggles Jasmine as I shake her father’s hand politely, forcing a smile. I’ve still got one eye on the assholes in this room, many of them still throwing hungry looks at Jasmine’s tits, or her ass and thighs, which are spilling gently over the sides of the thin bench. I’m tense, with my body poised to fight at a moment’s notice.
“I live with Logan at his estate,” Jasmine explains, squeezing my hand. “We’re very happy together.”
“Good!” exclaims her father. “I’m glad someone’s looking after my little girl. Lord knows I failed in that department.”
“Dad, don’t say that,” Jasmine whispers, shaking her head. “It’s okay. Don’t worry about it.”
At least Willy has the grace to look regretful.
“No, it’s true,” he says. “I’ve been an utter failure there.”
“You were just trying to -”
“I was trying to cheat the system,” he interjects. “When I should have been obeying the law. I should have thought more carefully about what could happen if I got caught.”
