Lifers (29 page)

“Shit, sorry! I just…” I took a few deep breaths, “I was just … talkin’ to my old man, and…”

She nodded. “Go to my office, please.”

Sighing, I followed her down the corridor. She pulled open the door and pointed to a seat on the far side from her wide desk.

Her office was kind of cramped, filled with metal filing cabinets, but two large windows made it feel less like a hutch. There were some sort of framed certificates on the walls, and a small photograph of three kids on her desk. I assumed that was her family.

“Sit, please, Jordan.”

Reluctantly, I sat on the edge of the plastic chair, my knees bouncing with tension.

Officer Carson frowned as she pulled my file out of the drawers.

“You look a little anxious, Jordan.”

“Yeah.”

“Have you taken something?”

My eyes shot up to meet hers.

“What? Fuck no! No, nothin’. I’m just … wound up right now.”

I couldn’t tell if she believed me or not.

“Well, after this visit is concluded, I want you to go to the police station and get tested. Okay?”

“Ah, hell! I did that three days ago!”

“I’m requesting that you go again. Do I need to make this more official?”

“No, ma’am,” I said, resignedly.

She nodded and made a note in my file. Just then my cell phone beeped, and she looked at me sharply.

“You have a phone?”

“Yeah, I just got it.”

“I’ll need to check that.”

“What?
Why?
”

“I need to see who you’re talking to; what sort of messages you’re sending and receiving.”

I didn’t want her seeing the things Torrey and I had said to each other, but I had no choice. I wasn’t allowed the privacy afforded to upright citizens. I was a felon and I wasn’t allowed to forget it. I had no right to the Fourth Amendment.

Reluctantly, I retrieved my cell from my hip pocket and handed it over.

“Who’s Torrey?” Officer Carson asked, scrolling through it.

“My girlfriend.”

“She’s the only name in your contact list?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She handed my phone back with a small smile.

While she made another note in her file, I looked at Torrey’s message, the one Officer Carson had already read.

How about a booty call
before you see your PO?

I looked up, my cheeks hot, and Officer Carson smiled at me.

While she was checking through her notes, I sent Torrey a quick text to tell her I was already in town.

“So,” said Carson, looking up at me, “let’s work through the usual questions, Jordan. Have you had any police contact since we last met?”

“Yes, ma’am. I was stopped when I was drivin’ back from my girlfriend’s a couple of nights ago.”

“Why were you stopped?”

“I’m not sure, I wasn’t told.”

“Hmm … and what happened?”

“He just wanted to know where I’d been and what I was doin’. He reminded me that my curfew was gettin’ near. He breathalyzed me but it came up negative.”

She looked up quickly, her pen poised. “Why did he breathalyze you?”

I shrugged. “Because he could?”

“Have you consumed any alcohol since the last time I saw you?”

“No, ma’am.”

“Have you wanted to?”

“Hell, yeah! Pretty much every freakin’ day.” I laughed, but it was without humor.

“You’re doing very well, Jordan,” she said, forcefully. “Don’t let anything lead you away from that.”

“No, ma’am.”

“Have you taken any drugs or felt the urge to take drugs?”

“No, ma’am.”

“Good. And how are you getting along with your parents?”

Seriously? She hadn’t just seen the state I was in when I’d arrived?

“Okay, I guess. Well, Dad is … okay. Momma, she don’t talk to me. So … it’s okay.”

“I see.” She jotted down something else. “And you’re still in work?”

“Yes, ma’am.”
For now.

“Well, that’s all good. And have you thought anymore about taking some college courses, other goals?”

My voice was bitter. “Other than to get out of this shithole? No, not really.”

She looked at me sympathetically.

“Jordan, the first six months when you get out of prison are tough. I know from experience that having a support system around you doubles your chances of staying out of prison. You
need
stability.”

“I don’t need
them
,” I growled, pointing at the door, thinking of my parents.

“They can help you,” she insisted.

I coughed out a laugh. “You think? Momma cain’t even look at me without wantin’ to throw up or burstin’ into tears. Dad … isn’t so bad. But I’m never gonna be allowed to start again if I stay here.”

She looked at me seriously. “Jordan, you understand that parole means you are still serving part of your sentence under supervision in the community—
in the community
. But my job is also to help ease your transition from prison to that community. I’ll help with anything I can: employment, residence, finances, or any other personal problems you want to talk to me about. My goal is to ensure that you complete your parole without problems and that you
stay out of prison
. If there’s something going on that is going to jeopardize that, I need to know. Work
with
me, Jordan.”

“Um … I might have lost my job.”

Her eyes were sharp and intelligent, and they seemed to penetrate right through me.

“You mean your work for Reverend Williams at the Rectory?”

“Yeah…”

“What happened?”

I closed my eyes, hating to admit that the Reverend didn’t think I was good enough for her daughter. Hell, I already knew that.

“Torrey is her daughter. The Reverend … she isn’t happy that we’re seein’ each other.”

“Ah,” said Officer Carson, “Oh, dear. Well, as you know, any other job offers will have to be approved. Do you have something else in mind?”

“Maybe some truck repair work.”
I figured Hulk wouldn’t mind me calling it that.
“But it’s just part-time.”

“Hmm, not ideal. Anything else?”

“No, ma’am. There isn’t a lot of work around here. Especially for someone like me.”

“Well, this is a shame, Jordan. You’ve been doing very well up until now. Perhaps I could have a word with Reverend Williams?”

I shrugged. “Knock yourself out, but I’m pretty sure she hates me.”

“And she’s definitely fired you?”

“I was just headin’ over there. I’ll find out as soon as I get out of here.”

Officer Carson sighed. “Let me know when you have an answer. We’ll have to make arrangements otherwise.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She stood up and walked me to the entrance.

I was relieved that the visit hadn’t been a complete disaster, and was pleased that I was on my way out, when we both heard Torrey’s car roar up the street. She skidded to a halt, wide-eyed, in front of Officer Carson.

“Oh, uh, hi!” she said, as she climbed out of the Firebird, her eyes flickering nervously between my parole officer and me.

“You must be Torrey,” Officer Carson said, holding out her hand. “Jordan’s just been telling me about you. I’m Sandy Carson, his parole officer.”

“Oh … right. Torrey Delaney. Nice to meet you.”

“You, too.”

They shook hands, and Officer Carson smiled at her, before turning to me.

“Don’t forget the police station, Jordan. And call me later if you hear anything.”

I nodded, and she walked back inside.

“Awkward much?” laughed Torrey, flinging herself into my arms.

I nuzzled her neck, reveling in the feel of her body against mine.

“Not as awkward as her readin’ your text message,” I chuckled.

“
What?
You’re kidding me!”

“Nope. She heard your message come in and insisted on checkin’ out my phone. I don’t have any privacy, sweetheart. I couldn’t say no.”

Torrey laughed. “Oh, well! Good thing you told me, because I was going to write about some of the things I planned to do with your dick. Just as well I couldn’t be bothered to type out a long message this morning.”

I groaned. “You’re killin’ me, woman!”

She laughed. “And what the hell happened to your hair? You look like you joined the Marines or something!”

“Nah. But this hot woman I’ve been seein’ told me that I needed a fresh start, so … what do you think?”

“Yeah,” she said, stroking the back of my head above my neck. “It’s so soft. It’s not hair, it’s fur! I think I like it.”

I kissed her throat, sucking on her pulse point, feeling the tender skin under my teeth.

“I’m happy about that.”

“So,” she said, running her fingers under my t-shirt. “About that booty call?”

“I’d love to take you up on that, sweetheart, but I’ve got to go see your momma. I don’t suppose she gave any clue what she was thinkin’?”

Her demeanor shifted, and she scowled. “I’m not sure. We certainly
discussed
it last night.” Her eyes turned to me. “I’m sorry, Jordan, you’ll have to ask her yourself. As of last night, it wasn’t looking good, but maybe she’s gone all Christian and had second thoughts.”

“That’s okay, sweetheart. I’ll call on her after I go to the police station.”

Her eyes zeroed in on me.

“My PO wants me to get another drug test,” I explained. “Apparently I seemed somewhat anxious when I arrived.”

“How come?”

“The usual: talkin’ to my old man.”

“Oh,” Torrey pouted. “That sucks. I’ll come with you. I’ve got a couple of hours to kill. I’ll follow you in my car.”

“Um, you really want to come to the police station with me?” I confirmed, shaking my head in confusion.

“Sure, why not? I’ve got nothing better to do.”

I raised my eyebrows. “You really know how to have fun!”

She laughed. “Well, my plans for a booty call seem to be on hold. But if the police don’t take too long, you have a nice large truck … who knows?”

“Miss Delaney, you have a wicked streak a mile wide. God, I love y… I love that about you.”

“Hurry up then!” she snorted, snapping her fingers at me.

“Yes, ma’am!”

The police station was in the center of town, a couple of blocks from the Parole Office. I hated coming here; it brought back the bad memories.

Mostly, they weren’t assholes, but I didn’t trust them either. Too many years of being controlled by people in uniforms—it left a mark. And they had the power to put me back behind bars. Who wouldn’t be freakin’ unnerved by that?

Torrey was quiet as she stood next to me.

“So, um, what are they testing for?”

“Usual stuff: speed, coke, weed, opiates, PCP. No test covers everything, so they pick the most common drugs, or the cheaper tests for the lab to do, I don’t know.”

“Is it a blood test?”

“Nope, just have to piss in a bottle.”

“And they can see from that if you’ve drunk a beer or something, as well?”

“There’s a different test for that—the EtG. They’re looking for the metabolites your body produces when you have alcohol. That stays in urine up to 80 hours. Sucks, huh.”

She looked thoughtful.

“Torrey, this is what it’s gonna be like for the next four months if … if you date me. This is my reality.”

She poked me in the ribs.

“Really, Jordan? Is that what you think of me? Just because you have to go pee in a cup once a week, you think that will put me off?”

I pulled her into my arms and kissed her firmly.

“You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Miss Delaney, and I am
not
lettin’ you go.”

“Just promise me one thing,” she said.

“Name it!”

“Let me go when you pee into that cup.”

I couldn’t help laughing. “Trust you to say that when I’m bein’ all romantic, woman!”

“Keeps it real!” she grinned.

Our light-hearted mood vanished as soon as we entered the police station.

The guys on duty recognized me, but I could see them throwing looks at Torrey. I didn’t like it.

I showed my ID, even though they knew who I was, and explained why I was here. One of them phoned the collections supervisor, while Torrey and I tried to get comfortable on the ugly plastic chairs in the waiting room. We sat there for what seemed like an age. Torrey tried to chat away, but the delay was getting to me. I was twitching like a smack addict waiting for his next fix.

“Hey, calm down,” she whispered, resting her hand on my thigh. “We’ll be out of here soon enough.”

We were interrupted by an officer holding a stack of papers and a familiar-looking plastic bottle with a screw top.

“Mr. Kane? This way.”

Torrey squeezed my hand, and then I followed the guy into the men’s restrooms. He pointed me to a cubicle and left the door open. Then he snapped on a pair of rubber gloves and handed me the small plastic bottle. At least he turned around while I pissed into it.

Stuff like that didn’t bother me. Eight years of having to take a shit in a restroom with no door—well, that strips away any ideas of modesty or privacy. Not saying I liked it, hell no, but I didn’t let it freak me out either.

When I was finished, I handed him the bottle and washed my hands. Then I signed my name, got a copy of the form, and I was done.

I got the hell out of there as fast as I could.

“All okay?” Torrey asked anxiously, when we were back outside in the town square.

I took a deep breath and tried to shake off the tension that still filled me.

“Yep, all done. ‘Til next time.”

Suddenly, I was aware that we weren’t alone. Three guys in baseball caps had spotted me. They were heavy looking dudes but maybe not as fit as they once were. If I could work this right, I’d talk my way out of it. If not…

“Torrey, take your car and get out of here.”

“What’s going on?”

“Just do it, please, sweetheart!”

She glanced behind her and stiffened.

“No way! I’m not leaving you here with those thugs.”

The men were too close now, and the window of opportunity to get her somewhere safe had slammed shut.

I stood slightly in front of her and kept my stance casual, although in my mind I was on high alert. I just hoped that they wouldn’t start something since we were still directly outside the police station.