Page 112 of The Innocent

Her heart was pounding in her chest. It was stoked by fear that he’d push for more, and she wasn’t ready to give it. But she knew if Jekyll demanded more, she’d probably give in.

His thumbs strummed her cheeks. “Come on.”

Thank you.

****

This woman is like Houdini in the mornings.

When he woke up in the morning, Imogene’s side of the bed was empty. Again. He was quickly learning this was to be expected. Instead of getting out of bed, he stared up at the old ceiling fan. Things had gotten deep last night with her. He got a firsthand look at the weight she was carrying courtesy of her father. It didn’t sit right with him. Her father was dead, and his case was officially closed.

But not for her.

He jerked his eyes to the door when he heard rushed steps outside the bedroom. Then it was silent.

What the…

Jekyll got out of bed, put on his jeans and went in search of her. He walked out of her room to find Imogene standing at the edge of the breakfast bar, staring into the kitchen. She seemed to be in a trance.

Jekyll came up behind her, resting his hand on her hip. The second he made contact, she flinched and spun around.

“What the fuck is wrong?”

She shifted her gaze to the counter. An orange cat was stationed directly in front of the coffee maker laying down.

“I’m going to run out for coffee.” Imogene said.

“Why don’t you make it here?”

She sighed, and her shoulders sagged. She slowly lifted her arm, pointing to the cat.

What the fuck?

“Move him.”

She gasped, and her eyes were wild as if he’d just suggested they rob a bank and take ten hostages.

“You can’t just move Hank. He has to” —her throat bobbed and her lips turned downward into a severe frown— “Hank moves himself.”

Jekyll tightened his lips, battening down his amusement. “Are you afraid of your cat?”

“I have good reason.” She pulled up her sleeves, and her arms were covered with faint scratches. They weren’t too deep and almost healed but there were a lot of them.

“He did that to you?”

She nodded and glanced over at Hank, taking a step back.

“Then get rid of the fucking cat.”

She knitted her brows. “I can’t do that.”

Jekyll snorted. “Why not?”

“I adopted him, made a commitment.” She sighed heavily. “So now he’s mine. ’Til death do us part.”

This was fucking nuts! Jekyll moved past her, but she grabbed his arm. “Don’t. He’ll claw your arms and scratch your tattoos.”

Jekyll scoffed. “He ain’t gonna do shit to me.”