Page 27 of The Innocent

“Well, that’s great. Can you give me the address so I can take a ride by?”

“Not until the background check is done.”

Imogene furrowed her brows. “But what if I don’t like it, or it’s not big enough, and I don’t even know the rent yet…”

“Imogene.” Judy sighed.

“Yes?”

“From our talk at your interview, I sensed desperation on your end for better living conditions. It’s the only reason I reached out to my friend on your behalf. I called in a favor.”

Oh shit.

“I’m sorry, Judy. I don’t mean to sound ungrateful. I’ve just never done it like this before. Usually there’s a showing and…”

Judy cut her off. “Not for this. The two apartments are identical. Bedroom, bathroom, living room open to the kitchen. The rent is eight hundred dollars.”

That would be tight and put her in debt for the first few months, but if she budgeted right, she’d make it happen.

“My maximum spending for an apartment was fifteen hundred, but I’m sure I can swing sixteen hundred without a problem.”

“I said eight hundred.”

“Right, for each.”

“That’s for both apartments. The total is eight hundred.”

What? That was unheard of in the city, and she would know. Imogene had checked out hundreds of listings, and not one showed up in that price range. That spoke volumes. It probably wasn’t in the best neighborhood. Much like all cities, there were varying sections. I do have mace and took that self-defense class a couple of years ago. It was suggested when she’d decided to volunteer at the prison. Still…

“And um” —she muttered— “you said it’s safe, right?”

“Extremely.” Judy paused. “You’re a young woman living alone in a new city without a partner, family, or many friends. I wouldn’t send you anywhere that wasn’t safe.”

Ah, I love a girls’ girl.

“I’ll take them,” she blurted.

Judy’s soft chuckle echoed over the line. “Smart move. Let me get her your info, and hopefully by tomorrow morning you’ll have a new place to live.”

This was amazing.

“Thanks so much, Judy.”

“You’re welcome. Talk to you tomorrow. Bye.”

“Bye!” Imogene hung up her phone and clasped her hands in prayer. This was beyond her highest expectations. Two apartments at that price? It was safe and affordable? There had to be some type of catch, but she trusted Judy not to steer her wrong. Maybe the universe was taking pity on her for all she’d been through. And I’m not above pity favors.

She was about to turn back to the line, but a group of men across the street caught her attention. They were headed down the sidewalk toward the five motorcycles lined up on the edge of the road. She angled her neck for a better look as they turned their backs. Each man was bigger than the other, with none being small to begin with.

Since living in Lawry, she’d seen a few guys from a motorcycle club riding around the city, usually in groups, but occasionally she’d catch one on his own. The first time she’d seen them, her excitement was almost impossible to contain. For a fleeting moment, she’d thought maybe she’d see a familiar biker. But it wasn’t him. It was a different club. Her enthusiasm deflated instantly like a popped balloon. She should’ve known better anyway. Killcreek wasn’t close to Lawry.

Zane’s motorcycle club, the Killcreek Drifters, lived up north. Imogene had privately, not telling a soul, looked up the town location. It was a few hours from the city. That had dashed any hope of possibly bumping into him. She’d briefly contemplated a spontaneous road trip. Taking a ride and ending up there fell short of ‘I was in the neighborhood’ and bordered on the line of ‘I’m stalking you.’ She’d quickly decided against that road trip.

When the group of bikers disappeared behind two large trucks on the street, Imogene found herself stepping off the curb and crossing to the other side. She was just curious what club they belonged to. There was no harm in it. She’d been too far away to read their patches and wanted a better look. She assumed there were several different clubs in the state. I wonder if they know Zane. Not that it mattered. Imogene had no intention of approaching the bikers. And she certainly wouldn’t ask. Why would I? It wasn’t as if her and Zane were friends. Hell, they were barely acquaintances. Practically strangers.

Except at night, in her bed. They’d gotten very intimate courtesy of her faithful vibrator. Her cheeks burned, and she slowed her steps. Masturbating to an inmate who showed zero interest wasn’t exactly a romantic recipe for a sexual rendezvous. But in her mind? He was interested. And it was freaking amazing!

Imogene slowed her steps. They were only about twenty feet away and close enough to read their patches.