Page 29 of The Innocent

He remembers me.

****

What. The. Fuck?

Not much surprised Jekyll. He was usually prepared for anything and everything. But this? Not even he could’ve predicted their paths ever crossing again. He’d banked on it. And now, here she fucking is.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d remember me since it’s been six months since we last saw each other.” She let out a heavy breath that rolled into a nervous giggle.

How could Jekyll forget her? She’d haunted his dreams long after he’d gotten out. It was a face he could never erase from his mind. And he’d tried. As soon as he’d heard his name and turned back to see her standing there, he’d known instantly it was Imogene.

“What are you doing here?” It came out more like an accusation than a question.

Imogene lived hundreds of miles away. Her life was somewhere else. What the fuck was she doing in Lawry?

“Oh, I saw you from across the street and thought I’d come say hi.” Her cheeks pinkened, and her smile widened as if she was genuinely happy to see him.

Jekyll had a gift for reading others. The tone of their voice, the words they chose, their demeanor, eye contact. He could sense deception instantly. And he got none from her. Most people feared him, keeping their distance. Not Imogene. She’d practically chased him down.

She pointed over his shoulder. “I’m going to the club with some friends.”

Rogue’s club. Well, this shit keeps getting better. But he wasn’t asking about her plans. Jekyll wanted to know why she was in his state.

“I mean” —he growled, arching his brow— “in Lawry.”

His tone alone should’ve had her on edge. She wasn’t. Imogene actually stepped forward, shortening the gap between them.

“Oh.” She chuckled. It was soft, just how he remembered. In fact, he hadn’t forgotten anything about her. This woman had plagued his mind for almost two years. Even after he got out, he thought of her. Too much.

“I live here now.”

What the fuck?

“Since when?”

“I moved here about four months ago.”

Jekyll furrowed his brows. “Why?”

“Um.” Her eyes shifted to his bike, and she pursed her lips, stalling.

He’d seen her do this before. About a year ago, a fight broke out in the prison library between a few inmates. He’d had no stake in it but stayed to make sure she didn’t get caught in the crosshairs. When it was finally broken up, a guard had asked her if she’d seen who’d started it. She had. But Imogene refused to make eye contact with him, pursed her lips, and said she didn’t see how it started.

“I was looking for a change of scenery.”

Liar.

“No introductions, brother?”

Fuck you, Gent. They all knew who she was. The prison librarian had been a popular topic in the club.

She shifted her gaze to the others and rested her hand on her chest. “Oh, hi. I’m Imogene.”

Gent got off his bike, smiling and stalking to her as if she were his prey. Motherfucker, watch yourself.

“Nice to meet you, darlin’. I’m Gent.” He hooked his thumb over his shoulder. “And that’s Cue, Ghost, and Oak.”

Imogene leaned past Gent and waved to the members. He didn’t see their reactions. He was solely focused on her. He’d never seen her outside of the prison, and her lowcut shirt and tight jeans showing all her curves was distracting. Fuck me.