Page 78 of The Innocent

Imogene glanced up, noticing Jekyll’s lips twitch.

Imogene hadn’t thought too much about what would actually happen at the party. She hadn’t imagined anything more than a group of people and bikers hanging out. Maybe some drinks, music, possibly dancing. This was a bit overwhelming. She’d been to an occasional party in the past but nothing to this magnitude. She peered around the room lost in her own thoughts. She hadn’t even realized someone had stopped to talk with Jekyll until she heard her name.

The man next to Jekyll was a little older, maybe late forties, with salt and pepper hair, and a beard to match. He had a similar build to Jekyll, and wore the same vest. The rectangular patch over his chest read “President.” She smiled, lifting her hand in a short wave.

His brows dipped, and he shifted his eyes back to Jekyll. It wasn’t exactly a warm welcome, but so far, aside from Gent, she hadn’t gotten one from anyone, including Jekyll. Why should she? He didn’t invite her. If he’d wanted her there, he had her number. He could’ve asked her himself.

“Stay close.” Jekyll shouted as he started across the room.

There was a table near the wall with three empty chairs. There were others seated, but as soon as they got a few feet from the table, the two men stood, grabbed their drinks, and walked away. Jekyll sat in the chair with his back to the wall. She contemplated which seat she should take, but the decision was made for her when he pulled out the one next to him.

Imogene sat, shifting in her chair, glancing around the room. She knew from the prison that Jekyll wasn’t a conversationalist. If they were going to talk, she’d have to be the one to start it. She turned in her seat, shouting over the music.

“Is that guy your president?”

He gave a curt nod. “Yeah.”

“So he’s in charge of your club?”

“Something like that.”

She chuckled. “Kind of like your principal.”

It was an attempt at a joke, and if his scowl was any indication, not a very good one.

She waved her hand, “I just mean, if you mess up or break the rules, you probably have to report to him.” She gulped. “You know, like a principal.”

It felt like another crash and burn. Imogene didn’t have a problem making small talk, but usually the other party showed some interest. She racked her brain trying to come up with something to talk about, but they were very different. Aside from books, she couldn’t think of anything they might have in common. Imogene knew nothing about motorcycles, clubs, or anything involving biker life. Asking about his hobbies seemed lame.

“How long are you in Killcreek?”

His inquiry caught her completely off guard. She perked up.

“I have a meeting tomorrow and head back to Lawry tomorrow night.” She shifted in her chair. “The meeting should only take an hour though. Other than that, I don’t have any plans.”

Imogene waited for some type of response. He basically had her whole itinerary and availability. If he wanted to get together, all he had to do was ask.

“So, I’m free most of tomorrow.”

Jekyll nodded, sipped his beer and veered his gaze across the room.

This is so embarrassing.

Maybe it was time to wave her white flag. She’d just crashed and burned for a third time. A person could only take so much rejection. It was nice of Jekyll to hang out with her but clearly he was doing it out of obligation rather than desire. I should go. There was no need to prolong this. She was just about to call it a night when Gent appeared in front of their table. Without thinking, she smiled and waved.

“Hi Gent.”

Jekyll jerked his eyes and glared. At me. But he swiftly turned on Gent.

“What the fuck did I tell you?”

Imogene stiffened. The tension between these two wasn’t something she understood. They were friends. Where was all the animosity coming from? Oddly, it seemed one sided on Jekyll’s end.

Gent smiled, looking down at her. “Brother, be nice. Remember, she’s my date. I’m just willing to share.” There was no missing the sarcasm. Or the inaccuracy.

“Guest.” Imogene blurted. “Not date.”

Gent shrugged, seemingly unbothered by the correction.