Apollo (Cerberus MC)

“I just—” Her eyes drop again, and I hate not being able to see her pretty eyes.

I resist touching her, even if it is to simply lift her head so she’s looking at me again. Agreeing to marry her and raise her child doesn’t give me express permission to put my hands on her.

My balls shrink a little, knowing that this won’t be a real relationship. I’m not going to get to crawl into her bed each night and press myself against the warmth of her body.

“I feel so dirty and impure,” she whispers, as if the confession makes her words true.

The woman has a lot of deprogramming that needs to happen before she changes that opinion about herself, and I know that isn’t going to happen all in one day. Hell, it may not happen in a lifetime.

“I’ll do it,” I say again with a little more conviction. “I’ll marry you today if that’s what you want.”

Chapter 3

April

My mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water, an involuntary response to his words. I came here with minimal hope, knowing what I’m asking is huge, and not expecting him to agree.

“You’re sure?” I ask again because I honestly can’t trust my ears right now.

Seriously. What man in their right mind would agree to such a thing? Not one with stable mental health, that’s for sure.

“Yes,” he answers, his back straightening as if he’s certain of his answer.

I should walk out, tell him I’m joking and beg him to forget I asked, but I’m selfish. I need this from him. I can’t think about anyone but my baby right now. I don’t want him or her to suffer with my impure decisions. I don’t want my child doomed to an eternity in Hell because I trusted a boy that promised me the world only to pull the rug out from under my feet not long after he got exactly what he wanted.

“I’m twenty-six,” he says, his words almost a whisper.

“And I’m eighteen. We’re both adults.”

A look crosses his face like my legal status doesn’t mean much, but it disappears a second later.

“You’re sure you want to be married to a man you don’t know?”

“I thought I knew the boy who got me pregnant and look where that left me.”

I press a hand to my stomach, wanting to protect my unborn child from any form of negativity. This child will never know the truth, and that may not seem fair, but being called a whore by both my grandparents and the man who whispered I love yous in my ear wasn’t fair either.

“I don’t want to force you into—”

“I made a promise, and I plan to keep it.”

Obligation is what’s going to keep him in my life, and as awful as I am for asking for it, I know I can’t back out now. I need this. It’s the only solution I could come up with. I know it’s nuts. I know it could end very badly, but it’s a risk I have to take.

“We’ll give the baby your last name,” I find myself saying. “But I don’t know your last name.”

“Fosse. Nathaniel Fosse. No middle name. My wife would call me Nate.”

“Nate,” I whisper. It’s a cute name, the longer version the same as one of Jesus’s disciples. It’s a godly name, one that demands respect.

“We will have to go back out there and tell everyone, but I need to warn you that gossip spreads like wildfire in this place, so I’m sure everyone already knows.”

I cringe, the fear of the truth coming out making my skin clammy. It’s bad enough they know I’m pregnant and unwed, but the fear of them finding out that the baby isn’t actually Nate’s makes me want to hurl.

“I don’t want to lie to them.”

“And I don’t want to be a whore,” I mutter. “But here we are.”

“No,” he snaps, his fingers urging my chin so I’m looking up at him.

I gasp, his fingers on my face more intimate than the fingers he wrapped around my own when we walked in here moments ago. I feel the same thrill, the same jolt of electricity I felt then, only now it’s multiplied by his closeness.

“You are not a whore, and I won’t allow those words out of your mouth again.”

The word “allow” makes me want to take a step back from him, but it’s the tender look in his eyes that keeps me frozen in place. He doesn’t use the word like a command, like a weapon to get me to obey the way Charles did over and over. It doesn’t hint at ownership and possession.

“We’re going to spend some time working on the way you see yourself, April. You’ve got some pretty messed-up views of the world.”

This is nothing I haven’t heard before. Cory acted appalled when I confessed the things that went on at the compound, but hindsight made it clear that he was only collecting that information to use in my humiliation later, and stupid me fell for every act of compassion and kindness. I was looking for any way out of that place, and when the captain of the football team set his sights on me, I was as easy to manipulate as warm wax.