Apollo (Cerberus MC)

I shoot her a text, pacing my bedroom while waiting for her to respond but she never does.

ME: I can explain. It’s not what you think.

No answer.

ME: April, please.

No answer.

ME: I’m still in if you are.

No answer and I don’t know why I’d even think she would answer that one. She’s made her choice, and it’s hitting me directly in the face right now.

ME: Please just tell me that you’re safe.

ME: Where are you?

APRIL: I’m safe.

Two words, that’s all I get from her.

ME: I’ll see you tomorrow. Please let me explain.

That text goes unanswered as well.

Chapter 11

April

It wasn’t until I called Cara after leaving the clubhouse last night that it became glaringly obvious to me that I’ve never truly been alone. Back at the compound, people were all around. There were rules and structure and thinking for myself really wasn’t necessary. My days were planned down to the minute, and I could just move through life on autopilot. In South Carolina, my grandparents were always hovering, probably to make sure I wasn’t going to try to steal the silverware. The bus ride to Cerberus was spent surrounded by people with a plan in my head to keep me company.

In this hotel room? Nothing but silence, the walls so well-built I don’t even hear other guests as they come and go from their rooms.

It’s unnerving. My skin is crawling for interaction with others, but I’ve been left with no choice. I knew getting what I needed when I came to New Mexico was a long shot. I knew getting my hopes up when Nate agreed to my outlandish plan was a mistake, and I wouldn’t be here alone if he hadn’t made promises. He could’ve easily said no or that he would take extreme caution when he was planning to meet up with other women. And I guess he did, sneaking out in the middle of the night. I know he was going to meet another woman. I may have lived a sheltered life, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t seen what he did before. The teens at Knight Salvation became experts at sneaking around, trying not to get caught doing things that were forbidden.

And if he wasn’t doing something wrong, then there was no reason for him to dress quietly and sneak out like a criminal.

It was the lie that got me out of that bed and dressed. It was the lie that forced me to call a cab and leave. He could’ve just stayed quiet. He could’ve never open that deceptive mouth and made that promise. He must think I’m a fool. I definitely feel like one, albeit a lonely one.

Sleep last night after Cara made arrangements for me to get a hotel room was impossible, and my head throbs with the lack of sleep. In the past, Sundays in California were always spent at the temple, listening to Charles growl and roar about our sins and how the nonbelievers from the communities around the compound were out to get us. We were doomed if we let ourselves fall into the clutches of such evil.

My Sundays in South Carolina included a quick trip to the church, an expectation of southern society rather than having any real religious importance.

I stare at the wall, so bored and disparaged that I don’t even turn on the television. I don’t imagine there’s a thing that could happen that would bring me out of my sour mood. I have no other plans, and since Nate decided to break my trust so early on, I have no idea what happens next. Marrying a man I hardly know would’ve been easy. Marrying a man I don’t love wouldn’t have been ideal, but I could’ve made it work.

Marrying a man who lies? Impossible.

I may be young, but I have standards.

Even a note left to let me know he was stepping out, that he had needs to be satisfied that I couldn’t meet could’ve prevented me packing in a rush and leaving. I know it still would’ve stung a little, especially after his asking if he could date me, but I like to think I could’ve dealt with it. I scoured that room for a note but found nothing.

I shake my head when the tears threaten to start falling again, and I hate myself a little for letting my emotions get the best of me. I have to be stronger. I know that the world is a mean, terrifying place. I’ve heard it over and over and over growing up.

The midday knock doesn’t come as a surprise. Checkout was thirty minutes ago, and I’ve yet to make a move to leave. My hands shake as trembling legs carry me to the door. If I tell them I’m sick, would they let me stay just a little longer?

But it isn’t housekeeping or hotel management standing in the doorway when I open the door.