Page 91 of Traitor

I winced. “Yeah, I’m sorry. I saw that going differently in my mind. You didn’t have to wait around though, Red. I’m gonna be just fine.”

She eyed me skeptically. “You sure about that? It’s a lot to take in.”

I shook my head. “Nope. I’m great.”

“Okay.”

I wasn’t ready to watch her walk out of that door though. Not yet. “I found the original autopsy report, Lauren. You deserve to know that the needle found in her arm was a cover up. Monica, even in the end, stayed clean.”

Her eyes filled and she mashed her lips together while nodding.

I continued. “We found the mole too, Red. Unfortunately, the Sons got there before we could question him.” I ran my hands through my hair. “I don’t even know why I’m telling you all this—I guess I just want you to know that even though it didn’t work out between us, I’ll never stop working her case.”

“Okay.” Lauren answered weakly before snagging her purse from the small table by the bed. She walked over to me, holding the ring box.

I took it and placed it in my pocket, avoiding her stare.

“How long have you been carrying that around?” She asked, with mild curiosity.

I met her eyes. “If you’re asking me when I knew that I wanted to marry you, that would’ve been July 2014. I bought the ring right before your mom died though.”

Her eyes filled and she began blinking rapidly. “Well, that’s a long time to hold on to something. It was good to see you, Mike. I’m just going to—”

She walked over to the door without finishing her sentence and I didn’t think. I just blurted it out. “I’ve carried you with me since May 2010.”

Her hand hovered above the doorknob, but then she turned around. “Ask me,” she whispered.

I shook my head. “Ask you what?”

She pointed at the box. “Ask me again, Tex. And do it right this time.”

I didn’t know what had changed in the last five seconds. Frankly, I didn’t care. “But, I haven’t even scratched the surface on helping you find the truth about your mom.”

Lauren smiled and several tears spilled over onto her cheeks. “Torch has been telling me for the last month that the club wasn’t responsible—that you weren’t responsible. The stubborn redhead in me didn’t want to accept it. I got some damn good advice and a healthy reality check this morning. You didn’t do it, I believe you. And, you’re right, Mike. Chaos together is a hell of a lot better than a lifetime apart.”

I dropped to my knee. “Marry me, Lauren Santiago-McGuire. Let me be your home like you’ve been mine—”

“I still want to work-out with Jimmy—oh, and shoot guns. But, go ahead.”

She smiled down at me, but I frowned. “You’re not putting stipulations and conditions on my proposal, are you, Darlin’?”

Lauren chewed at the corner of her mouth. “I’m more making a request or two.”

I didn’t want to agree to her terms, but as her eyes narrowed at me, I realized I never had a choice in the matter. “Fine,” I grumbled. “I’ll allow it. Anything else you need to put on the table or am I allowed to finish my fucking proposal now?”

She smirked. “You’re ruining it with your language.”

“You’re ruining it with your amendments.” I mimicked her voice as I popped the ring box open, only to find that it was empty. The blood left my face as I tried to retrace my steps. “I swear to god there was a ring in here,” I said, more to myself than her.

Lauren nodded and held up her left hand. There it was, sparkly as fuck sitting on her ring finger. “I tried it on and found that I didn’t want to take it off.”

“Just like that, huh? And you were just going to waltz out of here with it on?”

Her cheeks pinkened. “Well, not exactly. I was going to give you another chance to ask me and then I was going to waltz out of here with it on—”

“You got it stuck on your finger, didn’t you?”

She nodded. “Little bit, yeah.”

---