Chapter Eleven

June 2016

 

 

“Um, perhaps I should come back another time?”

“Oh no, Reverend. What is it you said yesterday? Time is promised to no man? I think that’s how it went. Anyway, I’ve got the bride and the ring, I’d say we’re good to go.”

So, I did a thing.

The reverend looked beyond me and into the room where Lauren was passed out asleep. “She has to be conscious and agree to the marriage. Until that happens, I’ll be in my room.” I grabbed him by the back of his shirt as he tried to walk off.

“Now, hold on. I’m not making you do this for free—I’ve got five hundred dollars in my wallet if you perform the ceremony. What do you say—”

He wrenched himself out of my grasp and spun around. “I am a man of the cloth, sir. I do not accept bribes—”

I kept my voice low to avoid waking Lauren. “Man of the cloth? What the fuck does that even mean? Everybody accepts bribes; it’s how the world works.”

He shook his head and headed for the stairs.

“Do I need to use the handcuffs on you too?” I hissed after him, before stomping back into the room and slamming the door.

Shit.

I was going to have to find a new officiant.

Lauren groaned and shifted around in the bed. She’d fallen asleep in my shirt, but hadn’t bothered with the buttons. My dick got hard just looking at her. “Mmm…all of me is dying.” The handcuffs clinked against the headboard and her eyes popped open. “What the fuck?”

I waved from the end of the bed, as her chest began to turn scarlet. “Michael Sullivan, did you handcuff me to the bed?”

“Yes, but only because you keep running away from me. I told you I was going to clear my name. It shouldn’t be a surprise to you that I’m using the cuffs to keep you compliant during questioning.”

The redness moved up into her neck. “Mike,” she bit out. “You cannot handcuff people to get what you want. Jesus, fuck, what is on my stomach?”

I picked up the velvet box. “It’s your engagement ring. You’ll get that in a minute. But first, I wan—”

“You can’t do this shit, Mike! You can’t put a ring on my finger and make it all go away! What happened last night was just a one-time thing!”

I ran a hand across my face. “Well, you’re not getting the ring with that attitude. Look, I know you think that I had something to do with what happened to Monica—Jesus, I feel like I’ve started almost every sentence over the last year and a half with that line—but I swear to you that I didn’t. Someone is setting me and the club up.”

Lauren rattled the cuffs in frustration. “You keep saying that, but the evidence points to you and your father. What am I supposed to believe?”

“Me!” I roared. “For god’s sake, I want you to believe me. The club had just declared war on the Sons of Death MC and one of Grey’s prospects was murdered. This kid couldn’t have been over the age of eighteen. We knew they were targeting prospects and family members.

“I fucked up—I got that text and I thought it was from Grey. I fell right into a trap and the whole time I thought I was keeping her safe. Do you understand what it’s like to live with that guilt? The worst part is that I’ve questioned Grey on damn near everything—that night was the first time I just followed orders.”

I sank down on the edge of the bed in defeat. This had been a mistake—all of it. The ring. Taking her back to my room. She’d never see me as anything other than the man who killed her mom.

She watched me quietly, no longer struggling against the cuffs. I was going to have to let her go—both physically and emotionally.

I sniffed and ran the back of my hand across my eyes. “I shouldn’t have brought you back here, I see that now. It’s just that being with you over the last two years has been nothing short of a shit show—”

She sucked in a breath. “But,”

“Just let me finish. But, they’ve been the best two years of my entire life. Someday, you’re going to meet someone who makes you happy like I never could. And you’ll deserve every bit of it. We couldn’t get it right in this lifetime, but in the next one? Darlin’, you’re all mine.”

I didn’t look at her face as I said it. It would’ve only made things worse. Instead, I kept my focus on the floral wallpaper before standing up to retrieve the keys from my pocket.

“Mike?”

I glanced down to see tears streaking her gorgeous freckled face.

“Yeah?”

She bit her lip. “Who is Grey?”

I poured my soul out and that was where she stopped listening?

I exhaled. “The President of Silent Phoenix MC. C’mon, Red. You know who he is.”

She frowned and her eyebrows moved together. “But, I thought your dad ran it. That’s the impression that I got anyway.”

Thinking about my father being in a room alone with her made me sick to my stomach all over again. “Michael Sullivan, Sr.? Jesus. He can barely manage himself, much less an entire club.”

Instead of seeming relieved, Lauren looked even more confused. “His name is Michael Sullivan, Sr.? Why does he go by Jamie?”

Now, it was my turn to be confused as fuck. “Jamie is Grey,” I said slowly, hoping she’d figure it out and move on to another part of my speech—one that actually concerned us.

She nodded. “Your father. Grey is your father.”

“No…Grey is the club Pres. Comedian is my father.”

Lauren sighed. “The giant with blond hair and blue eyes is—”

“Grey,” I finished helpfully.

Her eyes were as wide as saucers as she exclaimed, “Oh my god. You don’t know. Mike, Grey is your father.”

God, how many times had I wished for that exact thing?

“No, Red. As much as I wish that had been the case, my old man is Michael Sullivan, Sr. The grumpiest motherfucker around.”

“I don’t understand. You look just like him. Even your mannerisms are the same. He was clicking the pen just like you do when you’re thinking. It made sense. You protect the club because your dad runs it. Are you sure you’re not related to him distantly?”

I shook my head. At least now I knew where her confusion stemmed from. She’d never been alone with Comedian; she’d been left alone with Grey. I felt a lot better, knowing that she’d never been in danger. That was why Torch had seemed confused and why Grey’s face had paled—oh, fuck.

I swayed on my feet as I moved for the door.

“Mike?” Lauren called. “Mike, please don’t leave me in these cuffs!”

I couldn’t catch my breath as I marched down the hall toward my mother’s room. My fist connected with the wood loudly three times before she answered.

“Mike, what are you doing here?”

I slammed the door shut behind me and gestured to the bed. “Sit. I’ve got some questions and I’m going to need you to be completely fucking honest with me.”

She immediately began trembling. “I don’t know what you mean.”

The jumping pulse in her neck said she knew exactly why I was here though. “I wanna know about my dad, Betsy.”

She swallowed with an audible gulp, just like a cartoon. “What is there to know about your dad? He’s rough around the edges, but he loves you—”

“My real dad,” I added.

My mother dissolved into tears. “Why are you asking me this? Your dad is Michael Sullivan. You know this.”

But, I didn’t.

Once Lauren said it, everything clicked. Michael Sullivan hadn’t shown up to my little league games, but Jamie Quinn never missed one. My ‘dad’ never gave two shits about me, but a biker Pres seemed to always go out of his way to keep me out of trouble.

“Grey’s my father.” I said it as a statement. My mother refused to look at me, but nodded slightly.

“Does Grey know?”

She nodded again. “You can’t say anything, Mike. If your fath—if Michael were to find out, we’d all be dead.” Her hand came up to cover her mouth as she wept and I knew that I should’ve gone over and comforted her, but she’d kept the truth from me for over three decades to save her own ass.

I could’ve had a different childhood entirely had I known. Instead, I’d spent the last ten years convinced that I was turning into Comedian. I’d been certain that his DNA was stronger than anything I’d gotten from my mother and I was nothing more than a ticking time bomb.

I left her sobbing on the bed and walked downstairs. I continued walking until I was outside, needing some fresh air and a life exchange.

“Mind if I join you?” David gestured toward the long wooden bench I was sitting on.

I nodded and continued staring aimlessly down the aisle. We’d stood here just yesterday; back when I was naïve enough to think that I could convince Lauren to stay. Back when I thought I knew who my father was.

“I thought you and your bride would’ve been sleeping in since your mom has Kaden.”

David chuckled. “That was the plan, but Lauren was screaming the entire fucking inn down. I thought she was in trouble.”

I jumped up. “Fuck, Lauren. I’ve still got the keys!”

He laughed again. “Relax. Beth had a bobby pin. I picked the lock. Next time though, make sure your girl’s decent before you restrain her, especially if you plan on bolting. That is more of her than I ever needed to see.”

Jesus, she was going to kill me.

“How’d you know how to do that?” I was surprised, more than anything. David didn’t seem the type.

“Have you really forgotten all the shit we got into growing up? Knowing our way out of cuffs kept us on the right side of the law. Don’t you remember?”

I nodded. “For all the good it did. I can’t even remember the last time I was really on the right side of the law. Probably somewhere before I turned eighteen.”

David leaned over and rested his forearms on his knees. “You’ve made a lot of sacrifices, brother. Surprisingly, not all of them have been selfish. You covered for me the morning after my wedding and again with the Landon thing. You saved my wife’s life and you turned Lauren into someone I can actually stand to be around. The good in you outweighs the bad, no matter what you think. And I haven’t said it, but thank you.”

I clapped my hand on his shoulder roughly and nodded. “Thanks, man.” It was as deep as either one of us was ever going to venture without growing a vagina.

“So, the handcuffs?”

I sighed. “What would you say if I told you that Lauren and I have been on and off since last June? Or that we’d been living together up until last month?”

His face screwed up in confusion. “What the fuck? Are you serious?”

I nodded and told him everything from the last six years—how I sold my soul to the devil the morning after meeting an angel. How I got her mom killed and ultimately lost her. It seemed like I talked for hours, finally feeling like I was coming up for air by the time I reached the end of it.

“Wow.” David kept shaking his head. “Jesus.”

I leaned forward until my arms were on my legs, matching his stance. “Tell me about it. I was actually dumb enough to believe that I could keep her cuffed to the bed until she started listening to reason.”

“Well, I would say you’re tied for the stupidity award with that and the fact that you thought now was a good time to propose,” David said with a grim smile.

The breeze whistled as it moved through the orchard, cooling our skin, yet not clearing my head one damn bit. “So, I just let her go?”

David bent down and picked a blade of grass, splitting it between his fingers, completely lost in thought. “I can’t answer that for you. If you and the club didn’t have anything to do with what happened to her mom, then eventually, she’s going to see the truth. What about the shit with your dad?”

I pinched the bridge of my nose and sighed. “My whole life, I wanted nothing more than to be Jamie Quinn’s kid. Now that I know I am, it just fucking complicates everything. So, I’m not the son of a sociopath. I’m just the son of a man who was too much of a pussy to acknowledge me. It’s not much better.”

“The one thing I can’t figure out is how Lauren knew.” He began twisting the grass around his finger like a ring, the carpenter in him building something out of nothing. If I tried, I’d just end up with grass stains on my hands.

“She said it was his mannerisms.” We slipped back into silence and I wondered if there was anyone else on the planet who knew me as well as she did—if there was anyone who would ever know.

“Well, I think you know what to do,” he said as he dropped the grass and stood up.

“I do?”

David nodded. “Yeah, you’re good at thinking on your feet—always have been. Let me just say that nothing is impossible to overcome. I’m living proof of that. Just give her some space, but don’t stop chasing her—even after you catch her. Don’t make the same mistakes I did.”

I laughed. “David, I don’t think anybody’s stupid enough to make the same mistakes as you. Like how hard is it to not put your dick in her best friend?”

He cuffed me upside the head. “How hard is it to not keep kidnapping women and proposing to them?”

“Touché, asshole.”

I stood up and stretched before following him back toward the inn. I was going to give her the space she needed, while working to find the real killer.

David and I parted in the upstairs hallway as Elizabeth came around the corner. She gave him a small smile and nodded, before looping her arm through his, letting him lead her back toward their room. He winked at her in return and I found that I hadn’t understood a bit of their exchange.

“What’s with all the secret codes?”

“See you later, Mike,” she called cheerfully over her shoulder to me.

I stood in the same spot. “That doesn’t answer my question. Are y’all really just leaving like that?”

David paused and looked back at me. “I’m kid-free for the next two hours, so unless you have some life-threatening emergency, go the fuck back to your room.”

I flipped him off and rounded the corner toward the room. I knew that Lauren would be long gone, but I planned on spending the next few hours before check-out working on the case and trying not to think about all the ways I’d let her down.

Maybe it’d keep my mind off of Grey too.

I slid the key card in and waited until it flashed green before swinging the door wide open. Lauren was back in her dress from the night before, staring out the window.

“Hey,” I said quietly. “I wasn’t sure you’d still be here.”

She turned around and nodded. “Yeah. I dropped a bombshell on you and I didn’t want to leave until I knew you were okay. I would’ve come after you, but I was cuffed to the bed.”

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.”

I stood up and pulled her into my arms. “God, I’ve missed you. So, what do you say? Marry me?”

Wild strands of red hair tickled my face as she reached up and pulled my mouth down toward hers. “Absolutely yes.”