Page 52 of Lake
“Go,” Abigail said.
“Abigail,” I said looking at her softly. I never meant for any of this to happen.
“It’s my issue to deal with. Now, move your ass and go after her.”
I flashed her a half smile before I shot out of my seat.
“Bridge,” I called out once I burst through the front door to the clubhouse and found her halfway across the lot already.
She halted but didn’t turn to face me.
“I don’t want that,” she said as I came up behind her. “I am not that kind of person. I don’t want to get in the middle of anything.”
“You’re not,” I assured her. “I don’t have something going on with Abigail.”
“But you could. And I just got in the middle of it. I like her, Lake. She’s a good person. I was a bitch to her that night I met her and she forgave me like it was nothing. She’s been nothing but nice to me.”
“Hey, look at me,” I said softly.
She turned slowly and while she wasn’t crying, I could tell that she was upset.
“It’s not like I’m going to be here that long, Lake. I am not that kind of person that comes in and annihilates everything like a tornado and leaves a trail of wreckage behind.”
“I know.” I pulled her into me and though she didn’t move to put her arms around me, she didn’t push me away either.
The first thought that ran through my mind was to get her to understand. But understand what? That was the thing that was tearing up my head. Something that maybe I hadn’t quite grasped myself.
I opened my mouth to say something but the front door pushed open with a force that captured our attention immediately.
“Lake,” B-ry said as he came crashing out of the clubhouse.
He didn’t need to say more for me to get it.
Bridget stepped away from me as she caught onto the intensity in his tone. Her nod was all I needed to know that she understood.
“I’ll find you later,” I said looking into her eyes. I was hoping that she could read everything that I wasn’t saying in my gaze. Though, I wasn’t really sure what that was.
With a quick kiss to her temple, I jogged off in the direction of B-ry.
“Church,” he said stiffly as he turned and walked back inside.
I followed him to the back and up the stairs. The table was already half full and it wasn’t long before everyone else came rushing in.
“I got a call from the Russians,” Iron said, his eyes sliding over to look at B-ry for a split second. “They requested a meeting, told me I had an hour.”
Shit.
A meeting out of the blue wasn’t good. What the hell was going on? There was no way they were pissed off about the guns, we’d done right by them and the Irish. Keeping the peace was what we all wanted. And I couldn’t come up with anything else that could be wrong.
I looked around the room and no one gave anything away. Maybe they were as clueless as I was.
“We all ride. I’m not taking any chances. He wants to meet at the restaurant, top floor.”
That was a relaxed enough place to meet but also, very strange.
That restaurant in question wasBella Vita, an Italian restaurant owned by the Russians, with an Italian woman that ran the kitchen. Long story, from what I’d gathered. Something that happened before our time and left a little bad blood between the Italians and the Russians for like a decade or something. For the most part, Pyotr didn’t do a lot of business there, choosing to keep the place as clean as could be.
So maybe this wasn’t going to be as intense as we were thinking. It could have been one of those friendly sit-downs, keep each other updated kind of things. Right? But then why did it seem like it was a hurried request. I was using therequestpart lightly. We didn’t have a choice, I could tell in Prez’s tone.
