“Shit,” I hissed.
I bolted upright in bed with a cold sweat slithering down the nape of my neck. I wiped it off and shook it out over the floor, grimacing at the feeling of my damp pillow when I laid back down. I exchanged it for another one, only to find that the pillow I had grabbed was much too flat.
And as I laid there staring at the ceiling, my stomach growled.
“Of. Fucking. Course,” I murmured.
I knew I wouldn’t be able to fall asleep hungry, so I threw the covers off me. I rummaged around for a pair of sweatpants that I pulled on, feeling them practically hanging off my damn hips. I eased my creaking joints out the door and padded toward the haven of food. I wanted a steak sandwich. And pickles. Oh, and chips.
My stomach growled louder as I found myself standing in front of the fridge.
“Shut up, I’m getting there,” I said flatly.
As I pulled out everything I’d need in order to throw down food at two in the fucking morning, a sound caught my ear. A doorknob off to my left jiggled and as I turned my head in its general direction, I noticed that someone was fiddling with the front door.
The hairs on the nape of my neck stood on end as I watched a shadowy figure crack the door open.
“Oops. Not there,” the voice whispered.
I narrowed my eyes as I tucked myself into a corner. The first thought that raced through my mind was to head back to my room and get my gun. I cursed myself for not having it on me. I was pretty sure the guys slept with theirs underneath their damn pillow. But the panic didn’t last long.
Because once the figure turned into the kitchen, they slid their hoodie off their head.
And I realized it was Chloe.
“Can’t sleep?” I asked.
“Holy fuck!” she exclaimed.
She rushed to flip on the light and I stood there, grinning at her. The pale skin of her face quickly flushed beet red before her eyes darted to the ingredients I had sprawled out on the kitchen counter. She licked her lips and I knew exactly why she had gotten up.
Guess great minds think alike.
“What the hell are you doing, scaring me like that?” she asked breathlessly.
I chuckled. “Can’t sleep?”
She shook her head softly and sighed. “No, not really. Then, I got hungry, but then I also couldn’t find the kitchen, and it’s just been a mess.”
I nodded toward the table. “Sit, I’ll make you a steak sandwich.”
The thankfulness that crossed her face was refreshing, considering the fact that most of the people I had been cooped up with were about as thankful as a thumbtack. She flopped into her chair and pulled the hoodie back over her head, then pulled the drawstrings until just her nose peeked out. I snickered as I maneuvered myself toward the stove. It didn’t take long to throw the sandwiches together, and by the time I sat down with our drinks, we had a spread of all sorts of things to eat on the table.
Pickles and chips. Fruit and chocolate dipping sauce. A couple of scrambled eggs just because they sounded good. We even had some pepperocinis and banana peppers to put on our sandwiches.
“To food,” I said as I held up my sandwich.
Chloe giggled. “To falling asleep on a full stomach.”
“Here fucking here,” I murmured.
But I didn’t even get to take a bite before someone actually crashed through the front door.
“Help! Somebody help me!”
Asher’s roaring voice bombarded my ears and I leapt out of my seat. Chloe got the first glimpse of what happened, and the sheer panic that crossed her face was enough for me. I picked up my water and took a gulp before rounding into the hallway, and as Asher held the door open, I watched as a couple of his men stumbled through the opening.
And one of them had been shot in the gut.
