Page 108 of Three of a Kind

It feels a little like I might starve to death if I don’t eat something right now.

The kitchen, it is.

I doubt I’d be able to fall back to sleep without eating at least something small. It’s dark in the house, but I don’t bother with the lights.

The kitchen window offers enough ambient lighting that I make my way to the fridge with no problem. I’m pretty sure I saw a block of cheddar cheese in the drawer.

I’m going to have to ask the guys to grab some real groceries, rather than just picking up what we need for each meal.

I find the block of cheese and tuck it under my arm before grabbing the leftover cut-up fruit from dinner.

Turning to the left, I drop it onto the counter as I close the side-by-side refrigerator door.

There have to be crackers or something in the pantry, which is on the opposite wall.

All thought disappears as I spot a very tall blond man standing only a few feet away. He’s just inside the kitchen via the entrance from the hallway on the living room side.

I squeal, immediately realizing two things.

I don’t recognize him, and he looks dangerous as fuck.

Both sides of his head are shaved close, but the top is long and falls over his forehead as his head tilts. He’s covered in tattoos from the tops of his fingers to the sides of his neck to possibly even the sides of his head.

My hands fly up, palms out.

Strangely enough…

He does the same.

It’s a nonconfrontation move, but my thighs squeeze together to keep from peeing myself.

Thankfully, I had a bathroom visit right before coming in here.

Otherwise, it might have gotten ugly.

“Don’t scream,” he says in a thick Russian accent.

The hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I’ve heard Bless explain that Avan took New York from the Russians.

“If you’re here to punish Avan, I can assure you, my death won’t hurt him.” I swallow thickly. “You’d actually be doing him a favor.”

“I tend to punish the individual for their sins.” The man shrugs a lithe shoulder. “I find the terror of innocents…” He pauses, like he’s searching for the word. “Unpalatable.”

Movement catches my eye from just beyond the man.

I exhale in relief, assuming it’s one of my guys.

They must have picked up my panic in the bond.

Does that work when they’re asleep?

“Don’t move,” Bless growls, slamming the tip of her gun into the man’s skull from behind. He’s so tall that she has to stretch up to make it work. “I will splatter your brain all over the kitchen tile if you so much as breathe wrong.”

I’m tugged backward into someone’s chest.

The way the kitchen is set up, one side is open to the small dining room. The dining room has an entry point to the living room. Someone clearly used that to sneak through.

I struggle against the iron-like hold, but it’s useless.

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