(KRYSTAL'S POV)
Hunger drags me out of bed sometime after midnight.
Not the polite kind either. The aggressive, stomach-growling kind that won't shut up until you feed it. I slip out from under the covers, careful not to wake Val, and grab my phone off the nightstand. The hallway outside our room is pitch-black, so I turn on the flashlight and let it guide me down the corridor.
The safehouse is dead quiet in that eerie way.
I reach the kitchen and head straight for the fridge, already mentally settling for leftovers or fruit or literally anything that won't require effort.
I pull the door open, squinting at the shelves. Then suddenly I feel cold hands land on my shoulder.
My body reacts instantly before my brain can catch up. I spin around and swing my fist.
"Ouch!"
I shine my phone light straight up and freeze when I see his face.
My brows pull together. "Angelo?"
He's rubbing his jaw, eyes narrowed, clearly pissed and in pain. "Krystal, what the hell?"
