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I’m constantly aware of where every single person is and what I can use as a weapon. My mind won’t stop playing out scenarios of how quickly I can jump over the counter, and how many people I can eliminate in the ten seconds it will take me to get to the door.

I find myself searching for Annie, and when I don’t see her among the patrons, my irritation grows. Then the door to the kitchen swings open, and she comes breezing through it.

My eyes track her through the room before a patron slaps his hand on the counter, saying, “Give me whatever you have on tap.”

Soon after, I’m bombarded with orders, and the stuffy room closes in around me, the twenty-three patrons all chatting and laughing too loudly. In the kitchen, a glass breaks, the sound sharp. Instinctively, my head turns a fraction, but I stop myself from looking and try to pay attention to the margarita I’m pouring.

Every one of my senses that’s been honed to be a weapon is turned up too high, and everything becomes so fucking unbearable that the next second I go numb.

Switching off is second nature to me. It’s the only way I can keep working and get the job done while standing in the middle of the chaotic mess that’s happening around me.

“Owen?” Annie’s much softer voice draws me out of the trance I slipped into while I went through the motions of filling drink orders.

When I glance at where she’s standing on my right, I see a concerned expression in her big green eyes. In the reflection of her glasses, I notice a grim look on my face.

“Would you like to take a break?” she asks, her sweet tone having a calming effect on me. “I can cover for you.”

Her kindness hits me so fucking hard, I end up staring at her like an idiot, my brain short-circuiting and unable to come up with an acceptable response.

“Take him out back for fresh air, Annie,” Miles says. “Grab something to eat while it’s quiet.”

It’s only then that I notice there are just seven patrons left in the bar.

Fuck. I completely checked out, which left me vulnerable to an attack.

Something like this has never happened to me before.

“Come with me.” Annie places her hand on my back, giving me a gentle nudge.

I walk with her through the kitchen, and when we step out the back door, which opens to the alley where the dumpsters and delivery area are situated, I take a deep breath of the hot summer air.

Annie disappears inside again, but less than thirty seconds later, she comes rushing out with a chilled bottle of water. I watch as she opens it, then she says, “Have some of this. You didn’t drink anything the past three hours, and you need to get hydrated before the rush starts.”

Having this beautiful, kind woman worried about me does something to my heart. I’ve never had anyone look out for me.

Taking the water from her, I tilt my head back and practically down it all in one go. When I’m done, I toss the bottle in the nearest dumpster.

Annie moves closer, the concerned look still on her face. She begins to lift her hand but stops and instead nudges her glasses back up her nose. “Do you feel better?”

It doesn’t escape my attention that I wouldn’t have minded if she touched me again.

As I nod, our gazes lock, and I find myself getting lost in how unbelievably innocent and kind her eyes are.

Usually, when I look at a person, I size them up, search for weapons, and estimate how long it would take to kill them.

But with Annie, I actually take in what she looks like. Her ginger hair. The freckles all over her skin. The slight way her nose curves up at the end. Her cheekbones.

She’s half my size. Skinny, with no visible muscles to suggest she has some strength in her body.

She looks weak and is an easy target who wouldn’t survive long in the world I come from.

Annie is nothing short of an angel.

For the first time in my life, something unexpected and unfamiliar settles in my chest. The instinct to shield her against the monsters she knows nothing about strikes hard.

The last time I felt the need to protect someone, I destroyed my entire life to take down Bastien and the Nikitin brothers. All because of Lily, the little girl who was almost sex trafficked.

“Owen?” Annie whispers, the concern on her face deepening.