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My body responds before my mind can catch up, and I slam through the door, darting into the bar area. Annie’s standing by the counter, a towel wrapped around her hand.

When I reach her, I grab her hand and shift the fabric so I can see how deep the cut is.

Doesn’t need stitches. The rag is fucking dirty.

I rip it off, and gripping her by her wrist, I drag her back to the kitchen. Opening the faucets by the sink, I shove her hand beneath the water while ordering, “Stay right here.”

I rush to the cupboards and grab the first aid kit from the one at the bottom, where odds and ends are kept, then hurry back to Annie.

Having tended to wounds a million times, I go through the motions of cleaning the cut before sealing it with surgical glue.

Within minutes, I’m done, and when I lift my head and meet her eyes, my heart clenches.

Seeing Annie’s blood does something weird to me. It causes a need to destroy whatever hurt her, to wrap her up and tuck her away where nothing can touch her.

It’s visceral.

My arms cramp from the effort it takes not to grab her to me, and my body strains as I force myself to take a step backward.

It feels as if my very soul is rebelling against the distance between us.

Stop.

This time, the command is a mere whisper in my mind as I stare at Annie.

“Thank you,” she murmurs, the softness of her voice wrapping around me like a hug.

I can’t make myself move farther away from her, and it takes brutal strength to remain still when she walks toward the door and goes back into the bar area.

“Are you okay?” Harlan asks.

“Good as new,” she replies.

I glance down at the crimson stained antiseptic wipes.

I’ve been covered in blood more times than I can count, but never has the sight bothered me.

You’re too dangerous for someone like Annie. You will hurt her. If the Bratva finds out about her, they will take her and make her beg for death before someone like you kills her.

Katherina’s face flashes through my mind, and it’s enough to force me to focus on my work.

For now. I get the feeling it’s going to take a few days to pry Annie out from where she’s burrowed under my skin.

Chapter 13

Annie

Since the kiss in the laundry room, not a day has passed that I haven’t replayed what it felt like to have Owen’s mouth on mine.

I wish I could stop the attraction I feel for him. If anything, it grows more intense every time I see him.

When there’s a lull between patrons, I glance at the kitchen door. Usually, I’d help with the dishes, but for the past two weeks, I’ve avoided going into the kitchen unless I have to hand over a food order.

My teeth tug at my bottom lip, and when I hear Vanessa giggling where she’s sitting by Harlan, I look in their direction. My gaze stops on the pass-through, and I catch Owen staring at me.

Unable to tear my eyes away, I swear a powerful current passes between us. The longer we keep eye contact, the stronger it becomes, until a tremble moves through my body. I begin to feel warm under his gaze, and when his expression turns downright predatory, my abdomen clenches hard.

My desire for Owen becomes too much to handle, and needing fresh air, I rush to the door and push through it into the kitchen. Keeping my eyes trained straight ahead, I hurry to the metal back door and shove it open. When it slams shut behind me, I gasp and begin pacing up and down.