EVELYN
Sorrow washed over me as my eyes met Dave's. It was like staring into the barrel of a loaded gun. His expression was unreadable, but his body was rigid, his jaw clenched so tightly I could almost hear his teeth grinding.
I didn't know what I had done wrong, but whatever it was, I could already tell I was now a walking dead.
Everything between us crackled with something dangerous, something that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand.
My mind raced, scanning through everything I had said, every move I had made, and every breath I had taken since I stepped into Mike's house.
But before I could figure out whatever picture of the puzzle I was trying to arrange, his hand shot forward, gripping my hair with a force that sent pain shooting through my scalp.
"Ahh… ouch! Dave, my hair!" My hands flew to his wrist, trying to pry him off, but it was useless. His grip only tightened, his fingers entangled in strands I had spent hours perfecting before the dinner.
He dragged me close
