Keane
In front of me, even Kasey seemed to be holding her breath.
“Who’s your friend, Kasey?” the man asked, taking a step back so he could rake his eyes over my body. I squirmed under his gaze, terrified yet stupidly attracted to this asshole in front of me. He was tall and built, with brushed-back hazel hair, a five o’clock shadow, and a gaze so intense I wanted to drop to my knees and beg him for mercy.
“My name is Evelina,” I said steadily. “Eve.”
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