Descent (Black Heart Romance presents Heaven & Hell)

Chapter Twenty Two
Calvin
All day I watch Hallie try to rub me out of her life like a wine stain on a silk shirt.
After Chef Ryan leaves, she gathers up everything I’ve bought her. She drapes the gown over her
couch in its garment bag, boxes up the rest in an empty Amazon prime box. She deliberates over the
necklace I left her at Charity’s wedding. I’m not immediately sure why, but she grabs her phone and
texts for a minute before grabbing the jewelry box and tossing it in the box as well.
Out of curiosity, I open the side drawer on my desk and check my clone of her phone to see what
she said. Apparently, she hadn’t firmly determined whether or not the necklace was from me, so she
decided to ask Charity if it was a gift from her. When Charity replied, “What are you talking about?”
Hallie sent back a “never mind” and a “feel better soon!” and then decided to get rid of it.
A fair reaction, I suppose.
I wait for her to take the box outside to throw it in her trash so I can send Hollis to retrieve it for
me—I’m sure she’ll regret the rash move later and want her things back—but it never happens. She
boxes it all up and stares at it, but then she seems to get frustrated and walks away.
Next on her to-do list is to make phone calls about getting her door locks replaced immediately
—today, if possible. She calls several different places, but none have availability for today. A couple
went to voice mail, so she left messages.
Seeing an opportunity, I grab my phone and text Arson’s burner phone to request that he “call her
back” to schedule an appointment to change her locks. I tell him it needs to be today and dirt cheap so
she goes with him. He shoots back a colorful response, but assures me it will get done.
Assurances are nice, but I don’t feel at ease about it until her phone rings and she begins lighting
up at all the good news. What? There’s availability to come today? And you’ll charge me less than
half of anyone else I’ve called?
Moments after she hangs up, Arson sends me a message saying it’s done and he’ll send a guy
around in an hour or so.
“Make sure it’s someone you trust beyond a shadow of a doubt,” I text back. “I don’t want
anyone else having a key to her place.”
“Would you feel better if I went myself?”
“Yes,” I answer immediately.
“Price is doubled in that case.”
That’s an irrelevant detail and he knows it, so I don’t bother responding.