Descent (Black Heart Romance presents Heaven & Hell)

believes in an eye for an eye, but she doesn’t need to be; she has me.
She doesn’t seem to be as upset about Ross—which makes sense, as he’s still alive—or even
Jackson—which also makes sense after the way he fucked her over—but she’s a bit hung-up on
Mark’s death.
“He had kids, Calvin.”
“I made sure the children were out of the house,” I assure her.
She shakes her head. “That’s not what I meant.”
“I also made a donation to that alopecia charity the girlfriend was always posting about. I
thought you’d like that.”
She sighs and looks at me like I’m hopeless, but it’s a tolerant look. It’s not, “You’re hopeless
and I’m terrified of you, get the hell away from me,” it’s like I forgot to take the garbage out and now
we’ll have to wait until next week.
“I can’t believe you did all of that for me.”
“I’m not done,” I assure her. “The house couldn’t be saved, obviously. It burned up in the fire. It
was very well set.”
“By Arson?”
I don’t comment. For her own safety, she doesn’t need to know that. “But, fortunately, the lot has
gone on the market. Now I can buy it without it looking suspicious. I thought we could do something
nice with it, something you would like. Perhaps a park for our daughter to play at when we go to visit
her grandmother?”
“A cursed park built on a murder site? I don’t think so.”
“All right. Something else, then.” An idea strikes me. “What about a cat shelter?”
Despite herself, I see a spark of interest. “A cat shelter?”
“I’m sure there are plenty of strays in that town and the ones nearby. We could make a shelter or
a sanctuary, somewhere for cats with nowhere else to go. It would obviously be well-funded, so they
could take in cats in need of medical attention, expensive surgeries or treatments. Maybe they could
even do both. They could take in any cat that comes their way and adopt out the ones they’re able,
keep the ones no one wants.”
Her interest is piqued. “I do like cats. And I suppose what’s done can’t be undone, but Calvin,
you swore to me you wouldn’t hurt anyone else without explicitly warning me first.”
I hold up a finger. “That was when I was doing it to punish you. That’s not what this was.”
She shoots me a look. “I don’t need you being my personal harbinger of vengeance, either.”
I beg to differ. She hasn’t sought a bit of vengeance for herself, ever. Until I came along, people