Descent (Black Heart Romance presents Heaven & Hell)

do better, if you start bringing Hallie down in any way, I will have to cut you out of her life.”
She smiles bitterly. “And if you bring her down? Do I get to do the same?”
“I won’t bring Hallie down. I’m only interested in lifting her up.”
The waitress brings back a doggie bag for me. “Thank you,” I tell her. She nods and starts to
leave. Before she does, I say, “Hold on.” I grab Charity’s drink and hand it to the waitress. “She’s
finished with this. We’ll take the bill.”
___
When the elevator doors open on my gallery, all is right in the world.
Well, almost. It occurs to me as I look at the works of world-renowned artists hanging in my
personal gallery, I have an artist living under my roof and I don’t have any of her work displayed in
our home. I’ll have to remedy that soon.
I know Hallie is under my roof, but given all that has happened, there’s a niggle of worry about it
at the back of my mind. A doubt that whispers maybe she was only biding her time until she knew I
would undoubtedly be busy, and she’s run for the hills.
She’s not in the living room or at her desk dreaming up lovelier worlds for children to get lost
in. Tension gathers in my shoulders, but I roll it out.
She’s in bed, that’s all.
Still, I walk a bit faster, having to fight the urge to go to my office instead and check the tracker
on her phone—but that wouldn’t work anyway, because I have the damn thing locked up in my desk.
If she left, she’s left without anything I can track, and I’ll have to scour the whole goddamn city
for her.
I ease the bedroom door open, my mind only half in the moment. The other half is inventorying
every place I can think of that she might be, making plans of attack to knock the legs out from under
her and get her little ass right back where it belongs.
But I don’t have to worry because when the door opens enough for the hall light to stream in, I
see that she already is.
The tension eases at the sight of Hallie all snug in our bed, one arm pushed beneath the underside
of the blanket. She’s facing my side. Maybe she was missing me.
I turn off the hall light and close the bedroom door. It’s dark, but that’s how I like it.
Quietly, I unpack her snack so that it’s ready when she opens her eyes.
She hears me though, or maybe she just senses me. Whatever alerts her that she needs to wake