Descent (Black Heart Romance presents Heaven & Hell)

Chapter Nine
Hallie
As six bleeds into seven, and seven into eight, I sketch, sketch, sketch.
I decided that burying myself in work would be the best thing. Work pays my bills, but it also
provides an escape from my troubles by allowing me to focus on lines and shading rather than…
well, Calvin Cutler.
Marie—my cat—hops up on my drawing table and brushes her bushy white tail right in my face
before trying to step on my paper.
I grab her and snuggle her against my chest before her claws can destroy two hours of hard work.
“I don’t think so, little girl.”
I pet her head and she nuzzles me, placing her paw over my wrist as if giving it a hug.
I smile and give her a warm hug, then I push back my chair and bend down to put her on the
floor. “Just give me a few more minutes, okay? I’m almost finished, then I’ll feed you dinner. Are you
hungry?”
She sticks her tail in the air and prances away, not deigning to respond since I made her get off
my drawing table.
I’m a little relieved checking the clock and seeing it’s after eight. I needed to keep busy during
the time when I should have been heading to the steakhouse Calvin told me to meet him at, but now
that it’s too late to show up even if I wanted to—and no big, scary men with syringes have shown up
at my door—I can finally relax.
It’s over. It’s done. He knows now I didn’t show up, and I no longer have to wrestle with myself
over the ethicality of it all. I’ve never met someone so fixated on the truth before. People tell each
other polite little lies all the time, but with Calvin’s emphasis on honesty, I feel ickier about it than I
normally would.
It doesn’t matter now.
I go to the kitchen and dig a can of food out of the cabinet for Marie. Now that I’m not
displeasing her, she comes over and rubs up against my leg.
“Which one do you want?” I ask, holding up a green can and a purple one. “Chicken or fish?” I
bend down to let her investigate each can and she paws at the purple one. “Chicken it is,” I tell her,
standing back up to open the can.
As I’m dishing the food into her bowl, I think I hear a noise at the door.
I freeze, and so does my heart. I wait for a knock, but there isn’t one.