Descent (Black Heart Romance presents Heaven & Hell)

I swallow it, anyway.
A brief hit of desolation settles around my shoulders. I don’t like not knowing what to do, how to
stay safe. I want to leave, and that compels a more honest question. “When can I go?”
He cocks a dark eyebrow as he pauses with his fork halfway to his salad. “We’ve just started
eating.”
“Yes, but you’re forcing me to do all of this. If we can skip the meal and I can take Marie and go
home, I’d like to do that as soon as possible.”
His prior warmth dissipates and a cool front sweeps in. “You’re not going anywhere, Hallie.
We’re on the salad course. There are still three meal courses and a dessert to go.”
“And after that, can I leave?”
“I haven’t decided yet,” he answers coolly.
“What does that mean? How do you decide whether or not to further break a person?”
Calvin takes a sip of his wine, watching me in that unnerving way of his. As he replaces the
glass on the table, he asks, “Do you know why we’re having three courses tonight, Hallie?”
A frown flickers across my face.
What does that have to do with anything?
He answers when I don’t. “We’re having three courses because the first taste of something is
always the best. When the flavors are new and you don’t know how they’ll dance across your tongue.
The second bite is good, too. Different from the first, but this time there’s anticipation. You know
you’re going to like it, you’re eager to taste it again, and then you do. But what happens after that
second bite? The excitement begins to fizzle. It’s all downhill from there. I like three small courses
because you get the very best parts of the experience, and by the time you’re growing weary of it, it’s
over and on to the next.”
My spine is rigid by the end of his speech and I’m gripping the fork so tightly, I’m shocked the
metal doesn’t give. “Are you actually comparing me to a meal?”
“No. I’m telling you how it usually is for me. Now, I like a delicious meal as much as the next
person, but no matter how good it is, thinking about it doesn’t keep me up at night. I’m not
preoccupied with memories of the beautiful way it was spread out on the plate in front of me, I’m not
driven to distraction remembering the smell, trying to recall the taste.”
He pauses, his gaze never leaving mine. It makes my chest feel heavy, and the feeling intensifies
with his next words.
“So, when I tell you I haven’t decided yet, Hallie, I don’t mean I haven’t decided whether or not
I’ll taste you again. That’s a foregone conclusion—I will, it’s only the ‘how’ and ‘when’ that are up
for debate. And I’m only still pondering that because you do keep me up at night. I can’t put another
meal on the table and forget about you. I don’t know why that is, but it doesn’t matter. I want you,