Descent (Black Heart Romance)

“Most people probably think they would never do something like that at the beginning, but then life happens. Passions fade, interest drifts...”

“Only an imbecile driven purely by whim and unable to control himself wanders off a path he has committed to unintentionally. I’m many things, but not an imbecile. I assure you, you can take my word to the bank on this. That is not something I will ever do to you.”

I believe he means it. I even find his reasoning somewhat reassuring. “Would you put it in writing?” I ask lightly.

His brow furrows. “Writing?”

“A fidelity contract. I’m sure I’ll have to sign a pre-nup, right? Put a clause in there that nullifies the whole thing if you cheat on me.”

If he even remotely didn’t mean it, there’s no way he’d do something like that. I don’t know how much he’s worth, exactly, but I know it’s a lot.

“Sure,” he says easily.

I raise my eyebrows, a little impressed with how unconcerned he is about all of it.

The limo turns and my stomach sinks a bit. I know this road well because it’s the road that leads to mine, but I usually take the long way so I don’t have to drive by his street.

I know it’s not his street anymore, but as we pass it, I still find myself glancing down the road Mark’s mom and stepdad used to live on. I wonder if they still do.

I wonder if he lives here, too. When I was looking at his profile, his town wasn’t listed, so I don’t know if he migrated back here after he ran out of money in the college party town he moved to.

“What’s on your mind?” Calvin asks.

I glance at him. “I just don’t like this place.” I shake my head. “The whole town. It’s where Mom lives, but it’s not home anymore. Hasn’t been for a long time.”

The dark clouds pass when we turn onto the street I grew up on. It looks a little different with Calvin here. I notice things I normally wouldn’t—the broken shingles on the little brown house at the top of the street, the rusty stain dripping down the side of a house-turned-makeshift apartment complex. We pass another house-turned-apartment with shabby front steps and last year’s Christmas lights strung up even though it’s late summer.

I wonder what he thinks of the place. I know Calvin grew up with money, so I wonder if he pictured the place I grew up a little nicer.

I push away the anxious thought. I don’t think it will really matter to him. He knew I came from a modest upbringing.

I glance around as Hollis stops at the last stop sign before my house. On instinct, I glance right, then left, to look for a car.

Only when I look left, my sight catches on something strangely familiar. A big beige house with a wraparound porch.

My heart seizes when I see that porch.

Sinks into my gut when I notice the dingy blue Knicks flag hung up beside the front door.

My chest tightens. I try to breathe, but I can’t.

“Hallie.”

I hear Calvin’s voice, but it’s not enough to pull me out of it.

It can’t be.

It can’t be.

He knows where my mom lives. He picked me up from there a couple of times. There’s no way that selfish bastard actually bought the house four houses down from my mom’s.

“Hallie.”

There’s more urgency in Calvin’s tone this time as he sits forward.

I try to stop it, but I can’t control my body. I can’t make myself breathe. Panic sets in and the suffocating feeling intensifies.

Calvin is off the seat and sitting beside me a moment later.

The car slows to a stop because we’re right in front of my mom’s house.

“Hallie, breathe,” Calvin says firmly, looking me in the eyes. His voice is calm and grounded. Once I lock eyes with him, he inhales slowly and exhales through his mouth, as if to show me how to do it.

I draw a shallow breath, my eyes not leaving his.

He models breathing for me again—the simplest fucking thing and I can’t seem to do it.

“You’re okay,” he promises, still holding my hands and my gaze. “Breathe in slowly. Deeply. Now, let it out.”

We go through the same repetitive motions a few more times, but it helps having him here, so steady, so calmly reminding me what to do.

Once the panic subsides and I can breathe again, I sit there looking down at my shoes so I don’t have to look at him. I feel ridiculous and embarrassed. He must think I’m crazy now.

His voice still calm, probably because he doesn’t want to set me off, he says, “Tell me what just happened.”

I clear my throat, but still refuse to look up at him. “Once in a while I have panic attacks.”

“Randomly?”

I shake my head. “Something always triggers them. I was on the verge of one the night I went out with Lance, when he tried to kiss me after dinner. Arson interrupted, and my body forgot what it was doing or something, I don’t know.”