Sonata (Butcher and Violinist 2)

What’s your soft spot, Lion? How will I stop you from bothering us?

Those were my last thoughts, as I held Eden close to me and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Chapter 6

Hindsigh

Rafael

Jean-Pierre thought of Paris as a gorgeous woman, but I knew Paris was a man. And I wasn’t into men, but I knew a man when I saw one. A good-looking one too.

And Paris, although masculine, took the average woman’s breath away. It was something about the air and water. Something about the fire in the streets and the richness of the grounds that ancient royals had walked upon.

And tonight, I stood inside the belly of that handsome, scented devil.

Giorgio stepped to my side. “My meeting with Jean-Pierre took longer than I expected.”

“You told him about the dead roommate?” I asked.

Giorgio nodded. “Is this where Shalimar’s tracker was located?”

“Yeah.”

We both stared at Forum des Halles. It was a park, an underground mall, and below that, a huge subway station.

For centuries it had been Paris’s central marketplace. Back then, they’d called it

Les Halles. Parisians had bought and sold all types of goods and services. Later, food became the market’s specialty. Author Emile Zola, had once called it “the Belly of Paris.”

But then Paris grew. The marketplace crowded. The hundreds of stalls became a logistical problem. In the 60s, the city moved the stalls to a suburban area. What was left of Les Halles, was a big empty hole in the ground and rightfully, the Parisians were appalled. Ten years later, the city filled the hole with a beautiful park on ground level. A shopping mall sat underneath the park, boasting stores, restaurants, a discotheques, museums and movie theaters. The world’s largest underground subway station.

I shook my head. “It was smart of Shalimar to call from here. She could’ve been anywhere, when she did.”

“Even on the subway.”

“If she could get service that far below.”

“We must be patient.” Giorgio gestured for us to leave. “We have the address for her location that she wants Eden to meet at. We’ll show up there tomorrow.”

“Do we still have people monitoring that line? She could still use the phone later.”

“Yes. It’s probably a burner she uses for emergencies. Either way, we have several people watching.” He stuck his hand in his pocket, pulled out a mint, and offered me one. “Would you like one?”

“Why do you always offer me a mint?”

“What do you mean?”

“You never offer Jean-Pierre one. Are you trying to say that my breath stinks?”

Sighing, Giorgio popped a mint into his mouth. “You’re being anxious. Focus on something else besides this problem.”

“A mint is not going to solve this. Someone’s killing people and it looks like they’re searching for Shalimar and Eden. I don’t know why Shalimar just won’t contact me.”

“She may think we’re behind the killings.”

“She doesn’t.” I walked off. “She hates me.”

Giorgio followed. “You sure you don’t want a mint?”

“Fuck your mints!”

We headed to the limo parked a few feet away and then got in.

There was a time, when I thought I wanted a different life. A life with Shalimar. But that changed the day she ripped my heart out. Granted, I broke her heart first.

She slung a lamp at me. “Why would you sleep with the twins? Why?!”

“I…. listen. . .” I ducked as she threw several books at me. “Shalimar, would you—”

“Never again.” She pointed at me and screamed. “I will never love you! Don’t come near me. Don’t ask Celina to be with me. Stay the fuck away from me.”

“Shalimar?” I jumped back as she threw an empty bottle my way and stormed off.

The bottle hit the wall.

The door slammed.

And my heart went right with her.

I’d never got my heart back.

It had been almost three years ago. Granted, I deserved her silent treatment and hate for the first year. But the second year should’ve gave me a little leeway to return.

There was none.

Shalimar blocked off all means of communications, even silently scowling at me whenever I attempted to talk to her. I grew that second year. I appreciated her more. I looked at women differently. I tried to change.

And now the third year had arrived. She was still silent and unyielding. Still avoiding and blocking. Still hating and rebuking. This had shifted into cruel punishment with no release in sight.

Fine, Shalimar. You don’t want me. You can at least give me back my heart.

A man that lived with no heart, did not live at all. He moved in a state of recklessness. His soul became callous. His mind remained consumed by darkness.

And now you pop up in Paris? Have you brought my heart with you?

Shalimar had come to my city. The same woman who destroyed my ego. And Paris, was not a beautiful woman. Paris was a handsome, alluring-scented man more than ready to beguile and lure the lost into sinful corruption.