Sonata (Butcher and Violinist 2)

“Please, Shalimar. Just one more kiss.”

“Get away from me.”

Grunting, I backed up and spoke through clenched teeth, “If you won’t give me you, then give me answers.”

“I won’t give you anything, Rafael.”

“What about Eden?”

She rolled her eyes. “What about her?”

“Tell me what the danger is, so I can make sure—”

“Did Jean-Pierre make you come to me?”

“What?”

“Go!”

“This is stupid, Shalimar. Do you even have a plan?”

“Bigger than anyone that you could ever think of.”

“Meaning?”

“Stay out of Celina’s and my way, and you won’t get hurt.”

I laughed. “You’re the one that’s going to get hurt, if you think Celina has your back.”

As if unsure of herself for a few seconds, she bit her bottom lip. It drove me crazy. My cock jumped in my pants.

She walked around me.

I didn’t turn. All I could do was grip my cock.

I knew this wasn’t going to work, Jean-Pierre. I can’t hurt her, and I won’t force her to tell me. She knows that.

She said from behind, “You should leave now.”

I turned.

She had my own gun pointed at me.

Maybe, Giorgio should’ve come in here with me.

I leaned my head to the side. “You’re going to shoot?”

“I am.”

“Fine. I’ll go.” I put my hand out. “Before I leave then, give me my fucking heart back.”

The gun trembled in her hand. “I don’t have it.”

“You do. You fucking took it. You ripped it out of my damn chest and stomped on it with those red heels.

“Liar,” she whispered. “You didn’t have a heart when I met you.”

“Then, maybe I wasn’t born with one.”

“You weren’t.”

“Then, you were the one to show me that I was empty.”

“But you like empty, Rafael. That’s why you were inside those twins. I can still see the image of them sucking you off.” She lowered the gun and handed it to me. “Do you still think of them?”

“No.”

“You should. It was a hot sight. Your big dick getting licked by them both. And the look of ecstasy on your face. It was priceless.”

“Shalimar—”

“Leave.”

“I love you, Shalimar.”

“No. You love the idea of loving me. That’s all. Nothing more.”

“But Shalimar—”

“Just think of the twins, when your heart hurts. Put that image in your mind.”

“Fine.” I put my gun up. “I’ll think of them right now.”

“Good!” She called back. “Go ahead and call them up. I’m sure they’re just in Belladonna sucking someone else’s dick.”

“Who cares? I don’t even remember them.”

“Oh, you do.”

“Barely.”

“Can you see them in your mind, sucking you off?”

I gritted my teeth. “No. I don’t see them.”

“Lies! It’s all over your face. They’re in your head now.”

“But only because you put them there!”

“Leave!”

“Goddamn it!” I headed out of her place.

My men stepped out of my way as I marched out of there. I didn’t know why I’d even tried to reason with her. Three fucking years had passed, and she was still as pissed. What had I expected? Had she cheated on me; I would probably still be torturing the man three years later.

I made it to the car.

Giorgio stood outside with his phone. “The Yakuza are trying to get in touch with Jean-Pierre.”

I hurried to the driver’s side. “Why does the Japanese Mafia want to talk to Jean-Pierre?”

“They said they have a tip for him, but they only want to talk to him. The guy’s willing to wait on the phone for however long until he gets back.”

“Where is Jean-Pierre?”

“Off with Eden. I got them another reservation at, The Palace. They missed it again, probably ended up fucking in the limo the whole time.”

Well, at least someone is getting some love.

“How did it go with Shalimar?” Giorgio asked. “Did you find anything out?”

“She took my gun and pointed it at me.”

“Well, that’s better than expected.”

“Yeah. Yeah.” I drove off.

Chapter 12

Taken

Eden

We’d gone to see the lunar eclipse. Afterwards, we ditched the restaurant reservations again, and fucked in the limo. That vehicle was becoming my new bedroom. It was something enjoyable about having sex and speeding through Paris.

I loved it.

Minutes later, I cleaned up a little. Thanks to an extra pack of Giorgio’s wipe.

“I can’t believe Giorgio keeps these in the limo.”

Jean-Pierre watched me. “He has extra ones all over the place, as if we couldn’t just stop at a store.”

“I always thought he was a little OCD.”

Jean-Pierre chuckled. “A little is an understatement.”

“Why do you think he’s that way?”

“It’s strange. I thought he had it better than all of us, when we were kids. And then as we’ve become men, I wonder what happened to him behind closed doors.” Still on the limo floor he lay with my gown around us.

I rested my head on his shoulder. “Did he have a mean parent?”

“No. The opposite. My uncle was a religious man. Dad called him a hypocrite, but I believe he was just jealous of his brother.”

I raised my head to study the beautiful angle of Jean-Pierre’s face. The limo had continued to drive, taking a stop once for gas, and then cruising some more. The vehicle roamed through at a steady beat. It caused the streetlights to glow over his face as we passed by.