Sonata (Butcher and Violinist 2)

“What?” I hugged myself.

“Do we have time for this?” another said from behind us.

How many of them are there?

I scanned the room. At least twenty dark figures gazed back in black masks, looking more like shadowy creatures than human beings.

The Devil stomped my way. “Take off your clothes or I’ll take them off for you, and it won’t be that fun, baby.”

I trembled. “My…boyfriend will give you—”

“Anything I ever wanted, to have you back?” The Devil moved closer to me. “What if I wanted something that Jean-Pierre took from me and couldn’t give back?”

I opened my mouth, unsure of what to say.

The Devil took his mask off. Some of the men turned away.

I screamed at the sight.

His face was mangled, ripped up, and torn. He had a place for a nose, but none that would be called one. His forehead had grooves and step-like tissue on one side. His bottom lip was there, but not his top.

The Devil spoke other words in French, “This is what Jean-Pierre does, when he doesn’t approve of one’s behavior.”

I couldn’t speak.

The fire alarm continued to blare in the building.

He switched back to English. “Take the gown off!”

With shaking hands, I undressed.

One of the guys whistled, as a baby blue corset was exposed. I didn’t have on the thong. Jean-Pierre had ripped it up earlier. The garment now lay on the floor of his limo.

“Hand him the gown.” The Devil pointed at a man next to me.

I did.

Even though the others wore masks, I could tell that they were looking at my body. The angles and directions of their faces gave it away. One lifted his head to inhale, moving in closer.

Another said from the side, “It’s still on her.”

“It’s obviously the necklace.” One pointed at the violin resting at the center of my cleavage. “She doesn’t really have anywhere else to hide the codes.”

“Of course. It was the necklace.” The Devil reached his hand out to my breasts. “But that wouldn’t be much fun. Would it?”

I edged back.

He yanked me his way. “Stop moving, before I have all of them fuck that fat pussy, between those princess-pampered thighs.”

I could barely breathe.

“That probably would turn you on. Having all of them dirty their dicks with you.” He grabbed my hair hard and pulled my head back. With the other hand, he snatched the necklace away and threw it at the guy that had been holding my gown. “Check it.”

Another said, “The tracker moved.”

The man threw my gown on the floor before turning the pendant in his hand. “The code is in the back of the violin.”

Aunt Celina, what did you do?

“Open it up.” The Devil threw me to the ground and marched over to the man with my necklace.

I scrambled to my gown and put it on. On my side, two of the men watched me the whole time, not giving a damn about the codes.

I have to get out of here. No matter what. I won’t let them touch me. I won’t let them. . .

I directed my view to the balcony. That would be my path, if things got too. . .hard.

My heart boomed in my ears.

I’ll jump off the balcony, before I give the Devil the satisfaction of raping and killing me himself.

My heart hurt to think of that path. It ached. What would happen to my Dad who had already lost his wife and his mind? What would happen to Aunt Celina?

I stopped that thought. Anger rose.

They wanted the codes in that violin. Not me. This had nothing to do with Jean-Pierre, even if this guy hates him. This has nothing to do with me.

Did Aunt Celina tell Shalimar to give me those codes, or did Shalimar decide to do it herself?

“Misha said we can’t kill anymore.”

These were the men who killed my roommate and my cat.

I let out a long breath and gazed at the balcony again.

Better to die like I want to, then…

I turned back to the two men watching me. One had pulled out a knife and slid his hand along the blade. I was glad he wore a mask. He was probably smiling. There must’ve been desire on his face, because his pants showed a bulge.

You sick motherfucker. You won’t touch me. You won’t touch me.

“It’s only one of the codes. There are two small compartments. That was what Misha said.” The Devil walked back over to me. “Where’s the rest?”

“I…I didn’t even know that was in the violin.”

He rushed over, lifted me up, and pushed me into the wall. “Lies.”

“I’m telling the truth.”

“Of course she is.” The one who’d been ogling me and playing with his knife rose. “Clearly, neither Jean-Pierre nor she knew what was on her neck. You think he would have allowed it?”

The Devil nodded. “Still, I want more answers. Who gave you the necklace?”