Sonata (Butcher and Violinist 2)

Goddamn it. Can’t I just get one minute of rest? To eat. To piss. To flirt with the damn chef.

And then the restaurant’s big front window filled with headlights. A V-8 engine roared. Louis spun around in the direction of the noise.

“Louis!” I ran his way.

The truck plowed through the window.

Shit!

I yanked Louis back.

An explosion of glass rained over us.

The truck’s big tires bulldozed the brickwork and then got lodged into the side wall, filling the place with dust. The driver moved the truck back and then tried to launch it forward again, doing his best to knock down the place.

“You motherfucker!” I jumped up and made sure Louis was okay.

Plaster fell from the ceiling.

My brain only had a second to register what had happened. Some ugly, Bratva bastard drove at the helm. Another sat in the passenger seat pulling out a shot gun. The front bumper had crashed into the aquarium, water and koi fish spilled out into the carpet.

Louis tried to pull me away. “Let’s go, Rafael.”

“Fuck this.” I stayed where I was, pointed, and shot the driver in the head. “I’m not running in my own city.”

They spat Russian back and shot at us.

One bullet came close to getting me in the arm.

“Suck my dick!” I pulled the trigger.

Louis shot the other in the head. But more trucks headed our way. And more sirens too.

There was no need to say anything else. Louis and I ran to the back, grabbed Gwen, met Jean-Pierre and everyone else, piled the limo, and sped off.

We should’ve never fucked with the Lion. This might be our downfall.

Mayhem filled the streets around a now crumbling Shalimar’s. Right in front of my restaurant, a battle had ensued—Bratva and Corsican. News helicopters picked up the scene. Police sped by us heading in that direction.

I don’t think Paris, or I will survive this. None of us will.

Chapter 18

Sex, Drugs, and Unicorns

Eden

I didn’t know how long I’d been trapped inside the couch.

Time passed in slow motion, when one sat in darkness.

I looked down at the dead body. “How much time has passed?”

Coughing, the dead man rolled his eyes as he often did. “Stop asking me that question. It reminds me of how long we’ve been here.”

“Sometimes it’s good to know how long you’ve been trapped.”

“Why?” The dead man coughed dust into his hand. “There’s no need to know how long you’ve been trapped, just as long as you get free. The days of freedom is what you count.”

“When I’m free, I’ll count them.” I scratched musical notes into the wooden wall.

The dead man didn’t say much, but when he did, he did so with a philosophical flair.

We talked a lot in those hours, or days, or maybe even minutes. Who knew how long I sat in here with him? The dead man had been a painter. He’d been married to his dead wife in the other couch for thirty years.

I was about to ask him about the secret to marriage, when the couch shook.

Oh God yes. Please, get me out of here! I don’t care, if it’s the devil. Anyone.

The top flung up.

The Devil’s face appeared, along with cool wind. “It smells in here.”

No embarrassment came my way. “Where else would I go to the bathroom?”

He yanked me out. “I see the princess still has her attitude.”

Should I be more compliant? You grabbed me, you monster.

He still wore the mask, but this time, red and orange flames spilled out of the sides, outlining his face. I didn’t know how he was able to do it.

Are the flames magic?

The Devil’s eyes glowed red. Long, black horns protruded from his forehead like a ram.

With those glowing red eyes, the Devil studied me. “Why is she looking at me like that?”

I whispered, “You are the Devil, but I’m not scared.”

The creepy guy who’d gave me the water, stood next to the Devil. “I may have put a little something in the water for fun. To warm her up.”

But aren’t they all creepy? I need names for the ones that are creepier than the rest. Demon names!

“What the hell did you give her?” the Devil growled at the other.

“A little plant from the motherland.”

“You put that shit in both bottles?”

“Yeah.” The guy laughed. “Fucking her will be even more fun now.”

The Devil pulled out a gun and shot the guy.

His body fell. Black worms appeared from the carpet in the thousands. They slid over his corpse and almost swallowed him. But, two men grabbed the dead man and hauled him off. And then the worms disappeared.

I didn’t move. It was hard enough to balance on my weak legs. It would be a minute, before I could run.

I’m going to either kill them or run. Shoot. We can all die together. I’ll set the place on fire. Set myself on fire and hug them close to me.