Jaspierre's Last Chance (Jaspierre Trilogy Book 3) Page 2

  She walked down the concrete steps to the maze and the little prison. She could smell the stink of the room before she even reached the bottom. It smelled like sweat, shit, and urine. She stared into the maze; the white platforms and walls could move at her command if she so chose. No longer white, they were smeared with dirt and blood and who knew what else. Inside the maze were people, at least Jaspierre thought they were people. They had been altered, taken apart, and put back together in a variety of ways. Those 3-D printers had been put to quite a bit of use. She wondered idly if he had finished Mother's work. But it looked like he had done his own variations. Outrageously long noses, tails, oversized ears. One lady had breasts that looked like long snakes. Would it have killed him to make a sheeple? All these people warped into creatures, and he refused to finish Mother's work. They were sneaking around the maze, avoiding each other. She wondered what they were doing in there. She turned and glanced at the three rooms on the right. In the first room, in Lucas's room, Arnold sat on the little cot. He looked the same as ever, thin and nervous. His room looked as tidy as he could get it. But also, it seemed that he had not been shown his bathroom.

  In the room in the middle, a large Asian man was chained to the pairs of rings that went up the wall. He looked angry and wild. In the final room, a skinny redheaded girl sat. She had apparently gone under some sort of surgery and had her arms and back wrapped with bandages. Jaspierre wasn't exactly sure what to do with all of these people, so she left them. She had such a mess to deal with--the house, the people--and that didn't even include Dru.

  She went back up the fireplace steps, carefully leaving the door exactly as it was. Then she walked out to the barn. The brick steps seemed about the same, nothing particularly special about them. The barn had no animals left in it. The ferrets, rabbits, mice, rats, and all the other feed for the servals were gone. The cages were gone, and in their place were several ways to detain people. A drugged man stood sleeping with his hands raised above his head, held by some sort of chain.

  She walked past him quickly; she didn't want anyone to tell Dru that she had been here. She had to come up with a plan to deal with him. Peering at the operating theater, she saw both 3-D printers were whirring away. Printing up something, probably something to attach to that man. She stepped inside and peered at the pieces. They didn't look particularly special to her, nothing recognizable. The printer slowly spurted out tiny strings of DNA. Whatever it was looked... fleshy. She stepped back out of the theater and slid along the wall, pulling on the secret latch. Mother's office looked exactly the same. In fact, the only thing that had changed were more files and notebooks in another file cabinet. He apparently was taking notes and keeping records on all of the men and women that he was experimenting on. Dru was extremely like Mother in that way.

  She walked to the garage that contained all of her vehicles, intending to take whichever one would be the most unlikely for anyone to notice missing. She'd hide out at a hotel room tonight and decide what to do. But her cars were gone, the garage was empty. Fifteen, maybe sixteen of them? That was a lot of cars to be missing. Fuck.

  She supposed she'd have to get a cab again. She'd rather poke out her own eye with a fork. What the fuck had he done with her cars?

  Chapter

  Four

  She decided to stay at a Motel Eight. Not really her normal style, but she it was a subtle place to hide. In the morning, she'd go speak with her banker so that she could buy another vehicle. How had Dru disposed of all of them? Sold them, likely. It was so irritating. Maybe she should report them all as stolen. Could she even remember what vehicles she owned? Their paperwork was in the safety deposit box, she thought. However, the key for that had been in her room.

  It occurred to her that her key must have been stolen, and the title papers, and thus the cars. Perhaps they would even be considered a legal sale. What the hell was she supposed to do? And her guests. She couldn't burn twenty people in the fireplace. Besides, they weren't even dead. What a pain in the ass. She had no beef with these people; she didn't exactly desire to execute them. However, the giant investigation in her house would be a total nightmare, and to be sure, an investigation would follow. Elephant nose fellow would trumpet around that he had been mutilated at her house in her mansion. She'd never have a moment of peace again. So what the hell were her choices?

  She asked for the largest room at the Motel Eight. She went up to whatever it was they called their penthouse suite. It had two king-size beds and a little kitchenette. And a hot tub, already full of water. Gross. But the room had plenty of space for push-ups and sit-ups. She was well into three hundred jumping jacks when it finally came to her. She could drug all those people and dump them somewhere. Of course, if Dru had been an idiot and let them know where her house was, then she'd still be fucked. There would still be an investigation. So maybe she'd have to interrogate them before she set them free. That seemed reasonable. Only execute the few that would hurt her or identify her. They'd just be people who experienced random acts of violence; they could work it out themselves. Well, one problem down, one left. What the fuck was she going to do with Dru?

  Obviously, he needed to be punished. But how? How exactly was she going to destroy him? She really had to think it through. Maybe she should talk to Arnold before she let him go. Oh yeah, maybe she couldn't let him go. He knew too much. Of course, she never really had a beef with him. They'd have to talk it out. She sat on the floor and started on sit-ups. She wasn't exactly keen on killing. It was too much of a fucking pain in the ass to go to prison. Keeping people alive was useful for that reason alone. Perhaps prison had made her gun shy. She knew it was rare to murder and then land in the can. In fact, of all the people she had met, she was the only one who actually ended up doing time after killing someone. Plus she learned a lot, and frankly, that was a freak accident--a cop showing up the very moment she had shot a man. As anyone who speeds regularly knows: sometimes, a cop will issue a ticket.

  She rolled over and decided to do another hundred-set of push-ups. It was so nice to be out. And look, she hadn't even been obsessing over Tessa or Ikali or Lucille. She had so many other problems. This might have made her sad, except she really needed a break from thinking about Lucille. She would find Lucille and Chance soon. Suddenly, she froze mid push-up.

  Tessa and Ikali. What had happened to them? How could she just brush off them missing? She collapsed to the ground and drew herself into a ball. Had she grown so cold that her closest companions no longer mattered to her? No, it wasn't that. She had been gone a long time. She couldn't spend another moment crying. Her home was ruined, Dru had destroyed her job, her family was gone. Tessa, Ikali, Pierre, Lucas, and Lucille. She didn't cry because if she got started, she would never ever stop. She counted to ten slowly and then started another round of sit-ups. It was time for her heart to grow cold. Vengeance would be hers.

  In the morning, Jaspierre got a cab to go to the bank. What she found out horrified her more than anything else that happened. All she had left in her account was five hundred thousand dollars. Five hundred fucking thousand dollars. Where were her millions? Where were her billions? She was bankrupt. Holy shit, she couldn't even liquidate her assets--her cars had already been sold. Not that she would ever consider selling her house--but it turned out Dru had somehow managed to get a lien on her home. Was her company no longer profitable? She owned most of the shares; that alone should have been giving her ten million dollars or so every year. Her job as CEO paid out another twenty million or so. She didn't exactly pay attention to the pennies and dimes.

  At this very moment, she really wished she had. She really wished she had paid attention to the pennies and the dimes that Dru had been pilfering from her very pocket. He had squandered all her money. It was extremely unlikely that he would be able to pay her back in any lifetime. Much less his very shortened lifetime. She tried to count to ten but couldn't focus. Five hundred thousand dollars would not even be enough to fix her home. She cring
ed at the idea of having to live in that wonderful house with her smashed servals, her destroyed bed, her cut-down bushes, and unpolished floors. Were there any cars that cost under a hundred thousand? She had to get her job back. And she had to make them pay.

  It seemed that she would have to ambush the little monster. Her cell phone suddenly rang. She was so startled she practically fell over. She checked it, and it was Edward.

  "Hi," she said in a dreary tone.

  "Hey, I wanted to see how your first day out was going."

  "Well, the house is a bit of a mess. So I've got some stuff to work out," she said.

  "How is the office?"

  "Things have changed around there a little. But I think it'll all get smoothed out soon enough."

  "Has Chance tried to contact you?" he asked nervously.

  "Are you calling as a cop? Or are you calling as a friend?"

  "Which one do you want me to call as?"

  "I don't need a cop. Although I might be able to tolerate a friend. That said, no, Chance hasn't said hello. I almost wish he would."

  "You know what? On the one hand, I wish he would so we could find Lucille. On the other hand, I am just so damn happy that you are not in danger," he said, relief flooding his voice.

  "Yeah, at least I'm safe," she lied to him. She wouldn't be safe until Dru was locked up, and his experiments removed from her house, and Chance killed. But, whatever made him happy. "See ya around."

  "Okay," he said. She hung up the phone and lay back on the cheap motel bed. She was out of prison but broke, and she needed to catch fucking Dru. She was going to punish that man.

  Chapter

  Five

  Dru drove up to the mansion, to his mansion, in the sporty black Lexus. He hopped out and stepped inside the unlocked doors. He had had another successful day at work. That company tossed money at him like he was the king of the world. He had never been a wealthy man before, but it had grown on him quickly.

  He shut the door behind him and shouted, "Hey, ladies, I'm back." They didn't reply; probably still drugged or asleep. He didn't really care. These were the best years of his life. He thought about what he was printing in the barn. He decided to try to make elephant ears to put on that man in the barn. If that worked out, he could add a nose and have a proper elephant man. He had been thinking about how exactly to attach them when he heard a little clattering rattle. Were the ladies awake? He walked up the large marble steps on the right past Jaspierre's room with a sneer. He walked all the way down to Severina's room.

  "Ladies?" He peered in, but they weren't there. He turned, walking back down the long hallway, down the marble steps, and into the kitchen. He grabbed an apple and started munching. It wasn't a good one, so he set it on the counter and grabbed a different one. This one was green, so hopefully, it would have a little more flavor. He crunched into it. It was sweet and tart, an excellent apple. A long scraping rattle called him again. It sounded like metal scuttling against something. Which room was it coming from?

  Could be the library or near the pool. He decided to walk down by the pool. Hopefully, the ladies were skinny-dipping. "Ladies?" He walked past the elaborate dining hall and towards the pool. He didn't see anything or anyone. Well, maybe they had gone downstairs to the prison. Seemed kind of an odd choice, but who was he to judge the ladies?

  He wished he could recall their names, but other than remembering that they were slutty, he couldn't come up with any other details. The scrape paused for a moment and then rattled louder. It was definitely a metal-scraping-on-something sound near the kitchen. Honestly, it was kind of creeping him out. Not that he'd want to admit that. Hopefully, no one had gotten out of the basement. What if the ladies let out that big Asian man? That guy was pissed.

  As he walked towards the kitchen, he saw Jaspierre. She was thin, muscular, and she was staring into his eyes in the most terrifying way. In her right hand, she held a long sword. The tip of the sword was rattling behind her on the marble floor. She didn't say anything; she just walked towards him, eyes locked on his, a frozen half-grin on her face. When did she get out!?

  He turned and ran to the front door, grabbing it and trying to open it. Fuck this shit. He was getting the fuck out of here. But the door wouldn't open. It was locked. He had not locked it. It was one of the few doors that he could not figure out how to lock. But Jaspierre knew how to lock it. He turned and looked and she was steadily and calmly walking towards him, blade rattling behind her. He scrambled up the marble steps. What he needed was time to figure out a plan.

  "Hi, Jaspierre. I wasn't expecting to see you." His feet were practically tripping over each other as he scrambled down the hall, frantically looking for an exit. "How was prison? I'm sorry I haven't visited in the last few months... it's been busy."

  She didn't say anything. But her smile grew creepier and her sword seemed to rattle louder and more intensely. Dru kept envisioning the blade slipping into his stomach and his guts falling out of him onto the floor. Would he feel each coiled rope slip out from his belly? Or would the shocking pain of the blade be all he would feel?

  "Jaspierre, let's be reasonable now. You were in prison! I'm sorry the house is a mess, but this is fixable. We can work this out." He threw open the double doors to Severina's room, to his room. Maybe he could jump out the window? The clattering rattle skipping across the marble floor came closer and closer.

  He ducked into the closet. Maybe she wouldn't find him? Holy shit, this idea was terribly stupid. He racked his brains for another spot he could run to, but he couldn't think of anything. He glanced around the closet frantically. There had to be a hidden sword in here. Or perhaps some other way to defend himself. His gun! Had he put a gun in here? Shit.

  No, he put it in the dresser, next to all of Severina's old sex toys. Fuck. Jaspierre already stood in Severina's room. She was walking steadily and intently towards the closet. He grabbed the box that was sitting next to him, threw it at her head, and tried to run past her.

  She ducked easily and continued to follow at her slow, steady pace. Frantically, he let out a scream as he ran down the hall. He rattled the front door. Fuck. He ran towards the pool. He wasn't exactly sure what he was going to do at the pool. Maybe he could drown her? Maybe couldn't. His heart was racing. How would he even get her in the water? Fuck. What the hell was he supposed to do? That clacking scrape was catching up to him steadily. He struggled to make a decision. Finally, he decided to jump into the water himself. What was she going to do? Stab him while he swam? Ha.

  He swam towards the glass wall. He wasn't a particularly strong swimmer, but he only needed to swim under the glass to the outside pool. And then he could run to the front, hop in the Lexus, and get the fuck out. He dove down, his hands grasping the glass, pulling his body under and through, and he popped out the other side. He couldn't see her anywhere. Yes! He made it; he had escaped. He grinned and shook himself dry. Glancing behind him, he saw nobody. Like she could fucking catch him now!

  He walked briskly around to the front of the house, and just as he was making the last corner, she stood in front of him, staring at him with her cold, dead eyes and the half-grin smile. His heart dropped to his stomach. "Jaspierre, I think we should talk. It's not what you think! It's not. This is all just a big misunderstanding." She smiled and lifted the blade, pressing it to his chest. He raised both hands in surrender but frantically looked side to side. Couldn't he just run? Which way? If he could just get around her, he could hop into that car.

  She stood there, her grin growing. Sweat mixed with sour pool water dripped from his forehead. His clothes were wet and gushy. She backed off just a little, and he stepped around the corner of the house. She followed. He made a dash for the Lexus. He tugged on the handle, trying to rip open the door. But it was locked. The blade suddenly pressed against his back. He trembled but moved no further. She leaned in close, her lips pressed to his ear. "Aren't you going to welcome me home?" she whispered.

  She pressed the blade tigh
ter against his back and the tip slipped through his wet shirt and into his skin. He writhed in pain. It was like his soul had escaped his body. His scream echoed against the building. Death would be swift; as soon as she plunged that blade into him the second time, he wouldn't be around anymore. Her phone rang suddenly. Dru trembled. He was pinned to the car as she answered it.

  "Hello?" she said. After a brief pause, she answered, "Well, not tonight, but I'll come over tomorrow." She laughed. A long pause. While she was listening to whoever she was talking to, he tried to adjust his position. Maybe he could turn fast and then punch her in the face. He wasn't much of a fighter, but desperate times... "Okay, it'll be fun. See you then." She adjusted the blade as she dropped her cell phone back into her pocket. Dru let out a howl of pain.

  "This is just a misunderstanding, Jaspierre." He writhed with agony. Her face twisted with amused fury. She pulled something from her pocket and pressed a wet rag across Dru's face.

  "We are going to have so much fucking fun." She said. He couldn't reply; his world was already going dark.

  Chapter

  Six

  Jaspierre ran her fingers through her long hair. Once Dru was unconscious, she had to decide where to put him. Her maze and prison cells were full of people. She didn't particularly want to move any of them to the barn, and her three prison rooms had guests. She dragged him down the stairs anyway. Maybe she could move the redheaded girl to the maze.

  She thumped his body carelessly down the stairs and then remembered. Arnold. Well, worst-case scenario, they could bunk together. Best-case scenario, Arnold would help her out. One button press later: "Hey, Arnold. Why did Dru lock you down there?"