Jaspierre's Last Chance (Jaspierre Trilogy Book 3) Page 6
He handed the nervous cashier some cash, his eyes still not leaving Jaspierre's frightened mug shot. She was truly beautiful; she could've been a model if she wanted that kind of life. Or perhaps an actress. Although being a dreamily rich heiress was pretty damn good too. He thought about Lucille and Peter. But before he got very far, the lady handed him a pile of ones. Fourteen of them, to be exact. "What the hell? Do you have any tens? Or fives?" A bite of anger curled up his throat. Why would this bitch give him a pile of ones like he was some sort of stripper? The lady didn't even reply; she just backed up.
"It's the middle of the fucking day. How can you not have any fives or tens?" He slammed his fist on the counter this time. Ten minutes later, he left the gas station with all the cash from the cash register stuffed in his pockets, and her broken body slumped on the floor.
Twenty hours to go.
Chapter
Thirteen
Jaspierre waited what felt like an eternity, but in reality was about an hour, for Dru to wake up. During that hour, she paced uncomfortably in her control room. She stared at the circus freaks huddled nervously around each other. She found herself doing push-ups, sit-ups, and anything else she could think of. Fucking asshole passed out. Where the hell were Tessa and Ikali? They had to be dead. Dru had shown her pictures throughout the years about how well they were doing. When had he given them up? No one would take in servals and even if they did, they would not know how to take care of them. Absolutely outrageous, the thought of her cats sitting with some other incapable, poor owner.
Speaking of being poor, she ran her bank account numbers across her mind. Ten more pushups, this time one-handed. It hadn't been long, but surely her office would want to know why their precious CEO had vanished.
She had made too many mistakes, one after another. When she first went to trial, she relied on Dru; he seemed so warm and helpful in that first year. He promised Tessa and Ikali were well taken care of, and even brought pictures once a month. He showed up religiously on Sundays as though she was some sort of church. He'd listen to her incoherent ramblings, and he would reassure her.
Reassure her about anything and everything. He promised he had an investigator searching for Lucille. He promised. He promised her servals were safe and happy and well fed. He promised her business was being well looked after and brought her notes.
But slowly, his visits faded from weekly to monthly, and then in the last six months, she had barely seen him at all.
She had gotten a bit worried but not as alarmed as she should have been. He explained he was busy, and things were well. She worried a bit that he was mismanaging things, or had grown disinterested in her, but she had no idea it had gotten to this point. That it had shifted from minor mismanagement to absolute thievery. Had there ever been an investigator? How many checks had she written to the man for stuff that never existed?
Had the cats been fed? How many checks had she written to take care of them? And how exactly was the rest of the money in her accounts emptied? Even with all the checks she had written for thousands upon thousands, her account had been positively bursting at the seams when she went to prison.
What had happened to the ruppies? They were Mother's work--part dog, part rabbit. Beautiful creations. He had been giving reports on how well they had done. Four ruppies, each with lovely names: Sarah, Kurt, Beyonce, and Toto. She had pictures, she had names, and reports on their growth.
As she considered these things, she remembered that the reports had been written in Arnold's peculiar handwriting. The way he carefully crossed his Zs right in the middle with a perfect dash. She would have to ask him how they got the pictures. It was so hard after all these years to watch everything crumbling before her eyes. She should have known better; she should have realized that he was destroying her.
Lucille had been killed by Chance. What would Lucille think to know that Jaspierre had done nothing to find her? She "thought" she had done something, but she had done nothing. It was horrifying. Jasp paused mid pushup to swallow back the bile that was forming in her throat. The panicky feeling that made her want to claw her own skin off her body was peppering at the back of her mind.
Mother was strong, brilliant, and, dare she say it, evil. Jaspierre had vowed to do better for her daughter and in fact she had done worse than any mother had ever done. Lucille had been snatched from her mere moments after her birth. How could this be? How could she have let this be?
Her mind whirled back to her missing servals. They were her constant comfort. Even in prison, she was convinced that they would be there for her. She called their names in her sleep. Her safest thought was that she had not lost everything. She had two precious pieces of her family left.
And it turned out to be a lie. They were gone, they were gone. Dead or mutilated. Someone probably skinned them just for a bit of fur. Nobody could have possibly loved them like she did. She found herself gasping with hysterical sobs. How could being out feel so horrible? How dare it be so horrible?
Her terrible sobs were broken by a laugh. Not her laugh; Dru's laugh. "Are you crying?" he said, still her puppet in his cell. "You're crying!" He laughed harder.
That fucking bastard. She pulled from the console slot a long sharp blade. Fuck him and all his fucking shit.
She stormed down the spiral staircase into the smooth hallway. Her hand pressed tightly to the wall, warming it slightly until the door slid open. Dru hung like a retired marionette, his limbs limp. His mouth still dripped with blood.
She pressed the tip of the blade to his forehead and lifted his sagging head to look at hers. Her tears were still wet on her cheeks. "Dru. I want to know what happened to Tessa and Ikali."
"I bet you do. You are just like her, you know? Just like Severina. You deserve every fucking bit of trouble you get yourself into," he seethed at her, his head barely able to hold itself up. He tried to pull back so the blade wouldn't cut, but the blade slipped through his skin, tapping at his skull.
"Don't talk about Mother!" she screamed. It was so desperately difficult to keep the blade from leaping to his stomach, pulling his guts open. It begged her, it demanded her. It needed to bite into his flesh, deeper. Her fingertips gripped the blade tightly, begging it to wait, wait until she knew where her precious pets were. Trembling, she said, "Dru. I want to know what happened to Tessa and Ikali." Her voice grew fierce with each repeated word.
"Severina never had an attachment to pets. She never had an attachment to you either. She said we should skin you and see if you were as shitty on the inside as you were on the outside."
Jaspierre gasped. Not because he said Mother threatened to skin her. Mother threatened a great many things and it wasn't a surprise to Jaspierre in the least. She was shocked because he said we. We should skin you. It began to register in her mind that he knew Mother, like he really knew her, not a little but a lot.
"Mother?" She couldn't seem to say anything else. The word lingered on her lips, and the tip of her sword lowered in surprise.
"Severina. Your mother. My lover."
"She fucked a lot of men, so I wouldn't exactly say that means anything," Jaspierre snorted back. But she was still uncertainly holding the blade.
"Severina was my wife." All the blood rushed to Jaspierre's ears, and she couldn't hear anything. Her face grew hot and red. His wife? Mother had been married?
Chapter
Fourteen
"You couldn't have been married to Mother," Jaspierre said, but the confidence in her voice suddenly faded. How could she possibly know that?
"I was married to Severina." He smiled a bloody smile, coughing slightly so little flecks of blood flew into the air.
"I don't believe you!" Jaspierre shouted, dropping the blade and reaching for the chain.
"I knew Jasper! I knew Pierre. I helped her build this very room. It used to be accessed by a door in her bedroom!" He suddenly was shouting too. Her fingertips lingered on the chain, ready to hoist him up and drop him like a hot potato.
"I don't believe you," Jaspierre said quietly, tears forming in her eyes, threatening to spill over. How could he know Mother? How could she have been married? "You liar." Her voice grew low and hateful.
"I'm not lying! It's true. I can tell you all about her. I can tell you everything you've wanted to know." His eyes connected with hers and, for a painful moment, she remembered she had thought about having sex with this man. With this same man Mother fucked. Her hands trembled, but that flash of anger spurred her to action.
She threw her weight into the chain and he let out a scream of protest before he fell. His body flopped at the end with a nasty thwack. "Dru. I want to know what happened to Tessa and Ikali." Her head was screaming Mother. The thumping in her head grew loud and she knew it was her heart. Sweat was forming on her back. How could he know Mother! A scream burrowed within her chest. The urge to tear away at her skin with her fingertips grew so strong that her right hand twitched.
"What happened to Tessa and Ikali!" she shouted, ignoring Mother. Avoiding her. It reminded her of one night when she was a little girl and she tried, she desperately tried to get a drink of water without Mother finding out. Tiptoed to the kitchen, carefully climbed the counter, gently lifted a glass. Pausing every breath to listen. And Mother somehow was there. She was there in the kitchen, watching Jaspierre. She waited for her to be precariously balanced, holding that glass, sneaking to the sink. She waited. And then she struck, her pointed stiletto piercing her skin. How had Jaspierre missed her? She had scanned the room. She had been as silent as a fairy. Mother seemed to just be. She defied all logic. Somehow she was in that room again, sneaking for water, Mother lurking nearby, waiting to strike.
"Where are they? You will tell me!" She threw her weight into the chain again, lifting him up, and he started to beg. But it was too little too late, and he crashed back down the end of his string. Dance, you motherfucking marionette.
"Stop," he whimpered, tears running down his face. "Please, please. I'll tell you. Just let me go."
"Wrong answer, fuck-face." She leaned into the chain again.
"No!" he shouted, gasping with pain. "They are at the zoo! Stop, please. Don't!" He let out a soft scream as he fell back down, the chain snagging around his belly, blood coughing out his mouth. He was still weeping loudly when she closed the fireplace shut.
She shuddered, her body trembling with adrenaline. Dru could not know Mother. She was running, through her office, through the foyer. He could not. She faltered on the stairs, tripping and slamming into a step. Letting out a shout, she raced to the shower.
Her fingertips scrubbed at her skin, the hot water steaming the glass. She couldn't breath. She grew frantic, scrubbing harder and harder. How dare he lie to her. How dare he say he knew Mother. Gasping for air. He could not possibly have married her! The scrubbing turned into clawing; long scratches grew dark red on her arms.
No.
She gritted her teeth and resisted the urge to continue. Go find Tessa and Ikali. You'll feel much better.
Her hands trembled as she turned off the water. The desire to scratch was so strong. Mother fucked everyone up. Still naked and dripping, she morphed the energy into pushups, one after another until she was winded and sore, and yet she pressed on. The frantic pace hurt, but she kept at it until her body collapsed underneath her. And then, she cried.
Her desperate clinging to Tessa and Ikali dulled the pain of the loss of Lucille. The deep, unrelenting pain. She was alone. Mother was dead, Lucas was dead, Lucille was surely dead. All she had was her servals, Tessa and Ikali, and even they could be dead.
She rummaged through her few outfits, finally slipping on the grey t-shirt dress. Her arms were like Jell-O, weak from the effort of the pushups. She restlessly slept a few hours on the bed, and at six in the morning she awoke, ready to go. Slowly, she went downstairs, grabbed an apple, and ate it while she walked to her car. Time to go to the zoo.
The car purred beneath her foot, and she sped off to get her babies back.
Chapter
Fifteen
Jaspierre stood staring into the serval pen. There was only one serval in the pen. It did not look up at her. She wasn't sure if it was Ikali or Tessa or some other serval. It would not look up at her. She couldn't bring herself to call out either of their names and instead just stared at the miserable cat.
The pen didn't seem nearly large enough. There were no waterfalls and just a small bowl of dry food sitting in the corner. The serval looked thin and miserable, lifeless almost. Most certainly it hadn't chased a mouse or rabbit or squirrel in years. The way it was sitting, curled up, with its back to her, she wondered if it was sickly. Maybe it was tired of being looked at.
She stared at the pen. It was an open pen with a long drop into the cage. But the edge was a fence, then a concrete fall guard, then much father down was the grass area for the servals. Thirty feet? Fifty feet? She wasn't sure.
Which one was it? Tessa or Ikali?
Hot shame ran across her face. Shouldn't she be able to tell? She had slept with them in her bed for years, she had fed them when they were babies. Why couldn't she recognize the backside of her pet?
She whispered, "Tessa?" And clicked her tongue a few times. "Tessa? Ikali?"
The serval's ear twitched, but it didn't lift its head.
"Tessa?" she said a bit louder. The ear twitched again. "Ikali?"
In a remarkably slow manner, the cat yawned and stretched, butt in the air towards Jaspierre. "Psst," she hissed at it. "Tessa? Ikali?"
Finally, the cat turned around. Its long striped and spotted body looked lean. There was a large patch of fur missing from its belly. Jaspierre's eyes narrowed in irritation. Was it sick?
The serval looked at her, and she at it. Recognition hit her immediately. "Ikali!" she shouted, startling the family next to her. He let out a growl and sniffed the air. "Ikali?" she said back with a whisper. He started pacing anxiously, letting out a yowling meow. Shit. She had upset him. He wanted out, and he wanted out now.
He quickly grew frantic, howling at the top of his lungs, pacing back and forth, running in circles. The idiot attendees of the zoo took pictures and commented on how pretty he was. He was thin, sickly, missing fur, and howling in anger, and they were taking pictures! She gripped the railing tightly, completely furious. Where was Tessa? What happened to her? Ikali was increasingly upset until a zoo official came over. He tossed a raw piece of meat, but Ikali ignored it, hissing loudly. He violently charged the zookeeper and ended up with a loud thwacking crack at his skull. The zookeeper had a long metal prod he slapped Ikali with. The cat backed up, growling and howling. A large crowd was gathering. Ikali was hissing and the zookeeper prodded him with the stick, pushing him towards a metal door. The cat tried to fight but visibly gave up after a loud shocking zap. He slinked, his tail between his legs, into the small door. A few minutes later, a different serval slipped out another door. This one was young and wrestled a little toy ball.
Could Tessa be inside?
Jaspierre slowly counted to ten, her heart still beating up her throat. How could they treat her gorgeous family this way? Once she had control of herself, she walked to the building attached to the serval pen. There was a viewing room inside. She entered and in the crowd of guests, she saw several small glass pens. In the center of the room was Tessa on a leash. The demonstrator made her leap up and catch a toy he tossed. Tessa's ears perked up and her eyes snapped to Jaspierre. She let out a long hissing sound and prowled forward. She looked angry and hurt.
Jaspierre stepped closer into the audience sitting around the platform. The zookeeper yanked the chain on Tessa's neck, and she turned and hissed at him. Her large paw shot out and swiped, tearing at his leg. Tessa was going frantic, suddenly wrestling at the end of the leash. Her teeth bared, and her long sharp claws swiped harder at the zookeeper. His leg was gushing. He couldn't control her. Two more zookeepers suddenly showed up, and a security guard started ushering the audience out the door.
Jaspierre found herself pressed against a wall, trying not to be swept up in the tide of people frantically hiding their children's eyes from the gore. Tessa was surrounded.
"What the hell? She's always been so docile!" She hissed again at the man on the end of her leash; he was whimpering and blood was dripping off his shoe. She leapt on him, biting his neck. Jaspierre couldn't help but grin. Tessa, beautiful Tessa, was taking down her captor. Frantically, one zookeeper tried to pull her off the man she was slaughtering. The other one pulled out a large taser, barbed and angry on the end of the stick. The room was clearing even faster now. Screaming children grew quieter as their parents dragged them out of the room. The security guard finally noticed Jaspierre and started to walk towards her. He kept pointing at her, then pointing at the door.
Tessa let out a loud yowling cry of pain as the taser sharply crackled in her skin. She turned and swiped the knees of the man. The zookeeper under her was already dead, blood still gushing. She was so focused on the one with the taser that she missed the zookeeper on the other side, yanking her chain, cracking a long stick at her. Jaspierre's eyes connected with Tessa's as she let out another cry of pain. Could she have cried "help me" any louder?
Now. It was now. No planning, just get her cats home.
Jaspierre's blade practically flew to her hand and quickly gutted the security guard. The room was empty of visitors at this point. He barely even gargled a reply as his body spilled open. Tessa let out another cry as one zookeeper yanked on her and the other shocked her repeatedly. Jaspierre charged and the man with the taser was quickly skewered. The other zookeeper let out a terrified cry. The blade swished and, with a quick slice to his throat, it was over. Tessa snarled and bared her teeth at Jaspierre.
They stood on the center stage, three zookeepers in their brown-turning-red uniforms littering the floor around them. Tessa hissed, her tail flicking back and forth anxiously. "Tessa. We've got to get Ikali. Calm down."