Jaspierre (Jaspierre Trilogy Book 1)

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Jaspierre (Jaspierre Trilogy Book 1) Page 4

by Mixi J Applebottom


  He couldn’t help but grin. She was nervous? It seemed so cute, this powerful, terrifying woman, nervous. She put a bomb in a tiny bracelet! He chuckled to himself. As if he didn’t know she would kill him if he messed anything up. Could he have a shower? He thought that was probably a bad idea with the ‘ole bomb on his leg deal. He didn’t want her to think he was trying to destroy it with water. Relief and freedom still felt euphoric. Hello walls that aren’t white. He could explore, walk, see things, pet the cats, read a book. Nothing could damper this beautiful mood.

  Time to explore. He had been released! He hoped the bracelet beeped loudly. What if he missed it? He tried to shake off the worry. Well, if he didn’t hear it, it would be ten seconds of fun. Still better than the white prison. Gotta feed those cats. He walked through the hallway past a room with dusty exercise equipment. It was a full gym; weight machines, elliptical, treadmills, stair climbers, crazy machines he had never seen before. One wall was a massive mirror. The other was a screen. A whole wall was a screen. He wondered how to turn it on, when Ikali stood behind him. Ikali licked his teeth prepped to bite him one more time. Lucas swirled and evaded the cat.

  Lucas hustled to the kitchen. He opened the four cans and plated them. Tessa leaped on to the counter, sitting and watching him while he worked. He almost tried to pet her, but it wasn’t worth the risk. He set the plates on the fancy floor stand. The few dishes he loaded up and ran in the dishwasher.

  Now it was time to explore, back up the stairs and past the gym and into the hall. He saw Jaspierre’s room, his room, a long hall, twelve bedrooms, and four linen closets. He found the closet he had hidden in, it was strange to think of his boy self stuffed into it. All of the bedrooms had their own baths and massive closets. The last door was locked.

  On the first floor, there was the library with the gorgeous fireplace and the prison. He walked around. The living room was massive. There was a playroom, with slides and rope swings. Perhaps it was for the cats? There was a ballroom and a small staff apartment area with four apartments. He found a game area with assorted games including basketball and pinball and ping pong. The rest of the house seemed so sterile. Decorated nicely, but it looked so vacant. Each room, grand and spacious but as empty as the others—furniture standing still in time, waiting for life.

  Lucas hadn’t finished exploring the house when he heard a noise. He walked a little farther, and he could hardly believe his eyes. The sounds of splashing water seemed so unbelievable. It was an elegant, majestic pool, complete with slides and a climbing net hovering over it. There were platforms floating on the pool. The water curled under a glass panel and into the outdoors. There was a small waterfall area, and at the top, Tessa stood. Lucas stared in amazement as the cat leapt into the water with a grand splash.

  “You swim?” Tessa looked over and meowed and Ikali jumped off the netting and leapt on top of her. The two wrestled around, climbing and jumping. Lucas chuckled and laughed as he watched. Tessa crawled out, soaking wet, and shook, flickering water all over Lucas’s legs. She picked up a stick and dropped it at his feet.

  “You play fetch?!” He tossed the stick into the water and she was off like a rocket, paddling after it. These had to be some of the most interesting cats in the world.

  As he sat and threw the stick over and over, he remembered Russell. It felt like a punch in the belly. Feed him. His stomach flipped again. A house plant withering away in prison, and all the fun sucked out of the playtime. He went to the kitchen, plating a sandwich and chips and a soda. Same old fare. He couldn’t think of anything else to bring. At the fireplace he stared at the great white carved cats.

  How does this thing open?

  He set the plate and soda on the desk. Was it the paw? He tugged on it, and nothing happened. He pressed the tongue. Pulled the tongue. Then he pushed the ear. Pulled the tail. Nothing. He grabbed the other ear and gave it a tug. With a sweet click the door swung open. The staircase was pitch black. It’s his fault. His wager. Russell is down there, and Lucas caused it.

  Both cats were by his side, they hesitated though. He stood there. He didn’t know how to turn on the lights. Also, he didn’t want to go down there. His mouth was as dry as cotton. That scary, white box he had been locked in was down there. His toes had been snipped off his feet down there. Russell was down there, withering away like a plant. And Lucas was up here, safe and sound.

  Jaspierre had said it was his choice. He could choose to feed Russell. Or choose not to.

  He couldn’t do it.

  Would Russell feed him if it was the other way around?

  He just couldn’t do it.

  His trembling hand rested on the marble ear, and before he pulled it, Ikali walked down the dark stairs, meowing in a lost sounding way. His tail disappeared into the darkness, and then Ikali yelped. Then he was silent.

  Tessa sniffed the air, and then walked down crouched low to the ground in a steady slinking motion. Lucas’s heart pounded. He knew he couldn’t leave them in the observation room. What would Jaspierre do to him?

  Trembling he tiptoed down the dark stairs. He listened for the cats, and heard nothing. Scooting along, one hand sliding across the wall teetering on each step. He felt such dread.

  Everything was silent. Not even the whisper of paw prints by soft feet. Russell was silent, no screaming or shouting, silent.

  Lucas kept feeling with his few toes for the floor, sneaking down a step, and searching with his foot. He had forgotten the tray of food upstairs. He wasn’t thinking about it though, as he touched the wall looking for lights.

  Panic start to settle inside him. Where were those cats? How do I get the stupid light on? He turned and looked back, but the curve in the steps blocked the light from the open door. If only he had a flashlight. He kept pushing forward, and wondered if the lights came on to her hand print, like the doors. He found the floor and shuffled his feet along it. His hands petted the wall frantically looking for the light. His fingers found a switch and clicked it. The room came whirring on. The console lit up, the lights brightened. He looked around and saw Ikali sitting by his maze door, pouting and annoyed. Tessa was sitting by hers.

  “I am sorry, I don’t have a rabbit.” He looked around and saw Russell on the screen looked asleep. The left arm of his shirt soaked in blood. He looked miserable. Lucas panicked. He almost chose to starve the man. Lucas flew up the stairs, then back down with the plate and soda. He felt terrible. This wasn’t enough food for someone who was injured. He walked to the glass observatory, and looked around. There was no box to insert the food.

  He stared at the huge console. It was so intimidating. What if he let Russell out? Tears suddenly choked him. He should let him out. Lucas was to blame for his capture, for Katie’s death. He sat tears trickling, staring down in the window, consumed with guilt. Glanced at his unmade bed in his tiny room, then back at Russell.

  “Hey, are you okay down there?” Russell stirred a little. “Can you hear me?”

  “Who the fuck am I talking to?”

  “Hi Russell. I am Lucas.” Russell didn’t respond to his introduction. Lucas impulsively said, “I… I am gonna try to release you if I can figure it out. There is a sandwich…”

  “I’m hungry.”

  “I… I can’t figure out how to get it to you. There are… a lot of switches and buttons.”

  Russell wept. “Let me out!” Thump. “Let me out!” Thump. “Let me out!” Thump. His cries grew frantic. He held the metal ring in his right hand and thumping it on the floor. “I didn’t do anything! Let me out.” Thump. “Let me out.” Thump.

  Lucas felt his pain, and his own tears welled up. Years of being locked up in that room played past him. The rhythm of screams and thumps reminded him of his own long silent years. He could hear the cries shouting what he himself never screamed. He sat with tears running down his face. Let me out. I didn’t want to be down there either. He found empty words, “It’s gonna be okay Russell.”

  Russell sobbed an
d thumped. The song of a broken man. Thudding and wailing. Beating and breaking.

  Lucas stared at the console. It was too many choices. How could he possibly figure it out? Russell’s beat sounded more and more like a slow clap. The kind that sent shivers of panic up his spine as nobody cheered. Applauding failure. Lucas stood up and went upstairs. He couldn’t sit and listen any longer. He couldn’t stand to listen to the beat of a man unraveling. Upstairs was quiet, and he glanced at the clock, it was almost one. He pulled food from the fridge, chicken wrapped in bacon. He wondered where Jaspierre was, and if his lunch would be too late.

  Chapter 7

  Jaspierre was sitting in her office at Kyller and Co. Most of the board members didn’t even realize how important she was anymore. She rarely made a fuss and the board voted the way she wanted, by manipulating someone to bring it up and spearhead each decision. She sat at the head of the table, seemingly bored. People talked more freely when they didn’t know you were paying attention. She operated this way when she was a child, she took a back seat and fired people for failing her. The system worked great. Today, there were no meetings and not too much to do. Medication deliveries were all on schedule and she was making lots of money as usual.

  She only showed up so she could watch Lucas. What an interesting thing this was; letting her monkey run loose. She worked on her papers; companies were such a pain in the ass, but a necessary evil that had served her well. Their distribution circles were growing stronger. A new medication for cancer suffering patients had recently been approved and sales were through the roof. The notes from her team explained they had even added a few extra deliveries. The medicines were so lucrative. Anything with a prescription was easy to make big money on, after all, insurance would pay hundreds per pill. She watched him as Lucas found her cats playing in the water, and how he played with them. He was so handsome, so innocent and sweet. She would undress him the moment she got home. He was delicious. She watched how he didn’t remember even the simplest things, like a light switch. How cute he was, scared of the dark.

  She watched him while he promised Russell he would help him escape.

  While the two men sobbed and the one man yelled, Jaspierre shattered her coffee mug on the wall. That nasty bastard. She stood up and grabbed her knife. This one was small, with a sharp curved blade. She slipped it from the armrest on her chair and stood up. Time to get rid of that stupid freaking man. I never should have waited this long to kill him! Took a deep breath, then slipped back into her high heels, smoothing her dark blue dress. She glanced into the mirror. Her long, curly brown hair looked professional. She fussed her hair a little, and then reapplied her lipstick.

  Ready to kill. Mother would finally be pleased. She grinned. But then she remembered she would have to come all the way back to her office if she brought this knife. Better to use one from the house. She slipped the knife back into the armrest. There was a knock.

  “Come in.”

  “Ma’am? I heard a noise…” The secretary paused as he saw the dripping coffee and the handle of the cup sticking out of the wall.

  “I dropped my cup,” she said with such smooth ease.

  He held back a smile. “Yes, I will have this cleaned right up. Our stock is up ten cents today. Did you make a decision on the Zelyn account?”

  Oh yes, she was at work. What a waste of time. “Tell them we agree. Also, if word gets out that I dropped my coffee cup, you’ll be fired. Set up a staff meeting in two weeks, and a team meeting so we can go over the strategies for this years expansion.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said.

  She handed him a stack of papers she had signed. “Take this; I’ll be back in two days. I shouldn’t have come in today. It’s my vacation.” Her lying, angry voice seethed. She did as she pleased and everyone knew it. She never took an official vacation because she was always free to wander off.

  She drove her dark red Mercedes at a fast angry clip. She thought about Lucas. That stupid, useless man. She had been thinking before he betrayed her, maybe they could stay friends. She’d let him out and nothing horrible would rain down upon her but that was not how it worked. If you let them out, they would destroy you. When would she learn? She remembered the last man who she let out and cringed. His angry hot breath pressed against her tiny face.

  It was not a happy memory.

  She slid the car into the massive garage, parking it with a click. She hung the keys on the board. Fourteen cars might seem excessive to some, but it was still half the amount Mother used to have.

  She stepped into the house, and her beautiful kitties came purring up. “No.” Her voice was low and scary. Both cats backed up and left. She walked in and pulled a long sword out of the marble staircase. “Lucas, what are you doing?” Her voice carried a sing-song rhythm.

  She let the sword rattle on the floor behind her as she walked toward the kitchen. The sliding metal scraping on her marble floor made a nasty noise. She was careful not to scratch the floor though. That’d be a pain to fix, she thought.

  Lucas pulled the chicken out of the oven. He was bent over with the hot pan in his hands when he heard her sing-song voice, and the metal dragging on the ground. I should run. Every bone in his body screamed it, but he didn’t move. He would rather die than spend ten more years in that wretched prison. Hiding was a bad idea. Hiding didn’t work. Facing her, though, might work. Last time, she might have hurt him, and his aching chest wound still bled. But she hadn’t killed him. No doubt, she would kill him at some point. She had killed Katie with such venom, but it was swift and without warning. If she warns me I still have a Chance.

  It didn’t mean he wanted to face her, though. He set the hot pan on top of the stove.

  “I am almost done with lunch. I hope you like it.” She walked in with the blade and stared at him curiously, with her head cocked.

  “You will not have a Chance to eat it.” She swung wide, and he ducked out of the way, and took two plates from the cupboard.

  Stay calm, stay calm. He trembled while he picked up tongs and started to plate the chicken. She was exasperated and swung again. He crouched down tight against the cupboard. “At least let me get the rice!”

  He stood again and turned to the stove. “You’ll be hungry after you slice me up. Might as well let me plate it.”

  Her rage built. “Stop,” Swing! “Plating.” Swing! “The food!” Her swings were wide and terrifying, though he wasn’t sure she was actually trying to hit him. The blade slammed down on the counter barely touching his fingertips.

  He cried, “What have I done? What did I do? Did I make you angry because I fed the cats wrong? Is lunch too late? I can do better! Give me a Chance! Give me a Chance! Give me a Chance!” His cries fell into the same rhythm of the other man and he stopped with a catch in his throat.

  She pressed the tip of the blade into his throat and said one word. “Russell.”

  Then he realized she knew what he had promised Russell, and the color all drained from his face. “I have been in that room ten years.” He held out his hands and he stood there, helpless and waiting.

  The sad, sorry looking man stood in front of her. She had seen him sit, day after day in that tiny box of a room. She had left him there.

  “If you let him go I will kill you both. I will hunt you down.”

  Lucas nodded, the blade still pointing into his throat. “You are gonna have to prove you are trustworthy.”

  She prodded him down the fireplace stairs with the blade at his back. Was he about to be locked back into his old prison? Terror stole his voice and he considered attacking her. As soon as she is distracted, I’ll have to. He couldn’t go back in there. He looked into the observation area and saw the sandwich and coke sitting there still. A few bites were stolen from the sandwich by a cat.

  He heard the hissing sounds of gas as Jaspierre pressed buttons and pushed levers. She handed him garden shears. “Take all of them. Then move him to your room. When you are done, you can come back upstai
rs. If you won’t do it, you will be down there forever.” She took the blade, pressed it into the center of his back, and walked him to the wall, holding her hand on it. The wall slid and then the metal spiral staircase was visible.

  Lucas trudged down the stairs and into Russell’s room. She shut the door behind him with a crisp snap. She went upstairs and a few minutes later in Russell’s room, two boxes opened. Lucas looked. One was an empty chute, Lucas recognized it; the trash chute. The other had bandages and a med-kit.

  “The gas will last an hour or so,” Jaspierre said.

  Lucas stared at the shears in his hand, and looked at Russell. “Just the toes?” Or would he have to cut the fingers off too? If he obeyed her, he could play with kittens and make food, read books, and perhaps bone a pretty lady. If not he had to stay in a room with Russell forever. He didn’t have to kill anyone, and for that he was grateful. Besides, she was right; he said he would betray her. He did have to prove himself.

  He hoped it was toes.

  “Yes, toes are enough.” Her reply was crisp.

  This is for you Jaspierre. This is for you. This is for me so I can have some life back. He often wished she would have killed him. Living without toes wasn’t so bad, he reminded himself. He lived missing a good many toes, and it wasn’t that bad. Russell would be fine. Russell lay unconscious with the metal ring in his hands. His left arm was bloody. He took off Russell’s socks.

  He snipped. The small toe was first, and blood seemingly poured everywhere. He grabbed the med-kit and regretted not looking at it first. Inside were two things. A propane torch, and a metal stick that had a wooden handle on one end and a flat metal plate on the other.

  He turned the knob on the propane torch and it lit. He set it on the ground, holding the metal plate over it with one hand, and pressing on the toe stub with the other. He tried to stop Russell from bleeding out before he cauterized the wound. Soon, the plate was glowing red, and he pressed into Russell’s foot with it.

 

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