Jaspierre (Jaspierre Trilogy Book 1)

by Mixi J Applebottom

  She was uncertain what to do. Assaulting a cop would be a huge pain in the ass to fix. Of course, this was Chance. Here he was in his full glory. Who would believe her if she said a cop tried to rape her? Who would believe you if he did? If she hit him back, he might not tell.

  She landed on the dirty gravel, scrambling backwards. He unzipped. He thought she was already beaten. But this would not be like the first time he tried this.

  She lay back and pulled her skirt up a little, getting into position. “Good job, bitch. You are getting smart.” He held his cock with one hand and the night stick in the other. “Fuck it off.” He pressed the night stick on her head, pushing her face around as she sat there on the ground. “Take your pick: your nasty ass, your bitch tits, suck it. I don’t care, fuck it.” He pressed the nightstick into the back of her head, pushing her closer to his dick.

  She pressed backwards and kicked her pointed boot directly into his balls. His squeal of pain was so cute. She hit him again as hard as she could, and he doubled over. She took his fallen nightstick and cracked it hard on his head, and he fell to the ground. She dropped the stick and spat on him. She got on her bike and rode away, flipping him off as she went. She drove fast. He was beaten, but not out. She was sure she would pay for what had happened. It wasn’t long before the predictable sirens whistled behind her. She dropped down deep into town and parked in a parking garage. She waited. The sirens eventually came close, and whistled past. She was sure she had lost him. But it didn’t matter. She left the bike parked and stuffed the wig in her purse, then she flagged down a cab and got herself dropped off on the wrong side of her property. Behind her grand home on one side of the wall was a trashy neighborhood. She trudged past the trailers, and then pushed vines and bushes away until she found her little gate. She unlocked it and slipped inside, pulling the brush back close. Then she locked the little gate.

  Her house was still quite a walk, ten acres to walk across. She reminded herself she should park a bike near the gate to make it more pleasant. All that walking gave her a time to think.

  She could hardly believe Chance was back in town. He was her never-ending nightmare. How the hell did he even get a cop badge?He was a scary man. Hell, she considered herself a terrible woman, but she was nothing compared to him.

  She hated him more then she had ever loathed anyone. Almost. Almost anyone. She still disliked Mother more, even after all these years. She hoped Lucas was awake.

  After about thirty minutes, she was near her house. Her aching feet trudged up the marble steps. She was tired. That was too much fun for one night. She tried to smile at her own joke. She locked the door behind her and set the security settings on full alert. They would stay on full alert until Chance was gone. Dead or gone; she didn’t care.

  She walked up the stairs. Lucas was standing in the hall leaning on the wall. “Oh! You’re back.” Before he said anything more, she was sobbing in his arms. He kissed down her neck and behind her ears, holding her steady with his firm arms.

  She never knew how wonderful it could be to be held. Her whole body sobbed with sweet relief. She never knew. She had never been close with anyone. Her mother certainly had never held her. She had been alone for so long. So long. She said it before she could even stop herself. “I love you.” She kissed him before he replied. She pressed her lips to his again, holding his mouth hostage with hers. He couldn’t fathom what was happening, but he didn’t care.

  They parted and he slumped into the wall. He was still weak. She led him to her bedroom. The sheets were clean and fresh, and she pulled Lucas down into her arms and they kissed again. His body demanded more, but he held back. “Are you okay, baby? What happened out there? Where is your wig? You have grass all over your boots.”

  She smiled. “You are so observant.” She stood up and removed her boots and fishnets. Her legs were marked with x’s all down them in little red lines. She dropped her skirt too, and was in soft white panties and her black low-cut top. “ That stuff is making me crazy.” He stared at her beautiful skin and patted the bed invitingly. “I saw Chance today. He… He is an old friend of mine. He tried to rape me.”

  “Has he done that before? Raped you?”

  “Well, no no, I wouldn’t say that. It was my fault. If I hadn’t wanted to do it, I should have killed him. I mean, I should have known better. He’s just um…” she said.

  “It’s not your fault.” Lucas said, shocked. Why would she take the blame for something like that?

  “No, it’s not like, my fault. It’s just that… Mother. Mother would never have allowed something like that to happen unless she wanted it. She was strong. She did whatever the hell she wanted. And I am just this weak loser who can’t just kill someone and move on. I was supposed to kill you. You killed Rainbow; that was way worse than what Chance did. That’s what any sane person would have done, and instead, I just kept you around.” She bit her tongue, she was saying to much, being too emotional. “I… I shouldn’t have said that earlier. I didn’t mean it.”

  Lucas laughed. “That you love me?” He threw a pillow at her playfully. “Well then, I don’t love you either! You beautiful, confusing, terrifying woman.”

  Jaspierre smiled and crawled back into bed. “Okay, fine, I might have meant it a little.” She paused. “I have never been hugged like that in my entire life.”

  He kissed her. His body was hard and wanting against hers. A flash of fearful anger. She pulled back, and he bit her neck playfully. “Hey, baby, don’t run away from me. It’s okay. You are safe here.”

  “You’d say anything when you have a boner.”

  He blushed, and he whispered into her ear. “That’s not true.” He kissed her forehead and whispered in her other ear. “Don’t listen to him; he wants you for your amazing body.” He nibbled across under her chin, tickling her and making her squirm whispering into her ear once again, “I love you Jaspierre. I want to stay with you. I want to hold you. I love you, sweet dear.”

  She accepted and kissed him. She slid her panties off, and wrapped her naked legs around him. He didn’t tear his pants off and give it to her though. He kissed her and ran his fingers down over her. He held her ass, and squeezed it, whimpering at her. He slid his fingers down and touched her, until she couldn’t help but cry out. He kissed her, and slid off his pants and pressed his flesh into hers. Her body was wet, and so ready.

  There they lay, hearts pounding, two lonely bodies finding love for the first time. He kissed her, shifting, her whole body trembled with ecstasy. It didn’t take long for them both to be crying out sweet sounds into each other’s ears. She kissed him, and held him. Then he whispered into her ear, “Just let me love you.”

  She kissed behind his ear and whispered to him, “Lucas. I love you more than a little bit.” He laughed. They snuggled up close for quite some time.

  Eventually, he slept, but Jaspierre couldn’t stop thinking about Chance.

  Chapter 12

  Russell woke up to the tiny alarm. He hadn’t been fed in quite a while. He was hungry. Also, he stunk. He crapped in the corner because he didn’t know what else to do. He was miserable.

  His feet were swollen and red. His arm was oozing pus and blood. He took a little drink of water and turned off the alarm. Two more pills dropped down his throat. Pills didn’t seem like a bad way to die. Either that or they would make him strong enough for whatever was next.

  He rubbed his aching feet with his right hand. His left arm still seemed useless. It was so excruciating to move it, he stopped bothering to try. He set the little timer for his next dose in eight hours. He lay back down on the wet bed. Where had he gone wrong with his life? He regretted complaining asking her out. He curled up and closed his eyes and wished for sleep.

  *** Twenty Years Earlier ***

  Jaspierre stood still with her hair in pigtails. She was wearing a floor-length dress. It was a lovely pink color and fit for a princess. Jaspierre had put on tiny, little, white high heels. She looked in the mirror.
Her nanny stood there, fussing over her makeup.

  “This is a big day for you. Seven years old.”

  Jaspierre didn’t feel much like turning seven. “Is it time?” The nanny nodded.

  She stood at the top of the marble stairs. The clapping started and soon it was a large whirlwind of applause. Jaspierre stood at the top, motionless and poised. Then as the cheering settled, she clicked down the stairs.

  “Thank you everyone for coming,” she said in a loud, steady tone. She smiled and waved at the crowd. “I do believe it is time for my birthday dinner. If you would all kindly follow me.”

  Everyone followed the child, and she sat at the head of the crazy, luxurious table. Jaspierre was tired of hosting parties. She wished, on this birthday of hers, her house was empty and she was alone.

  Every seat was filled, and soon it was standing room only. There were only enough seats for the first two hundred guests. The table clicked to life, and food rode around the conveyor. The food always passed in front of Jaspierre before any other guests. She wondered where Mother was at. Probably kissing a gross man… or passed out drunk.

  Jaspierre nibbled bread. After the first ten or so happy birthdays she was generally ignored. Guests spoke to each other. She was, of course, the only child at this party. She rang a little bell as the first round of food made it to the end of the table. Everyone settled in quietly.

  She stood on her chair. “This year, I turn seven. I have been attending all of the board meetings, and I would like to thank each of you at our office for making it run so well. I appreciate how kind you all have been to me at my first year of running things without much of my mother’s help.” This was not strictly a company party, but she didn’t care. She would say what she pleased. “I have big plans for this upcoming year, and I cannot wait. Seven will be one of the greatest years of my life.” The crowd roared with applause.

  “If anyone sees Mother, let her know I have a chair for her.” She smiled wryly. The best way to get her mother’s attention was always to make her a little bit angry. But not too angry. Jaspierre sat down pleasantly, smoothing her dress. She had wanted to dress more maturely, but her nanny said she made a better impression looking her age than looking like a high schooler. She tossed her little pigtails back and forth, and served herself potatoes and meat. The food crept by: rolls, meat, cheese, and fruit. She knew the food would be passing by for hours and hours. Desserts would be added to the lineup as soon as she was ready.

  Cocktails too, spinning around the table. Jaspierre had tried one once, and the bitter taste was off-putting. She had no idea why grownups drank them so much. There was nothing pleasant about it.

  Jaspierre always kept her eyes peeled for the gold-rimmed glasses. She had once told the bartender she had not had a single thing to drink for a party. She resented drinking water while everyone else drank something special. He said he would send out virgin drinks in gold-rimmed glasses, every tenth drink he made. Most of the guests had no idea and they would end up a little less drunk than they intended, but Jaspierre didn’t care. Now she could sip delicious sweet punches with the adults, without that bitter, miserable taste ruining it all.

  She lifted the gold-rimmed glass off the wooden conveyor belt, and sipped it. This was an orange and red swirled concoction. It tasted like strawberries and orange juice mixed with Sprite. The whipped cream and cherry were her favorite part. She took a sip, and random guests standing behind her shouted at her.

  “You are only seven! No cocktails for you! What is wrong with you! Where is your mother!”

  Jaspierre sat there, astonished as the woman ripped the glass from her hands. Jaspierre turned and glared. Hot anger flamed up inside her. She wanted this woman to die. It was her birthday. This was her party. She was feeding all these guests; she had planned the menu. She ran a whole company for an entire year! Who the hell was this stupid guest to tell her what she could and could not do? Before Jaspierre called security to send the guest packing, she saw the woman twist her head upwards and yelp.

  Mother was here.

  Jaspierre watched as her mother pulled the woman’s hair down to her knees. The guest tumbled over backwards, yelping with pain. As soon as the woman was on the ground, Jaspierre’s mother kicked her in the face. Then she walked over the lady’s body while she moaned on the ground, her high heels piercing into her flesh. Mother sat at the chair next to Jaspierre. “Nasty whore should know better.” She grabbed a glass off the conveyor belt that was orange and red and had whipped cream and a cherry. “Drink all you want, you little bitch.”

  She set the glass in front of Jaspierre, with its obvious lack of gold rim. Jaspierre knew her mother had no idea the gold-rimmed glasses had no alcohol. She surely would have fired everyone if she had found out. But, thankfully, Mother never paid much attention to anything anymore.

  Jaspierre ate the cherry. “Thank you Mother. Having a good time?”

  “What was all this bullshit about you looking for me?”

  Jaspierre couldn’t help but be pleased. “I was looking for you.”

  “Don’t be silly. You weren’t looking for me. You were schmoozing clients, or the board. You don’t need me.” Her dress was black, tight, and revealed most of her skin. She looked young and beautiful, but she was terrifying.

  The woman on the ground behind them was ushered out and nobody spoke a word to Mother about it.

  “Do you like the menu?” Jaspierre asked her mother. She had spent an entire week tasting dishes and picking cocktail combinations.

  “The only amazing things in this room are me, that table, and you. The rest—the food, the décor, the guests— are entirely forgettable.” Her mother turned and smiled a sly smile. “I have a present for you.”

  Jaspierre tried to shake off the insult about the food. A present. It could be a trap, of course. Most birthdays, she got herself a present. This year though, she felt too old for presents, and instead gave money to the children’s ward in the hospital.

  “This year, you and I have great things planned! Seven is plenty old enough to think for yourself! Don’t pretend I haven’t noticed you are lonely, even with all these foolish guests you haven’t scarcely spoken a word. So, this year, I have gotten you a kitten.” She clapped her hands a butler showed up with a silver tray with a lid on it. Jaspierre was being served a kitten the same way she was served a boar’s head.

  Jaspierre lifted the lid and half expected the kitten to be fried with an apple in its mouth. If Mother had thought of that, she probably would have done it. But she hadn’t, and her mother stood and clapped while the entire room joined in, clapping and whispering how beautiful it was.

  The tiny kitten had big ears and spots and stripes. It didn’t look quite like any kitten Jaspierre had seen before. She reached out to touch it, and the kitten hissed. The noise and being under a lid made the kitten uneasy. Jaspierre clamped the lid back on. “Just go put it in my room.”

  “Nonsense.” Jaspierre’s mother lifted the lid and snatched the kitten into the air. “This is a serval; she is a purebred, and one of the most expensive cats you can get. Twenty five thousand smackers. She will not go to your room.”

  The kitten meowed pitifully. Jaspierre took it from Mother’s rough grip and held it. The kitten snuggled into her small arms.

  Her mother continued, “She will make you a lot of money when she has kittens.”

  Jaspierre understood. This kitten would be put in the barn, not become a part of the family. “No.” Jaspierre stood up. “I am seven now. I run the company, and I will keep my new kitten in my room.”

  She excused herself and went to her room with the kitten. She shoved the kitten deep into her closet, locking the door. Then she sat on her bed and waited.

  Mother, predictably, came into her room moments later. She picked up her daughter and threw her into the wall. “Never disrespect me again.” The scent of the bad drinks were on her breath.

  “Mother. Hit me if you must. But if you ever hurt my ki
tten, I will kill you.” Jaspierre’s tiny angry eyes glared up at her mother in the tight black dress, and the painfully tall heels.

  Mother smirked at the child. “You are seven, plenty big enough.” Her mother proceeded to beat her until she bled. When her swings grew tired from the effort, she stood and straightened her dress, touched up her makeup and went back to the party. Jasp lay on the floor, curled up tightly, waiting for it to end. Then she dragged her aching, bloody body to the closet and opened the door. The kitten was tucked into the corner in the dark. Jaspierre trembled and crawled toward the kitten. It hissed at her. She held her hand out nervously, and the small kitten walked to Jaspierre and licked her, and sat with her and purred. The tired and beaten down child curled up with the kitten deep in her closet, too tired to even climb to her own bed five feet away.

  “I am gonna name you the nicest happiest thing I can think of.” Jaspierre kissed the kitten and whispered, “You will be Rainbow.” She pulled the closet doors shut and they slept, hidden from Mother till morning.

  Chapter 13

  Lucas asked Jaspierre if she would show him how to feed Russell. She explained the controls and Lucas went down, clicking the serval’s carved ear and darting down the dark stairs. Jaspierre stayed upstairs looking at her pool.

  The pool was one of her favorite places. It was a difficult swim under the glass panel and through the pool to the outdoors. She had always thought it was an excellent escape route in case of fire, or if someone was chasing her. But not today. Today, it was much like she had created the perfect route for someone to sneak in and kill her. This had scared her too much.

  Chance would do it. He would sneak in. It didn’t matter if the fences were checked and fortified. It made no difference if it was a difficult swim. He would find a way in to rape her again, and possibly kill her. Chance was a dangerous man, especially now he was a cop, he had authority. He could find her when he pleased.