Jaspierre's Descent (Jaspierre Trilogy Book 2)

by Mixi J Applebottom

  "Daddy?" Her voice cracked with happy tears. "How, how did you find me? I have been looking for you."

  She rushed to his side and kissed his forehead. Slowly, the man roused. Dru watched the interaction with great curiosity.

  "Severina?" he finally gasped, terror dripping from his voice.

  "No, it's me, Jaspierre."

  "Jaspierre, you look like your mother," Pierre said, fear still lingering. He was still lying on the floor while Jaspierre bent close to him. She reached out a hand to help him up, balancing the flowers and the box awkwardly. "You're wearing the ring I gave her?"

  She dropped the flowers and the blue Tiffany box in her excitement. "I knew it had to be from you!" Jaspierre blurted out. The vase rolled across the floor, dribbling water. The finger with the ring on it popped out of the box. Pierre let out a shout.

  "What is this? Have you become her?" Tears flowed as he scrambled backwards. Fear took over. "Are you taking apart people?" The ruppie hopped closer. "Holy fuck, you made a ruppie. Or did Severina?" His eyes grew wide, and his body started to tremble. "Is she here?" His voice broke and he scooted, crawling away. Jaspierre stood, confused. The horror on his face hurt her.

  "Mother is dead. I was finishing her work. You know she would have wanted me to." Jaspierre's hair rose on her neck. How could he accuse her so? "This finger isn't mine!" she shouted, her anger building. "It's not mine! I didn't do this!" He made it to his feet and turned to run. "Don't let him leave." Dru grinned as Arnold chased the older man. The two of them fell to the ground as he tackled him. Jaspierre let out a furious scream. "I'm not a monster! Stop this, stop it now."

  The finger on the floor did remind her of the urgency. Chance was coming. Time to pack the kitties and the ruppie and now her father. She'd have to calm him down later. She felt her belly tighten. All this stress was not good for the baby. "Just hold him; we're gonna go on a little trip together. Calm him down. Don't let him leave. I am gonna grab a few things."

  She asked Dru to fetch her minivan. She hustled up the stairs to her room. She had four duffel bags packed and ready. She didn't have anything for a man in there, but there was more than enough cash to take care of them both.

  She scrambled down the stairs, lugging the large bags. By the time she was back down the stairs, Arnold had tied and gagged Pierre.

  "Stop; he doesn't need all that! Just don't let him leave. He's coming with me."

  "Ma'am, if I don't gag him, he'll be screaming."

  "Fine, leave it." Flustered, she said, "Put him in the car!" Jasp scrambled to her office and clicked the ear of the serval statue. This was all wrong; everything was going wrong. Pierre wasn't supposed to meet her like this. The fireplace swung open and she floated down the stairs. Basel heard her footsteps and started screaming, "Let me out!" over and over in a familiar rhythm. Let me out. Let me out. She pressed a few buttons and the cats came running out their glass doors. Quickly, she leashed them. Then she paused. She had to go. Chance is coming. She had to go now!

  But.

  Could she leave Basel down there to die? She thought of Pierre's face, and how horrified he was. Mother would have no problem leaving a man to waste away locked in a room. But she was better than Mother. She was in a hurry. Besides, Pierre would never forgive her if she left another man in these rooms. She was better than Mother.

  She pressed a few buttons and the door at the top of the spiral staircase opened. In Basel's room, the door slid open. He darted up the spiral staircase, but by the time he was at the top, she was gone.

  Dru said, "Alright, I put Russell in the back of the minivan, that little ruppie. I thought you might want him with you. Your bags too."

  Both cats leashed, she let them into the minivan. She stood next to Pierre, tied and gagged. Arnold and Dru both watched. Jasp tried to convince Pierre to get in. "We'll talk about it all on the ride. We have to go; it's not safe here."

  Pierre silently stood terrified, still gagged and tied, shaking his head frantically.

  She tried to pull him into the car when Basel came charging at her. He held a sword in his hand. "You don't lock me up, you bitch!" He charged. She ducked, but his wild swing cut deep into Pierre's throat. Blood gushed as he choked and bled.

  Dru's mouth grew tight as he tried to control his desire to laugh hysterically. Arnold stepped forward, mumbling his numbers, but Dru put his hand on his chest. "Let's see what happens," Dru whispered to the gray-haired man. He nodded and they waited.

  Basel didn't care who he killed, as long as Jaspierre didn't survive this. "Come on, bitch."

  She was more prepared than he was and didn't even fumble as she Dru the gun from her waistband. She shot him in the face. He tried to charge her while he bled, but she shot him again and again in the chest. He staggered backwards and fell. She doubled over as a contraction took her breath away. She turned back to Pierre. His mouth was still tied with a rag, his arms still bound behind his back. Her father was dead, his blood still pooling around his slumped body. Her family was dead. Despair choked her thoughts. Why had she let him out? When would she ever learn! Her stomach tightened harder, and she sank down to her father's body.

  The baby kicked. She had family left, but not much. She had to save this baby before Chance showed up. Sobs wracked her body as she doubled over with another contraction. Lights flickered in the distance.

  Dru and Arnold slipped back inside the house, leaving the dead men and the pregnant woman alone together. Dru said, "Arnold, did you see that there is a prison in the basement?"

  She doubled over next to her father and held his cooling body. Contractions came faster and stronger. She sobbed and held him. The pain was unbearable.

  Chapter

  Twenty-Six

  Edward's car squealed to a stop. He leapt out. There was a huge dead black man shot several times lying on the ground. A woman cried out; he Dru his weapon. As he rounded the silver minivan, a woman collapsed around a man's body. He was bound and gagged, his throat had been slit, and they were both covered in blood. The woman cried out again and doubled over.

  "Ma'am, are you all right?" His gun drawn, he looked around wildly, confused, keeping his back towards her. "Who did this? Where are they?"

  He glanced over to her. She looked up with the biggest beautiful sad eyes he had ever seen. His heart beat hard. Her blood-soaked arms reached up for him like a lost little child.

  Glancing around quickly, he saw no other assailants. He couldn't help himself; he reached down and lifted her. He almost dropped her and they both stumbled back against the minivan. His body was pressed to hers. Her face was smeared with blood and tears. He reached up and wiped her face gently. She let out a cry and tucked her head into his shoulder. He held her trembling body. "Is anyone else here? Are you still in danger?"

  She shook her head. Then she cringed and doubled over. He caught her. "Where are you hurt?" He should call this in. He had no idea what he was walking into; he came to question Jaspierre, not participate in a shootout.

  "Did Chance do this?"

  She let out a sob. He held her and tried to help her to the car, looking around nervously. Her belly was huge with a baby. She suddenly sat down and let out a cry. She was pushing. "Stop! Don't push!" Her baby was almost here. She looked up with terrified, desperate eyes. He tore off her panties and helped prop up her knees. She leaned forward and, with a soft moaning cry, a tiny head of curly blond hair pressed out. The tiniest nose and eyes and shoulders and her whole body slipped out in a big wave of fluids. He had delivered a baby girl. Unexpected pride welled up within him.

  He held the little girl up to her mother. Jaspierre's face lit up as she held the tiny infant. She was sobbing hysterically as she held the slimy baby. "Your daddy is dead. My daddy is dead. It's just us. It's just us. Me and you. We're the last family." Jaspierre sobbed. Edward cringed, listening in on this private moment. How was it Jaspierre always ended up so alone? No mother or father or lover? He tried to think of something to say to console her, but
then he remembered. Shit, the cord needs to be cut. Edward wasn't sure what else needed to happen. "I gotta call for help." He ran to his car and called for an ambulance and backup.

  "Lucille. You are Lucille." She sobbed into the tiny infant's hair. The baby cried loudly with her mother.

  A Hummer roared between Edward and Jaspierre. Fuck. Edward dropped the radio in shock. A scarred and tattooed Chance stepped out of the Hummer.

  Chapter

  Twenty-Seven

  Chance had been watching and waiting for a moment to take Jaspierre. He had been screwing around in her garden, waiting patiently for her to arrive. He had slipped in her gate a bit after she had. "Slipped in" was a bit of an exaggeration since he simply knocked it down with the Hummer. He had every intention of waiting for her to step outside so he could scoop her up. He had a feeling that after she got his note, she'd pack a few bags and be ready for a ride. Accidental sleep had visited him a bit, but gunshots woke him up. Time to party. He got out his binoculars; he could see a big black corpse already lying on the ground. A minivan was sitting in the driveway directly in front of the house. He couldn't see anyone else. Jaspierre seemed to be just out of sight, behind the minivan. Waiting seemed to be his best option.

  Then that detective drove up with his lights on. The man walked over to Jaspierre, and he started to walk with her back to the cop car. Fucking fuck fuckers. She'd be hard to break out of prison. But the craziest thing happened. She stopped walking to the car and instead had their baby. That damn cop even got to catch. Chance started the car, pissed off, still waiting for his moment. It finally came when that dumbass cop walked away from Jasp while he called it in.

  Now or never. His tires squealed as he shot the Hummer right between the cop and his woman. Who's the fucking knight in shining armor now? He leapt out of the driver's seat and grabbed the baby. Jaspierre let out a scream. They were still connected by the cord. Chance let out a holler of excitement. "Come on, Jasp, we have to get the fuck out of here!"

  He opened the back door and grabbed her while she struggled to her feet. He lifted her in with one arm and threw the baby on her lap with the other. He slammed the door and Edward stood helplessly as they squealed away. The Hummer drove off. Edward grabbed his gun and fired at the tires. He raced to his car and called for more backup.

  He followed the black Hummer, desperately trying to catch up.

  Jaspierre finished delivering her baby. She had a small knife in her pocket and cut the cord. What the fuck was she supposed to do? Adrenaline surged within her as she held Lucille tightly. He kept glancing back at her in the rearview mirror.

  "Holy crap, that was fantastic. So fucking great! You and me and baby makes three. It's so great to have you back, Jasp. I was thinking we could get married tomorrow when the dust settles. I wanna make a real woman out of you, you know? Now we'll have a real family. I think we should have at least four more kids, up to eight. Wouldn't that be great? I bet he'll have your nose. You've got a great nose. If we're lucky, the girls will have your tits. What's this one? A girl or a boy?"

  Jaspierre held her daughter close. "Her name is Lucille."

  "Fine, fine; you name the first one. I'll name the rest. Lucille is a great name. I like it."

  "Chance, where are we going? That cop is following us."

  "I love it when you say 'us.' Hell yes. He's following us. I'll take care of that asshole."

  Jaspierre took a deep breath. Her baby smelled amazing, even through all the blood. She closed her eyes and counted to ten. Probably stab him in the neck. That was gonna be how she got out of this alive. He was too busy driving the damn car to fight her right now. "Chance. We're gonna make a great family."

  "You're so damn feisty, we sure as hell are gonna have a great wedding night. If you can keep your hands off me until then."

  She wished she had her sword. She had dropped the gun when she held her father. A wave of grief washed over her. Stop it, Jaspierre. If you want to live, if you want Lucille to live. Then stop it. Fucking stop. No thinking about anything.

  Fucking kill him.

  This knife didn't seem long enough to kill. Deep enough to hurt, yeah, but Chance wasn't easy to kill. Although, by the sheer number of burn marks, she was almost successful last time. She had no other choice. Fight or die. Lucille needed her to live.

  She drove the knife into Chance's neck. He let out a gurgled cry and turned the wheel. The Hummer slid sideways and squealed to a stop. The cop behind them slammed on his brakes, but it wasn't enough. His car T-boned the Hummer.

  Chapter

  Twenty-Eight

  Dazed, Jaspierre awoke on the ground. A loud buzzing sound consumed her thoughts. Her ears were ringing; no, they were buzzing. She kept blinking over and over again. She could see a yellow leaf on a tree, dancing softly in the wind. The arm on her right side refused to move, but pain hadn't hit her yet. The leaf suddenly broke free and spun twice in the air. It started to fall slowly, and a breeze caught it and it jerked back up. Would it ever hit the ground? She felt like that leaf, spinning wildly out of control, never able to touch solid ground. The buzzing was unbearable. Her left fingertips touched her ear, smacking it gently. Would that fucking ringing ever stop? The leaf swirled again and landed next to her, on the left side of her crumpled body still lying on the ground. Slowly, she turned her head to the left. Sparkling red and blue lights were spinning. The cop car was on its side. Inside, the detective was doing something. Moving around, shouting something. She couldn't hear him with all the screaming.

  Yes, it wasn't buzzing, it was screaming. She could hear screaming. Her left hand touched her ear again, futilely wishing for the sounds to stop. She was screaming. The pain crawled through her limbs slowly and, finally, she knew she was screaming. She could feel her chest heave, her lungs fill with painful air, and her mouth peel open as she screamed again. The Hummer was upside down in front of her. She had been thrown from it. Her teeth clenched tightly together as she tried to hold back another scream that was trying to bubble out her throat.

  Her legs writhed against the ground. Her teeth were clenched painfully tight as she rolled her body to the left, staring at the cop car. He was climbing out of the car, shifting his body up through the driver's side window. She pressed her teeth tighter together, willing herself to stop. He had blood dripping down his forehead across his nose and plinking off the end. For a moment, she thought she could hear the plinking little drops of blood falling off his nose and onto the ground. He pulled out his gun. Her eyes grew big with fear. Stumbling, he walked towards her. He frantically looked around, pointing his gun back and forth. What was he looking for?

  What happened? It looked like she had been in a car wreck, but her brain refused to tell her more. He helped her stagger to her feet. "Where is he?" he barked, frantically looking around, lifting her up. "You aren't safe here." Blood gushed from between her legs. From between her legs. A wave of panic rushed over her. Her baby had gushed from between her legs just an hour ago. Where was Lucille? Terror completely took over and she tried to run. Frantically, she tried to run and find her.

  She staggered back and forth screaming, "Lucille! Lucille! Lucille!"

  She stumbled forwards, scanning for her infant, listening for her tiny cry. But she heard nothing. Then her legs betrayed her and she stumbled and fell.

  Chapter

  Twenty-Nine

  Edward carried two cups of coffee. He was exhausted, bruised, and battered. He stepped into the interrogation room to see her. She sat. No wig, no heels; a scared little woman. Her hair was short and brown with silver on the sides. She was, somehow, still stunning. It had been exactly forty-eight hours since the accident.

  "Jaspierre, I brought you coffee."

  "Where is my baby?" Her voice was hoarse from crying. She took the cup. Her eyes were red and swollen. She had spent both nights sedated in the hospital, chained to her bed.

  "We are gonna find her." He begged his voice not to betray him. Would they find Lucille
? "You've got to testify against Chance. We can let you out of here if you tell us he made you do all this stuff. Look, you shot Basel, unloaded the clip in him. You had gun residue on your hands. They want to prosecute you for Pierre's murder too. You don't have any witnesses. I can't get you out of here."

  Jaspierre's chains rattled as she moved her hand, lifting the cup to her lips. "You were there. You should have saved her." Her left hand scratched at her arm as she drank. Claw marks were evident on her skin. "Let me out and I will find him. I will kill him. Let me out. Let me find her." She couldn't look into his eyes; her body rocked back and forth while she scratched her skin. Both hands were trembling. He would have thought she was an addict. Her left hand tore a chunk of hair out. But she had no drugs in her system. Her coffee cup slammed back on the table, spilling. "You let me find my girl." Her eyes connected with his, suddenly stopping his heart. She wasn't an addict. She was going mad.

  His heart skipped. She was right; he had failed her. Here he sat with a cup of coffee. Drink this crappy coffee instead of holding your brand new baby. This fucking cup of coffee. His hand ran across his face as he tried to wipe the exhaustion away. Chance had the baby, as far as they knew. The trail had gone cold. He was hiding. Last week, he murdered over and over. This week, radio silence. The man was hiding or in another state. Or dead. There were no leads. Not even a stolen car near the crime scene.

  The Hummer was in the impound lot sitting next to Edward's ruined cop car. Did he walk somewhere? After the car crash, it seemed unlikely he could have walked. The man had to be injured. Jaspierre said she had knifed the bastard before the crash. The baby was missing. Chance was missing. Not a single phone call reporting a suspicious man covered in terrifying burn scars and tattoos with a day-old infant.