Jaspierre's Last Chance (Jaspierre Trilogy Book 3)

by Mixi J Applebottom

  Jaspierre looked down at her hands, then back at the big blue eyes staring at her. "I haven't learned how to be a normal mom to you. You got stolen from me before I could learn anything. If we had those years together, I would already be better, and you would already understand me. But now we skipped ahead. And while you were growing, I was growing angry. I waited in a prison cell for years. I waited for your whole life, just to defend you. I was going to kill Chance--you know, the man with the face." She gestured on herself to where the scars that littered Chance's face would be. Lucille's eyes grew wide and she scrambled backwards on the bed. She knew Chance. She knew him.

  "I can kill him if you want me to." Lucille frantically nodded. "I am sorry. I don't want to be this angry person. I don't want to throw you in the pool, or slap you, screw you up any worse." Jaspierre's own hot tears fell. "Just give me a chance. And I will learn to be a good mom. I even got parenting books. They have this thing called peaceful parenting, where we don't yell and I give you choices. It's supposed to let you have control and me have control. I think that's going to help. We're in this together."

  Lucille very nervously reached out a tiny little hand and put it on top of Jaspierre. She was still silent, but that little touch made Jaspierre feel so much better. Jaspierre suddenly hugged the little girl. Lucille hugged her back tightly. And for the first moment, Jaspierre suddenly loved the little girl. But right then, the bedroom door opened.

  "I need some help," Arnold said. There was a sense of urgency in his voice.

  Chapter

  Thirty-Eight

  "I'm sorry to tell you, Edward, but you probably already know. We can't..." The doctor adjusted his white shirt a little bit. "We can't just undo everything." The nurse looked at her feet, sniffling. He started clicking his pen nervously. "I'm sorry. You are going to have to learn to re-walk without them. There are a few things we can do, in your shoes and such, to make you as comfortable as possible, but it's difficult process to learn to walk when you have no toes."

  Edward was not looking at either of them. His eyes were focused on the curtain. Standard hospital room curtain, hideous mint green color. Was it six feet tall or eight feet? He couldn't look at them.

  "I'm so sorry," the nurse said, sniffling harder and suddenly exiting the room.

  "Look, the rest of it..." The doctor sat on the edge of the bed. "Listen, we can fix eighty percent. Well, at least fifty percent of it. You won't ever be the same. But you won't have to keep this."

  Edward clenched his jaw, trembling with rage. "Fifty percent? Fucking fifty percent is the best you can do?"

  "It's not that easy. I mean, look at yourself. Have you even looked? Have you? This isn't something I can just snap my fingers and fix." The doctor was starting to shout. "I'm not a miracle worker! I didn't do this to you. I'm just trying to give you some semblance of a life."

  "I thought tattoos could be removed now," Edward said. His words were limp, defeated.

  "We sort of can; it'll take a while. Yes, we can make them look better. If tattoos were the only problem, it would be a lot easier to promise it. But the burns, goddamn it. Not only are they infected, but they have been tattooed over. Any improvement is just going to be a miracle."

  Edward said nothing, staring at the hideous mint-colored curtain. He wondered idly if any of the staff ever stole them to use as massive shower curtains. If he wrapped them around his body, how many layers would it be when he got to the end? He'd be a human burrito. He grew numb.

  "I am sorry." The doctor stood up, grasping his clipboard. "I wish there was more I could do." He walked to the door and then paused. "Do you want me to call anyone?"

  Edward turned his mutilated face back to the doctor and, with intensity, said, "Yes. Call her."

  Chapter

  Thirty-Nine

  Chance was really tired, really fucking tired of waiting around.

  All he needed was Edward to give Jaspierre the message. And then he'd just strut himself up to the front door like he belonged, and she would open it and welcome him.

  It was strange that after her eager offer of oral bliss, she would just disappear. Really fucking strange. Okay, if he was honest with himself, it wasn't that strange. He expected so much more from Jaspierre than from a normal woman. Face it, she was no more special than any of the other slutty whores he slept with. She was just a bunch of warm holes too. He got all caught up with her letting him put it in and he completely lost sight of everything.

  Why the hell was he building her a house, preparing for their children, doing all this fucking shit, when she wasn't waiting for him? She wasn't doing anything, anything at all. She wasn't ready for him. She wouldn't even blow him on the side of the road. It was like she didn't like him. After he kept Lucille safe all these years? What the hell did he have to do to impress her!

  Fuck. His legs still hurt where the bullet had punched through his meaty thigh. It still hurt a lot; in fact, it had grown red and infected. When he stared at it, he couldn't remember what happened.

  Jaspierre, love of his life, left him to die. Again. Over and over, she would leave him to die. What the fuck was wrong with her?

  He sat in his newly stolen blood red truck, right outside Jaspierre's perfect gate. He started to think that he could smell her, that her scent was drifting through the air erotically in front of him. The scent felt thick and tangible, like pudding. Like a thick vanilla pudding. He could feel the texture of it in his mouth, rolling across his tongue. He could taste her. She tasted like an adventure. She tasted like perfection baked with a little bit of hell.

  He closed his eyes, remembering when he grew bigger and bigger and he almost exploded off the planet and somehow, somehow, she could still ground him. She pulled him out of space and time itself. She was the only woman who had ever done that. The only woman who could do that. All other women were inferior; that was why they were so weak. Women were weak, useless creatures. Men weren't any better. The only person on this entire planet who understood when he was starting to spiral out of control, and still managed to ground him, and still somehow managed to love him was Jaspierre.

  Jaspierre was the only one who hadn't died. He would've killed her by now if she had stopped escaping. She was literally the only woman who hurt him. Physically injured him. How could she even do that? He was invincible! He could climb up a mountain after being smashed by a vehicle, completely uninjured. And yet somehow, she had burned him alive. Somehow, she had driven a knife into the crook of his neck, rendering him leaking blood for days on end. How could she do that? Was she kryptonite? She was his only weakness, his better half, and he was tired of waiting.

  He slid big fat sunglasses over his scarred face. Then, he pressed the accelerator, revving the engine of the big truck he had stolen. He would be back in the morning and they would have it out. She owed him. He shifted the machine guns on the seat next to him.

  Or she would give him back Lucille.

  Chapter

  Forty

  Jaspierre, Arnold, and Lucille went down the stairs behind the fireplace. "I'm so sorry, I didn't really mean for it to go like this. I messed up," Arnold said quickly.

  Jaspierre could immediately see the problem. The large, very angry Asian man wandering down the hallway at the bottom of the spiral staircase. He was mad as hell, slamming into the walls and repeatedly screaming at the top of his lungs. The room to his door was open.

  "You let him out of his room," said Jaspierre.

  "I didn't mean to. I'm sorry," Arnold said.

  Jaspierre slipped in front of the controls, quickly switching levers, pressing buttons. A loud hissing noise started to curl from the downstairs hallway, but the Asian man did not fall unconscious.

  "Shit. Dru must have used up all the gas," Jaspierre grabbed a lever, slid it out of the console, suddenly revealing a large, sharp blade. "At least he left this here. I'll have to take care of him the old-fashioned way – chop chop, here we go." She pressed one more button as she stood and walked to
the door. The door, smooth and white at the top of the spiral staircase, slid open. The large Asian man charged up the spiral staircase; he was like a bear, a giant raving mad animal. His assault was so fast and so quick charging forward, that he knocked Jaspierre off her feet. Her blade was lodged deep in his belly, and she twisted it quickly. The man let out a cry of pain, and then immediately started convulsing, spurting blood all over her.

  "Dammit. So fucking disgusting." Jaspierre wiggled and squirmed her way out from under the large, overweight man. "You have to clean this all up, Arnold. Fuck. That was not how I wanted this to go down."

  Lucille suddenly let out a scream. Her hands covered her face, and she was terrified.

  Jaspierre let out an exasperated scream of her own. "Lucille, calm down." The blood was still dripping off her dress, dripping off her blade. What was wrong with Lucille that she couldn't understand that the world was kill or get killed? "Lucille. He would have killed you. He would've killed me, Arnold, and you. He would've killed Tessa, Ikali, and those other little servals that you haven't named yet. He is a mad man. So calm down." She picked up Lucille and hugged her tightly. "I'm sorry you got frightened." She struggled to give her a choice. "Do you want to go upstairs now or stay with me?" Lucille grabbed her tightly.

  Arnold was already grabbing his arm and trying to drag the man upstairs. "Let's get him in the fireplace. I'd like to get mopping." He didn't say anything else, but Jaspierre could see his mouth clicking the one-two-three-four over and over and over. All this blood on these white floors must have been driving him mad.

  "Honey, I have to help get him upstairs okay?" She kissed the little girl and set her back on the floor. She grabbed the other arm and they clunked the big massive man up the stairs while Lucille stood trembling nearby. Once they loaded him into the fireplace, Arnold disappeared back down the stairs and Lucille and Jaspierre were left in her office.

  "Have you burned a corpse before?" Jaspierre said to Lucille.

  The little wide-eyed frightened girl shook her head back and forth.

  "I'm going to show you the woodpile. I would like you to bring wood in here, okay? I will take a shower and be right back." Jaspierre grabbed Lucille's little hand and took her outdoors to the woodpile. Without saying another word, she handed Lucille the handle to a small wooden wagon.

  Jaspierre found herself racing up the stairs, showering quickly, her blood-soaked dress on the floor. She slipped on her grey soft T-shirt dress and raced back downstairs with a towel still on her head. She had forgotten to give Lucille a choice. Was she being a better mother yet? The child had seemed a lot calmer. Jaspierre felt different too, more concerned for her desires and less focused on making her talk.

  "Have you ever even lit a fire before?" she said to the little girl, who was carefully pulling in her third wagon of wood. The pile wasn't very big yet. But she was studious and had not paused for even a moment the whole time Jaspierre was gone. Her bright blue eyes stared up at Jaspierre, and she shook her curls back and forth. No.

  "Did you learn anything with those people? I bet they just gave you lollipops and told you to be a princess." Jaspierre grinned at her and then handed Lucille the little book of matches. She took her own book of matches and showed Lucille how to pull the match quickly to light it.

  Lucille ruined five of ten matches before she finally got one to spark and light. When she finally got it, Lucille and Jaspierre smiled at each other. The beautiful bonding moment. A moment she remembered having with her mother, only with less hitting.

  This wasn't like that; this was beautiful. The match went out long before Lucille could get a little piece paper lit that Jaspierre had sat on the bloody belly of the Asian man. But she had four more matches. By the time she finally got it lit, there were two matches left. Pretty damn good for a four-year-old.

  "Good job." Jaspierre tried to remember any of the other details of the parenting book she had read. "You are very smart." Lucille looked up with big eyes and almost smiled.

  They set all of the burned matches onto the piece of paper, building a little tiny bonfire.

  She added a little bit of kindling, a few logs, and soon, maybe an hour into their little fire-building adventure, they had a real roaring bonfire. The kind worth jumping over.

  Jaspierre looked at the little girl, and finally seemed to be smiling. "You did a really good job."

  Chapter

  Forty-One

  The Asian man was barely crisped in the fire when Jaspierre got a call.

  Viscardine, her mother's website, had gone down. Jaspierre tried to register what this meant, but she couldn't process it. It had gone down, all the way down. More than half her staff had been arrested. All the secrets that Mother had for so long were suddenly revealed. In fact, the website itself had gone nuclear.

  Dru had managed a final blow. The website somehow leaked information: addresses, phone numbers, names, and most importantly, crimes. Lots and lots and lots of criminal activity was revealed. Kyller and Co. would struggle in the wake. As far as Jaspierre knew, all of them had been hired from Viscardine. Every single staff member.

  And at least half had already been arrested. If they were in prison, they wouldn't be back to work. Her cash-generating company had been decapitated. She had no idea where she would hire more staff, or how to hire more staff. She didn't know how much Severina had set up that was illegal, but when the entire staff was criminal delinquents, it was very likely that the company did illegal things. It wasn't usually a big deal-- a community of criminals protects itself.

  It was only a big deal if the community collapsed. She scrambled to see if she had any money left. If the coffers had been filled, even a little, before the crisis.

  And yes, she had much more than she had had a week ago. About two million now. But it wasn't enough. She wasn't sure that she could single-handedly lift the company back to it's glorious greatness. How could she do that with no capital?

  Fucking Dru. He somehow had managed to destroy her. He was pretty damn invested in making her hurt. In making her writhe.

  No. It wasn't her. He didn't want to hurt her. He wanted to hurt Severina. She was the woman he wanted to take down. She was dead. The best he could do was destroy her legacy, her daughter, her home.

  And he was doing one hell of a job. Had done. He had done one hell of a job.

  What the fuck was she supposed to do now? Work at McDonald's? It was laughable. Her empire would never be the same, not after this. She scheduled a board meeting, and an hour later, she was sitting at the head of table.

  She waited, but it was futile. Not one board member showed. Fuck, I am so screwed. Fact was, she was still on probation. And even though she had quite comfortably skittered off to Canada and back, she couldn't possibly escape at least a slap on the wrist for fraternizing with criminals.

  Her criminals--her staff. All of the cogs of her machine had fallen out. Did she know how to build it back together?

  She had a daughter to think about, so she sure as hell was going to try.

  Chapter

  Forty-Two

  In the middle of the night, Jaspierre awoke with Ikali and Tessa curled on her bed. They hadn't slept in the same bed since before she had gone to prison. It was wonderful to have her moment. The world was almost right again.

  But Kyller and Co. was on her mind, and despite her lovely pets giving her attention that she adored, she knew she had a people crisis. She couldn't hire any more of the right kind of people. That was what Mother called them. The right kind of people. Dru had called them that too.

  She sat up straight when she suddenly realized what she did have. She had people. She had people in her basement. They might or might not suit her purposes, but they were certainly an excellent place to start. She rolled it around in her head. There were two beautiful ways to repurpose these people. The ones that weren't a good fit to work with--she could get them lumped in with the people being arrested; hell, maybe she could keep her best staff and simply rena
me them. It was an interesting idea, to place the malformed monsters in prison, and allow her staff to reign supreme.

  She had finally started to learn how to be a good mama, and had solved part of the problem of the people in the basement. Now she still had to come up with a plan for Chance, for he would rear his ugly head any moment now.

  She rested her hand on Tessa's sweet head, and they slept, sound and safe, together as family.

  Chapter

  Forty-Three

  Jaspierre lifted Lucille into her car seat. The pride of being a proper mother was swelling in her chest. Lucille still hadn't spoken a word, but this whole give her two choices thing was working out great. "Do you want to go to get ice cream or a toy?" Jaspierre would hold out each hand like an option, and Lucille would point.

  Then they'd both laugh and laugh and be happy forever. Lucille was so smart she helped Jaspierre buckle the seat, and then they rambled down the road together. They got ice cream at a little shop and Lucille sat across from Jaspierre and everything seemed wonderful. "So, Lucille, I came up with a great way to save the family business. And I'm so happy! You and I are good friends now, aren't we?"

  Lucille took a big bite of sprinkle-coated vanilla ice cream and gave a thumbs-up with her mouth full.

  "I know we have had rather a rough start to things, but I think once Kyller and Co. gets back on track, we'll be doing great. Did you name any of the servals yet?"

  Lucille made a thumbs-up again and continued eating her ice cream.

  "I wish you'd just tell me! Do you want me to guess?" Jaspierre said, and they were both smiles and giggles. Sure, Lucille wasn't talking, but that raging anger that Jaspierre had been struggling with seemed to have dissipated. She had so much more compassion for the child and her struggles. It had been a hard week for the girl. This was the only time she really seemed to be happy. Jaspierre had been reading that children needed happy touches multiple times a day. She leaned forward and touched her arm gently.