Jaspierre Excerpt


Jaspierre drove the green car down the road, trying not to draw attention to herself. She still had two hours left before she and Lucas would meet up. She glanced at the gas gauge; it was full. Good. Nothing to fuss with there. She drove away from everything and tried to clear her head. Her car was wrecked and sitting in that lake. Chance was one step ahead. She should have paused and killed him instead of driving off in that cop car. What the hell will I do next? Mindlessly, she turned onto the highway and set the cruise control for fifty-five miles per hour. Getting pulled over was not on the agenda. She glanced at the large pile of bullets and guns on the seat. It seemed absurd to her. She had hardly even seen a gun in person before today, and now she had enough for her own goddamn army. Chance, though, had proven he wasn’t just a sick pervert, but he was dangerous. Seriously dangerous. Why else would he have so many guns? She thought it would be easy to eviscerate him, but now she wasn’t so sure.
The four-lane highway merged into a small two-lane road. She kept driving down the empty road. How the hell was she going to kill him now? Her face was flushed and anger was starting to build. She hadn’t factored explosives and bullets into the equation; every altercation with him so far hadn’t involved either. A few minutes later, a yellow sports car, clipping along at a fast pace caught up to her. Two yellow lines stood on their left. The young man in the car swerved back and forth behind her, peeking around to see if he could pass. There was now, of course, oncoming traffic. The road was always clear unless some asshole was trying to pass illegally. He swerved back behind her, pressing his nose into her car’s ass as far as he could without clipping it. Jaspierre rolled her eyes. What the fuck. The last thing she felt like dealing with was an asshole on the road. The hairs on her neck rose and she clenched the wheel tighter. Don’t do anything stupid, she tried to convince herself.
The road curved up ahead, and as she turned, he swerved again, looking for a way to go around. He nearly smashed into a semi-truck coming the other direction. He veered back, over-correcting and skidding on the gravel. Fucker. Then he honked at her as if it was her fault the speed limit existed. She slowed down, and he honked again, swerving his car back and forth, tailing her, peeking around her car so he could pass on the double yellow as soon as he found room. Fuck this shit. She cracked; she never had learned to manage her rage. She saw nobody was coming at them for a while, so she turned her car hard to the left and slammed on the brakes. Her car skidded sideways and she prepared for his impact. He managed to stop in the nick of time, and the nose of his car was inches from her back door when they both squealed to a stop. Honking repeatedly, he opened his car door. He screamed profanities.
Jaspierre picked up the rocket launcher and stepped out of her car, pressing it tight to her shoulder. Without hesitating, she pulled the trigger, but the safety was on. He stared for a moment, and then slammed his car door shut, frantically trying to get into reverse. She looked at the gun and grinned. Ah, so easy, right at her thumb. Pressed the little switch and braced herself.

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