Chapter Six
Baxter had already gone to work by the time Piper woke up the next morning. She stretched her body, which was still feeling jelly-like from the previous night and grinned. That had been intense!
She had been afraid that desire would overcome good sense, but Patrick had stood at the end of the bed watching them, hands gripping the footboard and hadn't moved. It had been a little awkward at first, but at the same time, it was thrilling. Piper never thought she would like being watched, but it had made everything much more… explosive.
Breakfast was waiting for her after she showered and dressed. Piper's eyes widened at the spread. Pancakes, waffles, French toast, bacon, sausages. Her mouth watered and her stomach grumbled.
"Breakfast is the most important meal of the day," Patrick said, pulling out a chair for her.
"You cook?" She couldn't keep the surprise out of her voice.
"My parents said that my hockey career wouldn't go anywhere, so I went to college to be a chef. I enjoyed cooking. I actually own a couple of restaurants in the city. But once I got onto the hockey team here, it was like all my dreams came true and I retired my apron. Except for special customers," he grinned at her, sitting across the table. "How do you feel this morning?"
"How do I feel in general or how to I feel about a polyamorous relationship?"
"Either."
"I feel… hungry."
It was all she wanted to say on the matter and so she began eating. Patrick laughed but left it at that. They chatted about his home life for a while. Both his parents were still alive and lived up north in Edmonton and they were both proud of his achievements–although they were prouder of his successful business ventures than they were of his hockey skills. He had the two restaurants, plus quite a bit of other successful investments.
"So you're like… rich?" Piper asked cautiously.
"Well… I suppose you could say that. Does that change things?"
"I don't know… I don't want to be a gold-digger," Piper picked at her food, suddenly nervous. "So when you bought my painting of Baxter and commissioned another one—"
"I like your work. I wasn't trying to bribe you. But the three of us would be comfortable and I'd want to take care of you."
"The truth is I'm not sure if I could handle it. I mean, Baxter is so mellow and you're… well, you're kind of demanding."
Patrick had the decency to look abashed. He bit into a sausage and glanced up through his lashes, long and thick, almost feminine, at her.
"That's the Alpha in me. I do what I want, I take what I want and I want to lavish the ones I care for. Sometimes I forget that my way isn't the only way."
"And when you and Bax kissed last night it made me a little jealous."
"And seeing you and him together made me jealous. I'm sure he felt the same way when you and I kissed. I thought it made things more exciting. A little jealousy is healthy for a relationship. As long as it doesn't get to Othello levels."
Everything he said sounded so damn convincing. Piper finished her breakfast, thinking hard. Maybe this was going to be a good thing. Maybe she didn't have anything to be worried about.
"Okay, she said slowly. "So why did you pick me and Baxter? It's something I don't really get."
Patrick leaned back, studying her. "I've seen you two off and on at games over the years. I've always liked the way you two looked at each other. And then, at that last game, I heard Baxter screaming and I was distracted. I'm never distracted while I'm on the ice. Then our eyes met and I scored a goal while looking at you, and I just knew."
Piper couldn't help but giggle. "Because you scored a goal? Don't you do that a million times every season?"
"Because I was ready to take the risk of getting my heart broken and I knew that you two were worth the risk. It's a wolf thing."
"Baxter said the same thing about why he started talking to me during prom," Piper smiled at the memory.
"Anything else?"
"I'm full, thanks."
"I meant other concerns." Patrick's smile widened.
"I'll have to think about that. But I ought to get to the gallery. Lots of work to do."
Only that wasn't going to be the case.
***
Piper stared around in horror. Glass crunched beneath her feet, the only sound besides the beating of her heart that could work itself into her brain. This could not be real. It couldn't be happening. She was in a nightmare, a terrible, terrible nightmare that she would wake up from at any moment.
All the gallery windows had been smashed. The display cases smashed. Ceramics had been thrown to the ground, kicked to pieces. The paintings were slashed, ribbons of canvas hanging in their frames. Stone sculptures were cracked in half, and the metal ones had been blasted by magic, reducing them to twisted heaps.
Piper covered her mouth with a hand, her stomach churning.
Worse was when the police came and told her the new security system hadn't engaged. It appeared to have not been turned on at all. No magical tampering found.
She could have sworn she turned on the system when she left the gallery the previous day. She played it over and over in her mind. Had she made a mistake? Had the installers? What was she going to do now? She had all her hopes tied up in this art, and now that it was gone she'd had to pay the artists for the damage.
Piper closed her eyes and drowned out the sound of glass crunching beneath her feet. It's insured. It's insured.
***
"The police report clearly indicates that the security system was not engaged," the insurance broker said, looking sympathetic but unyielding. "I'm afraid there's nothing I can do for you."
Piper wanted to hex the little man but somehow managed to find her feet and leave the insurance offices without a meltdown. Adding jail time for hexing these people would not help her situation at all. Her blood pumped through her ears and she didn't know what to do now, so she walked along the frozen streets until her face and hands were as numb as her soul.
She'd lost everything.
Worse, she'd lost tens of thousands of dollars' worth of art that was only in her shop on commission. The angry artists who had trusted her were demanding their cut of the money had their art been sold. The landlord she rented the space from was demanding that she pay for the property damage since it was her fault the security system hadn't done its job.
That was still something she just could not figure out. She knew she had set the security system before locking up. That was one thing she would never, ever forget to do, and yet for all purposes, it appeared that she had.
She was ruined for life. Her art degree was useless for getting a job in this town and it would take the rest of her life to pay off these debts.
Patrick flicked into her mind, but she shoved thoughts of him away. She wasn't going to take his money if she was going to decide against the trois amour and she wasn't going to agree to a three-way mating just so that she wouldn't feel guilty about taking his money.
After phoning Baxter so he wouldn’t worry, Piper went to a bar. Somewhere in her brain she knew this was a bad idea, knew she couldn't afford to get drunk at this time–both literally and metaphorically–but she didn't care. She just didn't want to think.
But she did think.
After one beer she thought, I bet Thor Wragge was behind this somehow. He got tired of trying to bully me out and decided to destroy my life instead.
After two beers, I turned on that security system. He must have learned the codes and turned it off. He was spying on me that whole time. That's how he knew to take my mother's painting.
After three beers, He probably bribed the people at the security place. He found out exactly how to stop it from engaging and broke in the night before to put a paperclip or something in it so it wouldn't engage when I turned the system on. That's what he did.
Four. And then he waited until nighttime when nobody was around and broke in.
Five. He destroyed everything. Oh, god, what am I going to do now? How can I get out of this? Can I declare bankruptcy? Will my debts just transfer over to Baxter?
Six. Bastard! I hate him. It's not like I was any real competition to him anyway!
Seven. I'm going to make him pay.
It was very late by this time, but as Piper left the bar she didn't seem to feel the cold. She also seemed to be full of energy and walked to where she knew Wragge lived. He lived in the pretty suburbs with their trees and Christmas decorations still up. She walked true and strong, although some stupid assholes occasionally drove on the sidewalk.
Once she reached Wragge's house, she was at a loss. If I had eggs, I'd have something to do to him. Wait a minute. I have magic!
It took a moment for her to remember the spell, then waved her hand above the space over his house, creating two large neon signs that brightened the whole street. Vandal, the signs flashed, thief.
Piper giggled, enjoying the buzz of alcohol in her brain. She painted a scene with her magic, Thor Wragge naked with a stupid look on his face. She made sure to give him a teeny tiny member. Then she painted flames all around him, crackling and seething. Go to hell.
Wragge stormed out of his house, tying a robe. He scowled at the sight of her. Piper drew her hands back.
"Loqui quasi hedum!" she shouted, pointing all her fingers at the enraged man. A bolt of green light shot from her hands and struck Wragge's throat.
He stumbled back, eyes going wide, clawing at his neck. He opened his mouth— "Baa!"
Piper laughed. She quickly added donkey ears and a curly pig tail. "Act like an animal, become an animal!" she shouted. "Act like an animal, become an animal! Act like an animal, become an animal! Go to hell, Wragge!"