Chapter Seven
Wragge was pressing charges this time. Vandalism and magical assault.
Fortunately, Piper was let out on bail, as long as she promised that she wasn't going to drink a drop of alcohol and that Baxter wasn't going to leave her alone. It would mean having to go to work with him until after her sentencing, but Piper supposed that was probably the best thing to happen, anyway.
It wasn't like she had anything else to do.
Both Patrick and Baxter came to the jail to pay the bond. Piper stared at her feet as they escorted her back to Patrick's shiny car. She could feel the disappointment rolling off her male, but Patrick seemed rather calm about the whole thing.
"My lawyers are working on your case," he said as he drove them towards their home. "I'm sure they can get the sentence down to malicious magical pranking, rather than assault. They're very good. If you keep your nose clean from now on, they've assured me that you'll just have to do some community service."
Piper slumped down, folding her arms, and frowned out the window. "Until they give me a fine I can't pay, then they're going to lock me up for the rest of my life."
"You don't go to jail for life over something like this," Patrick reached to pat her knee and she pulled away from him.
"Don't touch me!"
A hurt look briefly flashed into Patrick's eyes and he withdrew.
Baxter leaned between the two seats. "Piper doesn't like to be touched or reassured when she's in a funk. It's better to just let her ride it out."
"Really?" Patrick's brows furrowed.
"Yeah. It's my nature to try to make people feel better. But she'll bite off your head for it until she's ready."
"She is sitting right here," Piper snapped. "I want to walk home."
The Werewolves ignored her, although they stopped discussing her surly flaws, which was a plus.
Piper glared out of the window, certain that everybody was stopping and staring at her, knowing what had happened. Uphoria wasn't small enough that everybody knew everybody, but Piper's family was from the town and both sets of grandparents were also born in Uphoria, so a lot of people did know her and would be talking about this.
She wondered, suddenly, how many of them would blame her relationship with a Werewolf for her lack of self-control. Her hands curled as she imagined what they would be saying about Baxter because of this and she wanted to jump out of the car and dare them all to fight her.
Probably not the best thing to do.
When they got home, Piper went to the bedroom and closed herself in the closet. It was dark and roomy, perfect for hiding away in. She heard Baxter and Patrick's voices murmuring from the kitchen but was able to focus on her own thoughts.
Did she regret going after Wragge the way she had? Yes. It had been stupid, impulsive and now had her in even more trouble than before. But she was still certain that he had something to do with all this. How was she supposed to prove it?
Or was it better to just keep her head down and figure a way out of her financial mess instead of focusing on revenge?
The thought made Piper sigh, but now that she was in her safe spot in the closet, she knew that it was the right thing to do. Trying to get Wragge back would only hurt her in the long run. She was already in a hole, there was no point in trying to dig it deeper. And she did have art she could auction to pay off her debts.
It had been her mother's collection and thinking of selling it was like a knife to the heart, but Piper knew she had to. Her mother had collected a lot of rare, expensive pieces. Most of it was worth at least triple now than when they had been purchased.
It would be enough to pay off Piper's debts.
But she'd lose everything her mother left her.
Her dream of a gallery was over. None of the artists she'd been working with would want to trust her again after all the work they gave her to sell was destroyed like that. She was finished.
Heart-heavy but mind made up, Piper dried her eyes and went out to the kitchen. Both Werewolves were waiting for her and Patrick retrieved a slice of blueberry cheesecake, her favorite, from the fridge and passed it to her. The sweet, creamy texture on her tongue felt good and bolstered her courage enough to tell the two what she had decided.
"No," Baxter said instantly, shaking his head. "I've already been talking to your dad about it and he's agreed it's probably best we get away from here. We can sell the house, that will certainly make a dent in your debts and then you don't have to sell all of your mother's collection."
"And then we go live with my dad?" Piper sighed. "It's not feasible."
"We can move to the city. Get a fresh start."
"You hate the city."
Baxter shrugged. "I'm not too fond of Uphoria right now, either. We'll go for one or two years until this whole scandal blows over. Besides, you'll be able to get a gallery going there and you'll have more customers."
Piper smiled, grateful that he would be willing to give up his home for her happiness, but she couldn’t do that to him. He had a job he loved, friends who accepted him as a Werewolf and both of those things were hard to find, even in Uphoria where a good quarter of the population were Werewolves.
"No. It's time for me to grow up."
"In that case, I am going to give you a loan," Patrick said. "We'll set up bimonthly payments that will have it paid back in five years."
Piper stared at him, her jaw dropping open. "Excuse me?"
"And I'll finance a new gallery for you. But in the city. Like Baxter said, it'll be far more profitable there. I have many wealthy friends with a taste for fine art, and you have a good eye. How long will you need before having a gala opening?"
Piper shot up, knocking her chair over. "No!"
Patrick's brows furrowed. "No?"
"No! No, I can't accept this. You're just doing this because you want us for your trois amour and I'm sorry but I won't let myself be bought like this!"
Baxter gasped and Patrick's eyes narrowed. He slowly stood and once more Piper was reminded that every inch of his height was pure muscle. They bunched together as he tensed, jaw grinding together.
Piper glared right back at him, not letting herself be intimidated into submission. She was not going to let him convince her to enter a lifelong three-way relationship just because he was rich!
"If I was trying to buy you, Ms. Diamond, I would have gotten you a fancy car and more jewelry than you could wear in a lifetime. This is no more than what I do for any friend of mine, give them a leg up when they need it, but expect accountability in return. And your gallery is a business venture. One that I think could be very successful. I'm not just going to give you the property and the money you need to collect the art, it's an investment that I damn well expect returns from."
Piper's face heated and she had no idea how to respond to him. Every word rang with the truth and she felt herself shrinking into herself, ashamed for the accusation she had made. As she opened her mouth to apologize, Patrick stormed out of the house.
Silence hung heavy in the air. Piper slumped back into her chair and hid her face in her arms. Her eyes filled with tears. Eventually, Baxter's fingers brushed hers, cautiously testing if she was safe to comfort. She flipped over her hand and pressed her palm against his.
"I always ruin everything," she whispered.
"No. Not everything."
Piper gave him a watery glare.
"Look, I think accepting Patrick's help is the right thing to do. I know it's hard for you to not do things all on your own, but in this case, we do need help. We can still sell the house and pay back as much as we can with that, but your mom's collection is too important for you to sell."
He stroked some blue hair away from her face. Piper leaned into his touch.
"Would he be doing all this if he didn't want us?"
"I don't know. But you have to understand, for Werewolves, the bond between mates is instant, even before mating. We know exactly who is going to make us happy and from that moment on, our goal is to be with that person. That bond can be broken, but it's not easy. Patrick feels that bond with the two of us, and I feel the bond with him."
Piper's lip wobbled. "What should I do?"
Baxter looked at their hands for a moment. "You need to make your decision. Are you or are you not going to accept the trois amour? I'm sorry and I know it frightens you, but we need to know before the bond gets any stronger. It's going to hurt bad enough if we have to break it."