Page 38

PIPER

T he rest of the night is a blur of dancing and laughter.

It’s the best night I’ve had in a long time.

And that’s messed up because I saw at least four people poisoned tonight.

Two of them deserved it, though, to be fair.

Ambrose and I are waiting by the bar while Bram tries to gather Ava from the dance floor.

She and Odie are determined to dance until the last song is done.

Roman is finishing up a drink, and I consider my options. Pretend like he didn’t walk in on me and Ambrose earlier? Apologize.

“Hey, I’m really sorry about earlier,” I finally choke out, looking anywhere but at Roman.

“Don’t talk about it. I never want to think about Ambrose’s dick ever again.” He throws back the rest of his drink and shudders.

“What did you say?” Josephine asks, confused.

“Nothing,” Roman and I both call out. Ambrose just laughs.

Ambrose has his arm around my waist. My feet are sore from the heels. I’m ready to wash my face and crawl into bed, but I lean into his side, also not wanting to be anywhere else in the world.

“Piper,” a man sings my name and my stomach drops.

Harley Dustin slides into the spot at the bar in front of me.

His eyes take in my devilish dress and widen.

When he looks at Ambrose, his brow furrows and he straightens to shift closer to me.

“It’s been a while. You’re looking good. Did you get a haircut?”

A wash of emotions crashes over me. The sad hopefulness I would feel when Harley would text me a completely non-creative “you up.” The way I was desperate for anyone to show me some physical attention.

The need to just be touched like a human.

And even when I hesitated, thinking not tonight, I would let him come over because nobody else wanted me.

It was always on his terms or whenever it was convenient for him, but maybe I used him too.

To momentarily fill an emptiness that always felt worse afterward.

“I’m just about to get out of here. You wanna come with?”

Ambrose is silent beside me, but I feel his anger growing the longer Harley stares at me.

“Piper, why don’t you introduce us?” Ambrose says good-naturedly, but I hear the knife edge just under his words.

I’ll admit, I take a large amount of satisfaction in the annoyed look on Harley’s face. “This is Ambrose Roth. Ambrose, this is Harley Dustin.”

“Oh hey, this is your club, right? You must get a lot of perks from being the owner.” Harley’s gaze drags between me and Ambrose, implying that whatever I’m doing with him it’s for entry into this club.

“Harley Dustin?” Ambrose says thoughtfully. “My wife told me about you.”

I take a step back, but Ambrose keeps me tethered to his side. I want to go hide in a corner.

Harley’s eyes drift to Ambrose’s hand on my hip. “You don’t look like you’re married. Who’s your wife? I feel bad for her.” Harley laughs.

Ambrose chuckles along with him. “Piper’s my wife. I don’t know, Pipes. Should we feel bad for you?”

I want to tell him to leave me out of whatever this pissing match is, but he’s still holding me tight.

Harley’s face morphs into a shocked mask. “You got married? He married you?”

“I think the better question is: why would she marry me? Because it sounds like you were insulting my wife.”

Harley ignores Ambrose and lifts his chin with a sneer. “When did you get married? I didn’t even know you’re seeing someone.”

“I wasn’t aware you were keeping up with my private life.” How has this conversation turned into a pile on Piper-fest. I don’t want to be here, but now Harley is going to insult me in one breath and accuse me of being a cheater in the next. Fuck that.

“Oh, I know all about your private life,” Harley sneers. I haven’t seen him for at least six months. And the thought that I’ve done stuff with him makes my stomach revolt.

Ambrose snaps his fingers. “Oh, that’s right. Piper, isn’t he the guy you said never once made you come? Really, Harley, you should work on that.”

I smack a hand over my eyes and duck out from Ambrose’s arm. “All right, it’s time to go.”

Except Harley pushes Ambrose. “She’s a fucking liar, man.”

Ambrose straightens out to his full height. Harley isn’t small, but he’s not as tall or broad as Ambrose.

“You did not just call my wife a liar. I know your type. I highly doubt you’ve gotten anyone off but yourself in your entire life.”

“Oh yeah, and you’re Mr. Pleasure over here.”

I can’t believe they’re fighting over orgasms. My orgasms.

Harley swings at Ambrose. He ducks and lands a punch to Harley’s stomach. The others finally come off the dance floor and Ava hooks her arm through mine. “What is going on? Is that Harley Dustin?”

“Yeah, and they’re fighting over orgasms.” I glare at the two of them. I’m not sure who I’m more embarrassed for, them or me?

“Whose orgasms?” Ava cries out way too loud.

“I’ll be outside.” I sigh, turn my back on the fighting, and hurry toward the front door.

Ava’s arm is still hooked in mine, and she whines as I tug her away. “But I want to see them punch each other.”

“Oh my God.” I’m mortified, and fine, just the tiniest bit elated, that Ambrose is standing up for me.

In the weirdest way possible. Still, there’s something about him defending me that feels really good.

Which I know is so wrong, because as much of an asshole as Harley is, he probably doesn’t deserve to get his face punched. Actually, no, he definitely does.

Ambrose comes out a few minutes later, practically being dragged by Roman and Bram. Stellan looks like he’s having an incredible time as he walks out with Josephine and Odie. For someone who works with kids, he has a really dark sense of humor. Or maybe that’s a prerequisite.

Ambrose shrugs off Roman and Bram and comes to a stop in front of me. He shakes out his hands and there’s a bruise starting to form on his jaw. “I can’t believe you let that douche touch you.”

I reel back. “Excuse me,” I whisper. We are not going to do this. I feel my friends sucking in air and moving away from the two of us.

“He’s such an asshole. Do you like guys like that? People who treat you like you’re just some body to get off on.”

“I don’t think you have any room to talk about using women.” I step into his space, our chests pressing together.

“They always knew there’d be nothing more. I was never dishonest with them.”

As if the universe has summoned a reminder to put Ambrose in his place, a dark-haired woman comes out of the shadows and flings herself onto Ambrose. I’m knocked aside, and he grunts as she throws herself into his arms. Her face is streaked with tears as she looks up at him in adoration.

“I’ve been waiting, baby. They wouldn’t let me inside.

I tried to get in, but they must hate you.

Trying to keep us apart. They didn’t understand that I’m yours and that we need to be together.

” The words come out in a rushed jumble.

The woman is short and curvy, and her knees are torn up and bloody.

One of the bouncers comes around and tries to peel the woman off Ambrose. “When we didn’t let her in, she tried to crawl through a back window. She fell. The bouncers found her and told her to leave.”

This is another one of the girls Ambrose kissed. I throw my hands up in the air. I know I should feel sorry for her. She can’t help her feelings because of his damn curse, but I’m just pissed. I’m pissed at her. I’m pissed at Ambrose. I’m pissed at this fucking town.

Ambrose gets out his phone.

“Hey, Ashley. Yeah, Tonya’s at Heathens. Do you think you can come get her?”

“I don’t want to see Ashley. I’m leaving with you,” Tonya cries as the bouncer holds her back.

“Exactly how many family members of the girls you’ve kissed do you have in your contacts?’ My words are a little slurred. So what? I’m drunk.

Ambrose pinches the bridge of his nose. Tonya is yowling. “Just go wait over there, Piper,” Ambrose snaps. It’s a command.

“Fuck you,” I hiss, sniffling as I try not to cry. I may not have a choice in moving, but I stomp all the way over to the wall.

“Piper.” He sounds broken. Tonya is petting his neck and Ambrose keeps moving her hands off his body, looking miserable.

The night gets worse as a misting rain begins to fall.

It’s not long before we’re soaked and freezing while we wait for Ashely.

Ambrose finally agrees to hold the woman’s hand so she’ll calm down.

He’s not looking at me, but that’s fine.

I don’t want to see his face right now anyway.

Josephine is our designated driver so everyone is waiting together.

What was an incredible night has turned into a complete mess.

When Ashely pulls up in a beat-up Honda, Ambrose guides Tonya over to the car. I can’t hear what he says to her because they’re too far away, but whatever it is, Tonya agrees to get inside and waves as they drive off.

The drive back to the chateau is quiet. For the first time since I married Ambrose, I want to go back to my apartment and be alone.

Not wanting to make a bigger scene than we’ve already had tonight, I quietly say goodnight to the others.

I’m not sure if they even realize Ambrose used my hex against me.

I head inside the chateau and up to my room.

I wash my face, wiggle out of Odie’s tight dress, and throw on a pair of sweats and a warm sweatshirt.

Instead of going to bed, I head back downstairs to the library.

I light the kindling in the fireplace. Knowing how much I love the crackling warmth of the fire, Ambrose has taken to having logs ready to go.

All I have to do is strike a match and hold it to the crumbled-up newspaper and dried sticks and then wait for the logs to catch.

I pick up one of the books stacked on the table.

I need to figure out how to break this hex once and for all.

I’m sick of relying on other people to do right by me.

I want to be the only one who owns my actions.

I stare down at the book, not taking in any of the words. I’m a little too drunk to be reading, but I don’t care. My mind is too turbulent for sleep, and all my thoughts float around in a whirlpool that sucks me in toward Ambrose.

The sound of fabric rustling behind me alerts me to Ambrose’s presence.

He doesn’t say anything but sits in a chair next to the couch where I’ve taken up residence.

He’s wearing a pair of his silk pajama bottoms and a robe that flows open.

I’m pissed at him, so I don’t want to admire how damn hot he looks.

Even if his outfit is ridiculous, he pulls it off, and it’s infuriating.

He leans forward and picks up a book off the table, still staying silent.

The mist has turned to freezing rain outside and the only sound besides our breathing is the sleet pinging against the windows.

Out there it’s cold and miserable. In here it’s warm and miserable. So I guess I have that going for me.

I flip the page of my book even though I haven’t read a word. The crisp sound of the heavy paper is loud in the silence.

“I’m sorry, Piper.”

Closing my book, I hold it to my chest as a shield. I stare at the fire, not ready to look at Ambrose yet. “For what? Which part of that are you sorry about?”

Ambrose sucks in a deep breath. “I’m not sorry for punching that asshole. He deserved it.”

That’s debatable. I didn’t let Harley do anything I didn’t agree to. Even if he used me, in a way, I used him too.

“But I am sorry for commanding you.” He curses as he throws his book down and drags a hand through his hair. “And for my fucking curse. The fact that my actions and bad decisions keep popping up to remind me–and you–that I’m a fuckup.”

When I look over at Ambrose, his head is hanging. He looks destroyed.

It would be really easy to accept his apology and pretend like this is all okay, but I don’t know that it is. Nothing is okay right now. This whole situation is messed up.

“I don’t think I’m ready to accept your apology for commanding me tonight. I really don’t care about you beating up Harley. Maybe that makes me a bad person, but it is what it is.” I trace the frayed edge of my book, the binding old and worn.

“How many more girls are there?” I don’t even know why I’m asking, because I don’t think I want to know. But they keep surfacing like a bad penny, one after the next.

“That’s all, Piper. I promise, there aren’t any others. And I know I fucked up when I gave you that command. I wasn’t thinking.” Ambrose’s eyes move over the books on the table. “Is that why you’re down here?”

“I need to break this hex, Ambrose.” I rub my eyes, my shoulders sagging with fatigue. I think I’ve hit the stage of drunkness where I’m so tired I could pass out at any minute. “Honestly, it wasn’t right for me to come to you that night and ask you to marry me. It was too big a favor.”

Ambrose moves off the chair and drops to the floor in front of me. He grabs my hands and clasps them between his. “I’m glad you came to me that night. We’ve been distracted, and I haven’t been helping you figure this hex out as much as I should, but I promise I’ll make it a priority.”

“I know. Maybe in the morning, though.” I drop my book on the couch. Ambrose springs to his feet and pulls me to standing.

“In the morning,” he promises and leads me upstairs.

He stops at my room and opens the door. I hesitate. I should go inside alone, but despite being mad I don’t want to sleep without Ambrose next to me.

“Will you stay with me?”

Ambrose lets out a heavy sigh of relief. “I’d love nothing more.”