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I chuckle. “Wow. You and Timofey really are nothing alike.”
“Yeah, well, holding grudges is bad for one’s digestion.” He folds a cloth napkin into a little pyramid and sets it on the table. “Enjoy your rehydrated astronaut food. I’m gonna go make sure Benjamin is still asleep. Then I’ll check the shipment tracking on my new oven. Heads will roll if I don’t get that shit, like,yesterday.”
I start to push away from the table and the work I brought home with me and spread out all over the table. “I should check on Benjamin. It’s my job.”
Akim quickly hip checks the back of my chair and slides me back into the table. “No, I’ll do it. I can’t do my real job right now, anyway. Watching that little bread loaf of a baby is the only thing keeping me from spiraling into a deep, dark depression.”
The last few hours of catching up on case files and diving into work helped get my mind off of Timofey. But Akim’s words bring it all right back.
Timofey’s mom battled depression. In the end, it is what took her away from him.
I know he blames the caseworker who removed him from her care, but I’ve been in that same position before. Being forced to decide between taking care of the children or helping the adults is not an easy place to be in. At the end of the day, though, I work in Child Protective Services. The job description is right there in the name. My duty is always to the child.
I’m sure Timofey’s caseworker felt the same way, whether Timofey can recognize that or not.
Still, someone failed Timofey along the way. For him to end up in Sergey’s home, to be forced down the road he’s still walking… It’s the worst-case scenario.
Which is why I’ve made my choice: I can’t let Benjamin stay in this house. Timofey may not be outright abusive or neglectful, but there is more than one way to abuse a child. In the long run, Benjamin won’t be safe here.
We have to get out.
“Speaking of spiraling,” Akim elbows me lightly in the shoulder, “don’t think so hard. You’ll pull a muscle.”
I blink out of my thoughts and laugh. “I guess the lack of food has me feeling foggy.”
I stab the roast beef and take a bite.
“Well?” he prods.
I give him a grin full of roast beef. “I can’t wait for the kitchen to be up and running again so you can make me something better than this.”
“Oo, don’t talk dirty to me, Piper Quinn. There is nothing I’d rather do.”
Suddenly, there are footsteps across the hardwood floor and Timofey walks in carrying a large box in his arms. “Who is talking dirty?”
“Piper and I are flirting,” Akim says without hesitation. “I think our relationship is headed somewhere serious.”
Timofey drops the box on the end of the table, rattling my water glass. He arches a brow at Akim.
“She wants me tocookfor her.” Akim says it like it’s the nastiest sex talk that has ever passed someone’s lips.
Timofey shakes his head. “As long as she can still fit into these dresses when you’re done, cook away. It’ll keep you from annoying me.”
“Oh, I’ll always make time for that.”
“Make time for watching Benjamin,” Timofey grumbles. “Piper is going to be busy.”
He may be my boss, but I don’t appreciate the insinuation that he controls my time. I mean, he does, but I still don’t appreciate it.
“Actually, I’m not busy right now,” I tell Akim. “I’d love to watch Benjamin for—”
Timofey interrupts. “You’re busy. I need you.”
Before I can respond, Akim leans in. “Youneedher? For what, precisely?”
It’s not hard to miss the insinuation. Which was entirely Akim’s point.
“I need her to earn her paycheck by following my orders.” Timofey gives Akim a pointed glare. “It’s the same expectation I have of everyone on my payroll.”
