AllFreeNovel
Share Us
But even as I say it, the joking suggestion makes my shoulders knot up.
Luckily for him, Akim snorts. “No thanks. I’d prefer to keep my dick attached to my body. You like her. Just admit it.”
“I don’t like anyone.”
“Maybe you’ve forgotten what it feels like to have a crush. This is your first one in a while.” His expression falls and a serious edge creeps into his voice. “Look, man, with everything that went down with Emily—”
My voice comes out crackling with fire. “This has nothing to do with Emily.”
Mostly because I don’t let myself think about her anymore. I learned a long time ago that grief is a useless distraction.
“Listen, dude, I get it. Really. But maybe it’s time to—”
“It’s not time for anything,” I snarl, shutting Akim down. “I want no part of her. Piper Quinn is fucked-up. Sick and twisted.”
Akim’s eyes widen. “First, ‘sick and twisted’ sounds right up your alley. Second, how in the hell do you figure?”
“To spend your days ripping children away from their parents, you have to be fucked up somehow.”
My best friend’s expression softens. I want to punch it off of him. “Shit has changed since we were kids, man. They have new policies in place. Therapists, that kind of shit. It’s all about emotional wellness now, you know? I bet she’s nothing like the caseworker you—”
“Go make me some fucking food,” I order.
Akim is only my cook because he enjoys it and I figured if he was mooching off my payroll anyway, he might as well contribute a little bit. So for me to bark at him to go fix me a sandwich is condescending as hell. He knows that, but I don’t give a shit. I have no desire to sit here and hear about the many improvements made to the child welfare system in this country. I don’t need the lecture on how it works.
I fucking lived it.
Surprisingly, Akim stands up and nods. Maybe he’s learning to be agreeable after all.
Then, just as he reaches the doorway, he pauses and leans against the frame. “Would you like me to put on my heels and pearls before or after I make the sandwich?”
I roll my eyes. “Don’t explain what that means. I don’t want to hear—”
“You say you don’t need a woman, yet you treat me like a 1950s housewife.” He slaps on a cloying smile. “Do you want a corned beef or bologna sandwich today, Timofey dear?”
“You’re my chef. I shouldn’t need to remind you that making me a sandwich is your job.”
He shrugs one shoulder. “Whatever you say. But if I catch you trying to put lipstick on me while I’m sleeping, I’ll quit.”
I almost laugh at that. But Akim doesn’t need the encouragement. “No, you won’t. I pay you too well.”
He considers it for a moment and nods. “You’re right. Fine. Pick the shade and I’ll wear it.”
“Fuck off.”
“That says something, doesn’t it? About your girl. Piper.”
Her name does something strange to my chest. “She’s not my—”
“Right, right. She’s not your girl,” he says, sounding bored. “I’m just saying, I’m willing to degrade myself to work for you, but she isn’t? Either she’s got a secret trove of cash somewhere or the woman can’t be bought.”
I snort. “She doesn’t have to be too righteous to outdo you. You don’t exactly own property on the moral high ground. I saw you shove Monopoly money in a stripper’s underwear at Pavel’s bachelor party.”
“She was paid ahead of time for being there. It’s not like she survives on tips,” he mutters. “But the point remains. Things didn’t go to plan last night or today. So what’s your next move?”
“That’s where the sandwich comes in.”
He frowns. “Liar. You just want me to leave.”
