PIPER
I gather myself with a few deep breaths, then I follow Timofey back into the arena. That's what the kitchen is, after all: a battleground.
When I step into the hallway, I can hear Ashley's high-pitched, flirty laugh.
"Shit," I mutter, breaking into a jog.
Timofey and I walk in together. Ashley is standing at the stove next to Akim, both of their hands wrapped around the same pan handle.
"It's all in the wrist," Akim says, brushing his finger over Ashley's too-pale, too-skinny forearm. "More of a flick than a toss."
Ashley bites her lower lip like she's concentrating, but I know she's trying to make a sexy face. "Okay. Here I go. One, two—"
On three, she and Akim shake the skillet together and flip a pancake in the air. It lands clumsily on the side of the pan and batter sprays across the stove.
Ashley slouches into Akim's chest. "Damn it. I don't understand. I've been told I have very limber wrists."
"By whom?" Akim asks.
She looks back over her shoulder, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Ex-boyfriends."
My eyes practically bug out of my head. Timofey makes a soft snort in the back of his throat.
I stomp around him and grab the pan out of Ashley's hand. "You did not just say that in front of my Gram," I hissed.
Akim turns away, muttering, "She definitely did."
"Say what?" Gram asks.
I look over to see she is doing one of the crosswords she carries around in her purse.
"Nothing, Gram. Do you want a—" I look at what Akim and Ashley were making. "A pancake? Why are you making pancakes?"
"I make them and freeze them for quick breakfast," Akim explains, but I'm not really listening to him. As far as I'm concerned, he can disappear.
Gram nods. "Sure, I'll have one. But you make it, Ashley. I want to taste the love in it."
"I cook with plenty of love." Akim sounds almost offended.
Gram fixes him with a knowing smirk. "I'm worried you've wasted most of your love on Miss Ashley here."
Turns out Gram isn't as much of a prude as I thought.
Akim actually blushes at that. I cannot believe this man works for Timofey. He's the goofiest killer's sidekick I could ever imagine.
"I have some other stuff to do anyway." steps around Ashley and nods in Timofey's direction. "I'd like to talk to you when you have a minute, actually, Tim."
I study Akim. What I wouldn't give to crack his head open and see what he's thinking.
Then he looks at me. Just for a second. A flash of acknowledgement before he averts his gaze.
And I don't need to crack his head open. I don't need to read his mind.
I know exactly what he's going to tell Timofey.
And I have to stop him.
"It's rude to leave your guests," I blurt. In the corner of my eye, Timofey arches a brow, but I plow on. "You said that it was rude to leave guests. I already took you away once."
I can tell he'd put me in my place if Ashley and Gram weren't here. As it is, it goes against his plan to get on their good side.
He smiles so easily and believably that I can't help but shiver. "You're right. We'll talk business later, Akim. Right now, pancakes."
Ashley claps her hands and slides closer to Akim. "You can help me work on my hand-eye coordination."
I still want to make sure the two of them never, ever become a thing, because Ashley's version of hand-eye coordination when it involves a cute man quickly becomes something more like penis-mouth coordination.
More than that, though, I want to make sure Akim can't tell Timofey what we talked about over lunch.
How fucking stupid am I? I told Timofey I would go along with his plan and obey him. Five minutes later, I'm confessing to his cook that I want to get him thrown in prison.
I turn to the stove and scrap the now-burnt bit of pancake Ashley tried to flip. I pour in some more batter and watch the bubbles form as pieces of a plan coming together in my mind.
"What's the upper-left keyboard key?" Gram asks the room. "It's a crossword clue, and I'm not good with computers."
"Delete," Akim answers quickly and incorrectly.
"Don't listen to Akim," Timofey chuckles. "There's a reason I hired him to be a chef, not a tech guru."
"It's because, like you, he also likes the taste of love in his cooking." Akim blows kisses in Timofey's direction, and my stomach drops.
They are good friends. I was talking to one of Timofey's very good friends about betraying him. There's no way Akim isn't going to give me up the second he gets the chance.
Timofey waves him off. "The answer is E-S-C."
Gram gasps in delight. "It fits! Thank you!"
I ignore the pang I feel at the realization that Gram let Timofey help her with her puzzle. She never lets me help. She says it's as good as looking up the answers in the back of the book.
Apparently, that's not important in the face of the looming threat that is Timofey Viktorov. Akim is going to tell him that I'm still planning to get Benjamin away from him and report him to the police. When he finds out, he'll retaliate. Maybe against me, but probably through a proxy like Ashley or Gram.
The only option is to get them out of here. Now.
No time for subtlety. I need to get us all out of here before Timofey finds out. We flee, go straight to the police, and hope for the best.
Sure, Timofey has Officer Rooney on his side, but they can't take on an entire precinct, can they?
I hope not.
If anyone can, it would be Timofey. But I have to believe he has some limits. I have to believe I can fight back.
"I hear Benjamin crying," Akim says suddenly. "I should go—"
Ashley grabs his arm. "Isn't that Piper's job? She should take care of it."
I toss her a look, but she's too distracted by the handsome cook to notice.
Akim shakes his head. "She's cooking, so apparently, we've switched jobs today. I'll take care of the wee one."