by Raven Scott
“I did not try to kill Ophelia.”
A sharp laugh of disbelief burst from my chest to echo around my bedroom.
Anatoly growled into the phone. “I didn’t! I’m not even in Russia! I haven’t been in Russia since the day Aleksander was killed.”
“Then why does everyone say it was you, when you’re not here?”
“Because they’re trying to get rid of me, you idiot!” My little brother shouted in my ear.
I pulled the phone back as the background noise became incredibly loud.
Anatoly panted with his frustration. “Igra— you know I’m dumb as shit, but even to me, it’s obvious I’m the fall guy, here. So, whatever anyone’s telling you, don’t believe them. You don’t have any reason to believe me, either, but I’m about to get on a plane to Canada, and you’ll never see me again.”
I sat back on my arm to clench and release my jaw thoughtfully.
“Listen, okay— I’m not coming back to Russia.
“Okay. I believe you.” Shock rippled down my neck, and I smirked a little as Anatoly went silent. “I know you’re the first person everyone would think of, because you were the first person I suspected, Anatoly. If you’re on your way to Canada, that’s fine with me. I’d rather never see you again, myself.”
“Good…Good. Whoever attacked Ophelia is her own enemy.” With those parting words, my little brother hung up.
I flopped onto my back to heave a sigh. Anatoly killed Envre, probably, but Ophelia was a whole different monster to attack. If he was running to Canada, he must be serious about being targeted. “Well, whoever’s after Ophelia is after her, but we’ll see about us. We’re not out of trouble, yet, Yelene, but I’m hoping this is truly over.”
Crawling over to me, Yelene held her head above mine to stare down at me with a cautious smile.
Reaching to cup her cheek, I drew her down, and she pressed her forehead against mine. “Whatever trouble he’s in, it has nothing to do with us.”
“I hope so.” Shuffling to straddle my waist, Yelene braced her palms on my chest as my own settled on her thighs. Her eyes sparkled with hope and she dropped onto her elbows to cup my cheeks. Soft breaths rolled down under my t-shirt and the intimacy of the moment stretched on until she brushed her lips against mine. Her kiss was tentative and soft.
I hugged her to me as a groan clogged my throat. “I hope so, too, malen’kaya ptitsa. We’ll be okay. Aleksander is gone. Ophelia is gone. It’s just you and me, now.” She smiled wider, and I shuffled onto my bed fully to hold her to my chest.
If Anatoly wasn’t the one that tried to kill Ophelia, there’s nothing to worry about.
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