Page 48 of The Fixer

“I don’t know yet, but I have time,” Sasha answered.” I’m not going to miss teaching all that much, I don’t think.”

Humming softly in acknowledgment, I rolled my lips between my teeth and cracked my eyes open.

He went on, “I do want to go to the Summer Festival in Vladivostok next year. Maybe, we should go to all the cool festivals this year? And the Romanian Flower Festival in the Spring. Oktoberfest… Paris’ Pastry Festival in January would be agreatway to start…”

“I’d love that.” I nodded. “I’d love to go to the West and eat all the food. And be with you in all those beautiful places.” But my smile and warm feelings didn’t last; this all hinged on my succeeding in the first place. “I don’t want to leave Russia, but… voluntary vacations? Those would be nice. Being forced to America, of all places, for something I don’t know anything about—I’m uncertain.”

“But you’re not afraid, Ophelia. You said it yourself. You’re going to fix Aleksander’s pants off. You’re going to do what others failed at and you’re going to do itspectacularly.”

IwishedI had as much confidence in myself as Sascha’s voice in that moment, but our conversation cut short by his cell phone ringing insistently. Unfurling his arm from around me, his face twisted in irritation as he fished out the device from his pocket. “Hey, Malda. We’re on the train right now.”

Turning my attention to my wrist, I flexed my fingers around the throbbing, fiery ache that stretched up my arm and through my palm. I’d broken bones before, but this hurt more intensely, for some reason. Did I really look like I was just going to toss myself down the stairs? That was stupid. It didn’t work for Rudolf Hess and he had a lot better reason to do it.

“Oh- yeah? That’s great! Why, though?” Softly nudging me, Sascha stole my attention.

I glanced up.

He continued, “It’s nice that you’re coming to America with us, but what happened to going back to babysitting Lyov?”

My brows rose before drawing sharply, and I pursed my lips thinly. Malda…I liked her. I thought that if we weren’t so skeptical of each other, we could be good friends. More, I was very touched by her actions today.I have to remember to thank her.

“He disappeared? How can he just disappear?”

Instantly, my brain churned out a few reasons why Lyov Makovich had run away and hid. I hadn’t been very kind to him; maybe that had been his breaking point. Having a complete stranger call him out must’ve been much more impactful than people he knew doing so. At some point, he must’ve convinced himself that everyone was out to make him miserable because he killed his mother. Which… really didn’t count. There was no perpetrator in a situation like that— only victims. I felt bad for Lyov and how he must’ve felt all his life, bearing that burden. To be fair, though, there’s times for self-degradation and times for sucking it up and doing his job.

“Oh… I get it. Okay well, we’ll be in Moscow in about an hour.” They said their goodbyes and hung up, Sascha took my injured hand to slouch in his seat a bit. “When we get there, you need to get patched up.”

“I can do it at home…” All I had to do was wrap it; going to a hospital would be a waste of time.

Frowning at me as he prodded my wrist gingerly, Sascha didn’t protest.

“I like Malda, I think we’d be good friends.”

“I think she likes you, too, Oppie. But back to the conversation at hand… You may not have particular experience with Aleksander or Santino, but you’ve been a diplomat for Makovich to Ukraine, Romania and Belarus… You can draw on that. You’re not flying blind into this. It just seems overwhelming, but you’re more prepared than you’d think for this.”

Wincing with a hiss when Sascha hit the tender part of my wrist, I gingerly pulled from his grasp.

His eyes met mine, narrowed but brimming withconfidence.

“… At least it wasn’t my right hand that I landed on.” Leaning over to kiss him, I palmed Sascha’s crotch heavily, and a smile tilted my lips when he tensed. “I love you, Sascha. You make me a better person.”

“I love you, too, Ophelia.”

Butterflies fluttered in my abdomen as I drew back, and Sascha reached to wrap his arm around me once again. He didn’t have to do this— stick by me when everything was going so catastrophically wrong. Hislifecould be in danger, but his faith in me was so absolute that he didn’t even care. To him, I could fix anything…

That was exactly what I was going to do. So many times, I’d thought to myself—next time.Next time, I would do it right. Next time, I wouldn’t crack under the pressure. Next time, I’d get the better of Aleksander Makovich.

But there was nonext time… because if I failed, I wouldn’t get another chance.

33

Ophelia

“I’m gonna miss this sofa.” Flopping onto the couch, Sascha spread out his arms as a huge sigh burst from his mouth. “We should get another one…one that’s smaller and not so obnoxious.”

“I’d have to find the order somewhere. It’s not an old purchase, so…” Pulling his shirt over my head, I straddled Sascha’s waist as I trailed off. Rolling my lips between my teeth, my tongue tingled with the urge to just blurt out that I was keeping this sofa. I hadn’t told him as I wanted it to be a surprise.

Palming my waist, Sascha arched his body slightly before his eyes found mine, and everything around him started to blur and fade.