Ravil woke up the next morning. The first thing he noticed was the bandage on his left wrist. His mind fluttered back to the night before, and he hauled himself off the couch.
Better change this bandage. And not tell Artem that I broke my promise.
He trudged back to the bathroom, where he found a razor on the floor, along with a short trail of scarlet droplets, bright against the white tile floor.
He grabbed a washcloth and held it under the faucet, soaking it in cold water, then knelt and wiped up the blood. He left the cloth and razor on the sink counter, not feeling motivated enough to do much else.
He took the bandage off his wrist and washed out the cut, laughing hollowly as the water stung his broken skin. He let the wound dry, then put another bandage over it.
He went to his bedroom and threw himself onto his bed, rolling over onto his back and staring up at the ceiling, zoning out.
He didn't move until he heard his phone buzzing on his nightstand. He rolled to the other side of the bed and grabbed the phone, opening Skype (he knew no one but Artem would be texting him).
And of course, it was Artem.
"Hi," Ravil typed.
"How are you?" Artem answered.
"Not sure." Ravil replied. "My mom is dead, my dad probably hates me and is in prison somewhere, and my whole life is a lie. What about you?"
"I've got something to tell you, Ravil."
"What?"
"I'm coming to America."
YOU ARE READING
Otkroveniye Complex // Book 1 of the Takaryev Series
Mystery / ThrillerRavil Galkin doesn't have much of a past, but as far as he's concerned, he's a completely normal person. Sure, he's a college drop out and basically a shut-in, but that's alright with him. But there's a whole different depth to the situation. An oc...
