Deimos answered on the last ring. Kalmin jolted in his seat, heart thumping wildly.
What he saw on screen was the shell of a man he once knew.
“I didn’t know you still smoked,” Kalmin said instantly.
Deimos’ throaty laugh rumbled out of the speakers. A bruised, bandaged hand ran through a mess of black curls, passing a black eye and purple nose. Split, red lips trapped a cigarette between them, smoke curling in front of dark, somber eyes. With the curtains closed behind him, the room was dark and turned Deimos’ skin sickeningly pale. The prominent eye bags and vibrant bruises didn’t help his case either. He looked…sad.
“Helps dull the pain,” he mumbled, taking another long drag and blowing it slowly. It was kind of sexy.
“How are you holding up?”
Deimos rolled his eyes and sighe
