Page 92 of My Crazy Killers
“Twenty-four, twenty-five,” I groan out before collapsing to my stomach. The guys made push-ups look so easy, but at least I am getting better. I’d only been able to do two when I first arrived.
“Careful there, killer,” Dimitri chuckles in Russian from the cell across from mine. “You don’t want to hurt yourself.”
“I’m fine,” I reply, as I push to my feet and move to stand at the front of my cell, facing him. Dimitri is as tall as Jagger and just as muscular, his brown hair edged with the first signs of gray, and, apparently, a thief. He had arrived here before me and, as soon as he heard what I was arrested for, he started calling mekiller.
I can’t believe after everything that’s happened, I’ve ended up in prison. I mean, technically, it’s a pre-trial detention centre. But I was stuck in a cell with only a cot, a toilet, and a sink, all fully visible to Dimitri or any guard who passed by. It may as well be prison.
It worried me that Dimitri had only been arrested forstealing, yet was still awaiting his own trial. I’d already been here for three weeks; how much longer would I have to wait?
The worst part is that they won’t let me see my guys. Apparently, that is a luxury allowed only in prison after I’m convicted. Right now, I have very few rights. I was told only immediate family could visit, even though I insisted on them letting me see my fiancé. They said he could only come if we were married, so I tried to backtrack and say we were, but they didn’t buy it.
It felt like some of my rights were being stripped away; it was hardly fair. I couldn’t talk to them or a lawyer or anything. I didn’t understand anything about the Russian criminal justice system, so I had no argument to stand on.
Part of the problem was that they had the audacity to tell me I was in this country illegally. I explained I had been kidnapped by the very man Ikilled, but they said it didn’t matter. They had many witnesses, and it didn’t look like self-defense. Ivan was gunless, which was true, when I shot him.
I didn’t understand why they weren’t happy with the fact that I took out the biggest criminal in their country. Shouldn’t they give me a medal or something? But I guess we knew Ivan had people on the inside; they were probably the ones pulling all the cards here, keeping me locked up and silenced.
A squeaking sound down the hall has my ears perking up, my head whipping to the right, hoping to catch sight of the cart.
Dimitri chuckles. “I can’t believe they’re still writing to you.”
I smile as the mail cart comes into view. Now I know how the guys felt when they were in prison. Just the sight of thatcart has me bouncing on my feet, eager to see if I get another letter.
“Yeah,” I reply with a pleased sigh. “They’re the best.”
The first letter arrived on my eighth day here, and continued every day after. I wasn’t allowed to send out any mail myself, another right they refused to give me, but it didn’t mean they stopped writing. I hoped they knew how much their letters meant to me. They must, having been in this same situation themselves.
Of course, I never read any parts of my letters to Dimitri; they were only for me, but I had told him all about my unique situation with the five men who wrote me every day without fail.
I reach up to touch my necklace out of habit, but of course, it’s not there. The guards took it from me when I was processed. I’m just glad I had left my ring at the hotel, not wanting to lose it while we were on our mission.
The man pushing the cart comes right up to my cell and passes a thick envelope through. I eagerly take it. “Thank you!” I tell him before rushing back to settle on my cot.
I’m careful not to rip their letters as I tear into it, finding Elias’s letter on top.
To my Dearest Wren,
Have I mentioned lately how brave you are? Because you are. The bravest person I know. We’re still working hard to get you out of there. They still aren’t budging on even letting us in to see you, and I’ve tried everything.
But don’t worry, we’ll have you out of theresoon. I have a plan. I promise it will go better than the last one. Just remember, if there is one thing I’m good at, it’s getting you out of places you don’t belong. I got you away from Robert, and I’ll get you out of there, too.
I know if you could write back, you’d be asking about everyone. Everyone is doing okay, just worried about you. Hang in there, sweetheart, we’re going to be seeing you real soon.
Love,
Elias
The note is short and sweet, but I understand why they can’t exactly explain in a letter, that is reviewed by the staff here, anything illegal they might be doing to get me out. I still have a bit of faith in the legal system, though. What jury would convict sweet little me for killing the big bad mafia man? But this isn’t America, and nobody will answer any questions I have on how things work here.
I pull out the next letter, it’s from Dex.
To my Wren,
I hate every part of this. You’re not supposed to be in there. You’re supposed to be out here, free, with us. It’s not right, and we won’t stop until we fix it.
Elias reached out to the feds yesterday, and theytold him that without the list, they couldn’t help us. Can you believe that? We’ve done their job for them twice. And they won’t even lift a finger for us.
It doesn’t matter, though, we’ve done everything without them so far, and this would be no different. You just hang in there. Keep your energy up, eat, sleep, do push-ups, and be ready for us. It won’t be long now until I’m holding you again.
