Chapter 31
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
WREN
“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 me killer.
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 for stealing, 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 I killed, 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 that cart 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 there soon. 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 they told 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.
Love always,
Your Dex
Xox
The FBI won’t help us? You think they could at least confirm that I’d been kidnapped and smuggled into this country.
It makes me more certain than ever that our plan to become hired, ethical mercenaries is the right one.
Those agents had dropped the guys off here and wiped their hands of them, determined to literally do nothing as we did their job for them.
Canada was sounding better and better.
“Everything good?” Dimitri asks. I know he doesn’t really care about the contents of my letters; he’s just bored.
This place has that effect on you. We barely leave our cells.
No yard time, no cafeteria. Just trays slipped under our door three times a day.
We were only allowed out of here one day per week when we were taken one at a time to the showers at the end of the hall.
Having to shower under the watch of a male guard is the worst part of my week. He doesn’t try anything, but he leers at me in a way that has my skin crawling.
“Yeah, fine,” I mumble in response as I read the other letters. Even though they pretty much said the same things each day. Obviously unable to tell me their exact plans, I still craved their words. Seeing their handwriting soothed me.
And thinking that they could be right outside this building right now helps settle me and lets me breathe easier, knowing I’m not completely alone.
I read and reread their letters before going back through the older ones, memorizing their words, since there’s not much else to do. I start to drift off to sleep when Dimitri whispers, “Hey! Killer! Heads up!”
I quickly sit up and shove the letters back under my mattress as the sound of footsteps reaches my ears. I sit on my cot, my back against the wall, and wrap my arms around my knees.
There are only two guards who would make Dimitri call out in warning. Mikhail, the one who leers at me in the shower, and Aleks, who hasn’t had the task of shower duty yet but still seems to make my skin crawl every time he’s near.
I found it was best to play demure when they were around. Showing my confident side had only earned me bruises from being roughly shoved into the wall or manhandled a little too roughly.
Dimitri stays at the front of his cell, his hands hanging through the bars as he watches them approach. They must just be doing their rounds since they don’t have a food cart with them. I keep my eyes down, but it doesn’t stop them from coming to a halt right outside my cell.
My heart starts to beat a little faster when I realize they’re standing there staring at me.
“Aren’t you two tired of picking on a little girl?” Dimitri asks them in Russian. There’s a loud bang, the sound of their baton hitting the bars, before Dimitri starts cussing up a storm at them.
I take a chance and peek up, only to find Mikhail staring at me with that slimy look on his face.
I know what he’s doing. He’s waiting for me to give him an excuse to come in here and get handsy. But I’m not stupid; if I keep my mouth shut, he has no reason to enter.
“You’re looking a little bored there, little doll,” he says in Russian. The fact that he uses the exact same pet name as Ivan sends a chill down my spine. I’d love to tell him what I really think of him, and that I can't wait to stab him in the neck, but I stay quiet.
“What? Cat got your tongue?”
“She’s no fun anymore,” Aleks says, giving us his attention now that he’s done with threatening Dimitri.
“Don’t worry,” Mikhail says with a smile. “Tonight she’s on the shower schedule, and you know there are no cameras in there.”
I can’t stop my reaction, my head shooting up to gawk at him. What does that mean?
“Filthy cowards,” Dimitri says before spitting at their feet. He jumps back before Aleks’s baton can connect with his hands, and gives them a glare that I wouldn’t want to be on the wrong end of.
“Come on,” Mikhail says, moving down the hall to do the rest of their rounds. The cells beside both of ours were empty, but I’ve heard prisoners at either end of the hall, so I know we’re not alone in this wing.
“We’ll be seeing you later,” Aleks says to me with a grin before moving out of sight.