Its so easy to make people uncomfortable. That guy I told you
about, my cell mate? All I had to do was suggest that he look
elsewhere, and no more problems. And this guy was a murderer.
Don't get me wrong, I have no idea what he was in for. Heard him
say he didn't do it - big surprise there - but I know he has killed. He
has the look. That hardness in his eyes that signals it like a flare,
especially to me. It was the look I first saw in my eyes after the Cuban
trip.
The last two days have been like something out of our Seal
Training, locked in a cage, people constantly monitoring you
(although pretending they aren't) looking for any reaction. Trying
for a reaction, I reckon, but they got none from me. I spent two days
casually staring out of my cell, at a fascinatingly grey concrete wall
opposite. You would have been proud.
And today, freedom. Money talks, as they say, and luckily, my
Mother has an old friend to speak for me. Only thing is, the court
thinks I'm a flight risk, and this money can stop me wandering off.
So I get to enjoy a holiday on this guys island - that's right, he owns
a f*cking island - until the trial. And get any image of the perfect
tropical island with half naked girls sunbathing out of your head.
Knowing this guy, it'll be more like Alcatraz.
