Chapter 1
Two months later…
Valentina
“Ms. Smith. Will you please tell the court in your words what happened the night of August thirteenth?”
Ms. Smith.
Not my name.
My name was Valentina Sciascia, yet to the rest of the world, I was Jane Smith. Anonymous. A girl from nowhere going nowhere. It was almost laughable that I’d ceased to exist. For my protection. That’s what I continued to hear.
Numb.
I was still numb inside, barely capable of functioning daily.
In the two months since witnessing the horrific crime, I’d been plagued with nightmares and high anxiety, barely managing to get through a day without breaking down into either tears or a panic attack.
I’d continued to see the monster’s eyes as he’d stared at me.
There’d been recognition just before he’d faded into the darkness.
Maybe not from knowing who’d seen the horrific deed, but at least that someone had been watching.
He’d gathered a whiff of my perfume. I’d constantly looked over my shoulder even though the detectives involved with the case had assured me I’d be safe.
Was it possible to feel safe any longer?
The courtroom was completely silent, the members of the grand jury hidden behind the privacy panel, yet I could feel their eyes studying the silhouette behind the screen. Scrutinizing me. Challenging me.
Beads of perspiration tickled my nose and upper lip. I didn’t have the strength to wipe them away.
“Ms. Smith?” The deep voice was soothing.
Comforting. I tipped my head, blinking profusely as I looked at the judge.
He was unlike any of the judges I’d seen on television.
Tall and muscular, his thick whiskey-colored hair the kind you wanted to run your fingers through.
I’d seen him standing in a doorway more than once and he filled the space.
His rugged features, including a chiseled jaw, reminded me of all those alpha heroes in romance novels.
Yet his eyes were his best feature. So green I envisioned pools of salt water in the Caribbean or a jungle where a waterfall sprayed cooling water across craggy rocks.
Where his held life and joy, albeit a hint of something haunting him, the monster’s eyes had been cold and devoid of anything other than pure evil.
The dichotomy had struck me on the first day I’d met Judge Armstong. Even his name reflected strength and decency.
Maybe that’s why so far, I’d managed to keep my shit together. But today, I felt as if I was unraveling.
“Are you alright?” he continued.
I had to think about his question. Finally, I nodded. “I’m fine.”
“Then let’s proceed.” His smile was encouraging. No one knew who I was. My name would be redacted from all courtroom proceedings. The records were and would continue to be sealed long after I gave my testimony.
If I remained strong, I could help put a horrible criminal behind bars for life.
Jacob ‘The Undertaker’ Jones. All I knew was that he was a reported hitman for the Delgado Cartel.
I remembered the name of who he worked for since he’d been explicit in telling the victim the reason he was about to be murdered.
I’d also been forced to replay the horror several times, the local news splashing the monstrous murder across the screen as if glorifying the evil event.
There’d been no way to avoid the barrage of news, especially when he’d been arrested. It was as if they’d caught a celebrity with his pants down, not a monster who’d cut a human being into bits and pieces.
“On the night in question,” Ms. Guthrie, the state’s attorney continued, “what were you doing?”
“I’d just left work, heading to my car.” There. I could do this. I was a strong woman and could beat the demons crawling in my mind.
“What do you do for a living to have you out so late?”
I’d been instructed how to answer. “I work at local restaurant.” I’d been instructed not to say the name of the diner or mention my other job. The coaching lessons had left me even more anxious. Would I say the right thing?
“And how did you find yourself in the alley in question?”
“Taking a short cut to get to my vehicle.”
Ms. Guthrie allowed me a few seconds before pressing me. “Go on.”
As I always did when I was nervous, I fidgeted with my hands, even closing my eyes to try to remember every detail. Even if in doing so I would be haunted later. This was important. This was my civic duty. The monster had to pay for his sins.
“When I was in the alley, I heard a noise then a voice. Someone pleading not to be hurt.”
After taking another deep breath, I placed myself at the scene, pretending I was relaying a movie. Then something happened and a sob broke free from my throat. Normally, I could stop the horrible emotions after a few seconds. Not this time.
Now I was crying and sobbing loudly, incapable of putting a coherent sentence together.
“We’ll take a thirty-minute recess. Please clear the courtroom,” Judge Armstrong suddenly said, obviously referring to my panic attack. His tone was controlling, dark in the intense command while still holding a level of compassion. I could hear him as loudly as I could my own heartbeat.
I couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t talk.
Before I knew what was happening, a hand was placed on my arm, the touch gentle yet firm.
“Ms. Smith. Why don’t you come with me to my chambers. It’s much more comfortable inside.”
There was an electric hum surrounding us and suddenly, I felt as if I was in a vacuum. Where I couldn’t see before, when I lifted my head, gazing into his eyes, my mind was suddenly clear and I felt much calmer. “Okay.”
He guided me away from the panel. There was no one else in the oversized room. He took me behind the bench to a door. Once inside, he ensured the short hallway was clear before walking with me to his office.
His hand never left the small of my back.
The gesture was a little thing, but I felt much better.
As soon as we were inside, I was able to breathe.
I stood where I was until the ugliness faded and I was able to focus.
His tastes were just as I’d expected. Leather furniture.
A huge, colorful rug. Vibrant art on the walls.
And a massive mahogany desk that reeked of power.
With me safely nestled on one of the overstuffed chairs, he grabbed an ice-cold bottle of water for me, even twisting off the top. “Here you go. I want you to know that you’re safe here. It’s just you and me. No one else.”
I almost laughed. Maybe I did since he looked at me strangely as he sat down. For at least thirty seconds, our eyes locked. I felt as if we were connected somehow, two strangers coming together to fight evil.
The moment was entirely too electric, which was completely out of place.
Even so, every inch of me tingled from his heated gaze.
For a few glorious seconds, the dark robe he wore commanding respect faded away.
The man sitting in front of me was rugged, dangerous in the most alluring way possible.
Maybe I was a very bad girl to allow my x-ray vision to imagine what he’d look like in jeans and a funky shirt.
Or perhaps nothing at all.
“What do you like to do for fun?” There was a wry smile crossing his face and for just a few seconds, a twinkle in his mesmerizing eyes.
The question came so far out of left field that I laughed. How strange but as soon as I did, the wave of nausea and terror faded away. “I don’t have much time to do anything fun. I work two jobs and have several responsibilities.”
“Come on. There must be something that lights up your days. Or nights.” His smile lit up his face and I noticed for the first time he had a hint of gray at his temples. That made him look almost regal, certainly more commanding in his presence.
My gaze dropped to his hands. Sexy hands. Long fingers and instead of manicured nails, they were just a little ragged around the edges, which didn’t compute with how he looked in his dark judge’s robe.
I’d caught him in his suit, form fitting in a way that had made my mouth water. How inappropriate, but it had allowed me to feel as if I was still alive instead of caught in a dead zone.
“Binge watching Netflix and enjoying rocky road ice cream. Maybe a glass of wine with it.” When he didn’t say anything at first, I could feel the heat slipping across my face. I’d never told anyone that before.
I was surprised when his grin widened as if he’d discovered a favorite forbidden treat. “That sounds like a great evening. I’d love to join you.”
Asking him to share in my sinful indulgence was right on the tip of my tongue. That was foolish and certainly against the rules, but it was the first time in so long that I felt desire as well as if he had huge arms wrapped around me, protecting me from monsters.
“It’s simple and cheap.” I nervously brushed my hand through my hair.
When he leaned forward in his chair, so did I. Suddenly, we were so close I managed to detect a hint of citrus in his woodsy aftershave. My body tingled, his scent almost intoxicating.
A few seconds passed, maybe longer. It was good to have a few minutes to collect myself.
“You’re very brave, Valentina.”
It was the first time he’d used my name. “I don’t know about brave.”
“Most people couldn’t relive the horror you witnessed. You’re helping to put a career criminal behind bars.”
“He’s done this before.” I knew the answer. Maybe I needed reassurance that I was doing the right thing.
Judge Armstrong nodded. “Eight times that I know of. Never caught. Never convicted. I know this is very difficult on you. If you don’t think you can go through with testifying, no one will blame you.”
“I would. Blame myself, I mean. What he did was… evil.”
He lifted his head and for another precious few seconds, I allowed myself to be consumed by his handsome features. “Does that mean you feel you can continue?”
“I can. I will. I won’t allow him to do that to anyone else.”
Every smile, every gesture of his hand or his slight head nod created another wave of tingles.
When he pulled a small card and pen from his pocket, I wasn’t certain what to think.
“I shouldn’t be doing this, but I have a feeling you’re going to spiral a little bit after your testimony.
That’s perfectly normal after what you’ve been through.
If you need someone to just talk to, I’ll be happy to listen.
” He scribbled something on the back of the card, handing it to me seconds later.
“That’s my personal cellphone number. I would appreciate if you wouldn’t give it out to anyone. ”
I had no idea what to say. “That’s very sweet of you and of course I won’t.”
He chuckled. “I assure you that no one has called me sweet ever before. Why don’t we get this over with so you can return to your life?”
“I’d like that.”
His patience continued to make me feel protected, only calling the jury back in when I was safely behind the screen.
A few seconds later, I was asked about the details of the attack once again.
So I continued.
“Then he raised the machete, bringing it down multiple times. The victim’s head rolled toward me.
After that, there was a quiet that was so oppressive, I felt as if I’d been sucked into a vacuum.
The blade glistened in the streetlight. The killer bent down and pulled one of the man’s arms into his hand, shoving it under his arm.
That’s what he turned toward me and smiled. And said I smelled delicious.”
The remainder of the morning was a blur, but once I was outside in the fresh air and sunlight, I felt much stronger.
For some reason I couldn’t get my mind off the judge. Without his encouragement and support, I would never have gone through with reliving the horror. Maybe I should consider Judge Armstrong my knight in shining armor.
Now, nestled in front of my television with a small carton of rocky road ice cream in front of me, a new series with five seasons ready for me to consume, I heard the blip indicating an incoming text.
Suddenly, I was just as nervous as I’d been earlier in the morning. What if the grand jury hadn’t believed my testimony? What if the horrible monster was allowed to walk free? By the time I found the courage to grab my phone, I was close to another panic attack.
It was a text from the attorney.
Relief flooded through me.
The grand jury had believed me. Jacob ‘The Undertaker’ Jones would face trial.
Maybe, just maybe my tiny bit of courage would lead to justice being served.