Chapter 2
Hudson
Guilty.
A word that was synonymous to my profession and my position.
Some would call me a sick man for enjoying every time I heard the verdict read by either the court clerk or the foreperson of the jury. In the beginning, I’d held reverence for their hard work and diligence in coming to their conclusions.
After all these years I found it just a part of my day.
Not this time.
Maybe I was gloating a little that a monster had been taken off the streets and put behind bars for the rest of his life.
The Undertaker.
What a shame he hadn’t gotten the death penalty.
A man who’d allegedly killed at least two dozen people in cold blood. More if you considered the men he’d gunned down in street wars while protecting the Delgado Cartel. A career criminal with a lust for blood.
He was also the coldest fuck I’d ever seen walk into my courtroom.
The bastard had ice in his veins.
All throughout the trial, which had been a slam dunk with the evidence presented, he’d acted nonchalant, keeping a smirk on his face.
That hadn’t bothered anyone. The stark emptiness of his eyes had.
He’d intimidated the jury even if he hadn’t said a single word to them.
He hadn’t even taken the stand in his own defense. There’d been no need.
I laughed as I took off my robe, hanging it in the closet in my office. Thank God, I was done for the day. Even two weeks after the man had been escorted from my courtroom for the last time, I’d thought about him more than once a day.
Perhaps his last words were the reason.
“You will be hunted.”
That was it. While he’d whispered a few words to his attorney throughout the process, not a word had been said to anyone else but those four.
He’d directed them toward me, but I had a feeling he’d tossed out a widespread threat. The police had suspected a heavy band of violence after the verdict to come from the Delgado Cartel. There’d been almost none.
Maybe the asshole had been considered expendable to them. While Luis Delgado, the brutal leader of the savage group demanded loyalty, forcing those joining the cartel to prove their undying adoration, he certainly wasn’t inclined to return the gesture.
He and I had tangled more than once.
Time to get the fuck out of the courthouse and enjoy a night with music, whiskey, and a good book.
My mind drifted briefly to another case from years before and I all but froze.
“We, the jury have found the defendant not guilty of the crimes as presented.”
Not guilty.
I could still hear the verdict being read and envision the shock tearing through the courtroom.
Even now, my hands were clammy as the memory hit me hard, brutally enough that for a few seconds I was lost in the haze of rage and disbelief.
It had been months, maybe a full year since I’d allowed the nightmarish memory to crowd my brain.
Closing my eyes, I waited until the horrible images were vanquished, including the laughter booming in the courtroom coming from the defendant just seconds after the verdict had been read.
Then I’d seen the look of horror on her face, a woman who’d trusted me to avenge her family’s deaths. Her eyes had told me what her lips had yet to say.
I’d failed her.
I’d left the courthouse that day in a fog, drowning my sorrows in a full bottle of whiskey, barely coming up for air two days later. The incident was one I’d never forget and the one that had altered my personality.
Or perhaps my way of handling cases.
At least today, I felt some sense of vindication. I’d take it.
Until the nightmares returned.
Just before I headed out, my phone rang. My private cellphone and I could count on fewer than ten fingers who had the number.
Seeing an unknown number I instantly bristled. The line was blocked as was every other aspect of my private life including my address, information about my cars, and my family. They’d all been scrubbed from the system. After all, the world was a dangerous place.
“Yes?” I answered. There also shouldn’t be any way for spammers or politicians to get this number either.
“Judge Armstrong?”
The lilting voice nagged at me, the recognition instantaneous as was my arousal. Jesus Christ, my reaction to her was always the same.
And always taboo.
“Ms. Sciascia. Is something wrong?”
Her laugh was something I’d heard once and the sound had stuck with me. Even now, my balls tightened. “I think you’ve earned the right to call me Valentina. I’m fine. I just…”
I moved to the window, fisting my hand around my phone. “What? You can talk to me. You know that.”
“Yes, I know. You were so kind to me. I wanted to say thank you.”
“There’s no need for thanks. What you did was courageous.”
“I simply did what anyone else in my position would do.”
She had no idea how wrong she was. After what she’d witnessed and learning his identity, most witnesses would have refused to talk. Not this woman, this beautiful and sensual woman who…
Hell, I had to stop thinking that way. Nothing could happen between us.
“Thank you for saying that. I’m just happy I could help.”
An awkward silence settled between us. “Is there something you need?”
“I need to stop stalling. I wanted to thank you by seeing if you’d like to have a cup of coffee or maybe a drink with me. I’ll understand if you don’t. I realize the invitation is a bit unorthodox, but I couldn’t have gone through with testifying if it hadn’t been for your encouragement.”
Was this stunning girl asking me out on a date?
Shit. Now I was overthinking things. She was being kind, something I wasn’t used to these days.
My conscience immediately kicked in. Granted, having a drink with her technically wasn’t an issue or inappropriate.
However, it was one of the morality issues I’d told myself was necessary the moment I’d taken an oath to uphold the law.
Then why was I considering breaking my own personal promise for this woman?
The answer was easy. Because I’d felt something electrifying.
There were several reasons why I would likely question my actions later. Right now, I just didn’t care.
“I’d love to.”
Twenty-four hours had passed since Valentina’s invitation.
I’d upped the game, suggesting dinner, even selecting the restaurant.
It was a favorite of mine located in South Beach.
Across the street from the beach, the location was vibrant with South Florida’s culture and energy, neon lights and music heard on street corners capturing the spectacular environment for miles.
In my younger days, I’d frequented the area at least once a week. Now I couldn’t remember the last time I’d bothered to step foot inside the quaint Latino restaurant.
It looked the same as I remembered and the owner greeted me as he had since soon after I’d started frequenting the establishment.
“So good to see you, Judge Armstrong.” Marco clapped both his hands around mine. “I have the perfect table for you tonight. I understand you have a young woman joining you.”
“What gets by you, Marco?”
He laughed as he guided me through the restaurant toward the stairs leading to the deck, a perfect location to enjoy such a beautiful, warm night.
And the company of a gorgeous woman.
“It has been a long time since you had dinner with a companion, my friend. It’s about time.”
“Now you’re playing matchmaker? She’s just a friend.”
He winked and motioned to the bottle of wine already waiting at the table. “So you say. How will I recognize her?”
Because she lights up any room she enters. Because she’s innocence personified in a voluptuous body built for sin.
“Ms. Sciascia has long curly dark hair and the most hypnotic blue eyes you’ve ever seen. She’ll also be wearing red.” My choice. Just like the restaurant.
I’d been more demanding of her than I’d realized until after the call had ended.
How interesting she surrendered so easily to my choices.
“She sounds lovely, Judge. I’ll ensure she’s shown your table personally.”
“Thank you, Marco.” Before I was settled into my seat, a waiter brought a drink I knew would be my favorite whiskey.
It felt good to be out and about, my schedule hectic for the last few months.
I sat back in the chair, casually studying the scene over the edge of the balcony.
The sights and sounds of South Beach were always the same.
Electric.
Only tonight the vibrations felt different, as if there was an underlying and unforeseen danger lurking in the shadows. A few seconds later, I checked my watch. She was late. By two minutes. Laughing, I tried to tone down my thoughts. Maybe I was just eager.
I swirled my drink, reminding myself this was not my normal behavior. Just as I brought the glass to my lips, a deep pulse vibrated through my body, a crackle of current that I’d had happen only once before.
As soon as I turned my head, my chest tightened. The sight of Valentina in a body-hugging red dress took my breath away. Another rarity. She appeared more confident than she had only weeks before. Her innocence and fragility had brought out the staunch protector in me.
Marco was casually saying something to her. Her response was a laugh that carried all the way to where I was seated. Every muscle tensed from the sound. There wasn’t a man on the balcony who wasn’t staring at her, undressing her. Hungering for her.
Not only did my fingers tighten around the glass to the point I was fearful I’d crack it, but the instant jealousy also shocked the hell out of me. She certainly didn’t belong to me.
When she finally noticed where I was seated, she stopped briefly, blinking several times.
The same nervousness I’d witnessed before was exposed simply by the way she fought with her long strands of hair fluttering in her face from the light breeze.
The way she pursed her lips was likely another sign of her slight discomfort and unwavering innocence, but the act defied all sense of decency inside my body.