“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 andpulled 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.
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.
