Page 39 of The Woman on the Jury

I got up anyway, walking toward the window that looked down on the street, seeing my guard emerge, and share a few words with Venezio, then head off down the street, disappearing into the shadows.

Venezio was in his usual uniform of jeans, Timbs, and a leather jacket. But he’d added a black beanie tonight, likely having heard that it was going to dip below freezing.

I climbed into bed, staring out the window, but lost in my mind, in thoughts of someone I had no business thinking about.

Eventually, sleep won out.

But I wasn’t dreamless.

Oh, no.

I was twisted and tangled in bedsheets, feverish from my fantasies as I rolled around in bed with Cosimo Costa, hearing that deep, smooth voice of his saying all sorts of wicked things in my ear.

It was a crash that shocked me awake, feeling sweaty and disoriented, unsure where the sound came from, if maybe a neighbor had fallen, thrown something, punched a wall, or was just having really good, wall-banging sex like I’d been dreaming about.

It wasn’t until I heard the footsteps moving across my room that I realized what it was.

My door.

My door being broken open.

A scream caught in my throat, wanting to alert Venezio to the threat.

But before a sound could escape me, a hand was slapping down over my mouth, and a body was coming over mine in the bed.

Panic shot through my body, little electric shocks that moved through each limb until I felt like I was buzzing with it, like I was shaking.

No, wait.

I was shaking.

The adrenaline was coursing through my veins as my heart hammered in my chest, my breath felt caught in my chest as my hands rose, nails scraping at the hand pressing down on my face.

The bed whined as the man shifted over me.

My room was dark, but I could make out the whites of his eyes as his knees pinned my thighs to the bed.

The pressure bruised into my skin as his other hand pressed into my throat.

“You stupid bitch. You thought you’d get away with this?” he snarled.

How was this happening?

Where was Venezio?

Was he hurt?

If not, how had this guy gotten past him?

If he was hurt, was he so hurt that he couldn’t call for help?

Was I completely on my own?

I wasn’t alone.

I had neighbors.

And the building was relatively quiet right now, save for the droning of TVs left on to drown out the sounds of the city.

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