That Day, Karen Deen [early readers .txt] 📗

Pushing me into the seat, he drags the chair as close to his as humanly possible, still with his arm around me.

I can’t settle and sweat is running down my neck. My chest feels tight, breathing is getting hard.

Grabbing Kurt by the suit jacket, I pull his ear to my mouth. “I can’t… I can’t do this, I just can’t.”

I need to get out of here. I’m too exposed. They could shoot me in plain sight of everyone. Shit, they could shoot us both, and we have nowhere to hide.

“Jenna.” His voice is husky and direct.

That one word stops me in my tracks. Kurt has never called me that before, and I’m not sure what to think.

“That’s right, today you are the strong Jenna who hid to keep herself alive. The Jenna who agreed to stand up and make this guy pay for the Warringtons’ deaths. Don’t let that Jenna walk out of here today with regrets. Finish this, and then you can walk out of here ready to take on the world, as Jenna or Asha or whoever the fuck you want to be. But you will be the one thing you have been longing for and that is a free woman to choose the life you want to live.”

On that day I stood on the beach with the worst storm swirling around me, a man ran to me from nowhere and became my savior. I always knew I’d never regret that day, but I wasn’t sure until right now how grateful I am that man was Kurt.

There might not be rain, thunder, and lightning in today’s storm, but once again, his words are what have me taking that breath I need and showing me that I can weather anything this world throws at me.

“Okay, okay, I know. I can do this. I have to do this,” I whisper as I pry my fingers off his jacket’s lapels where I was hanging on with white knuckles for dear life.

“Fuck yes, you can.”

We exchange one last look between us that expresses everything we feel and that no one else will ever come between, as the jury is now being led into the room.

Facing the front of the court room, Jacinta turns to give me one last look to check I’m good to go. I give her a subtle nod to which she replies the same and returns to her papers and folders on her desk.

“All rise for the honorable Judge Degan.” The noise of everyone rising is deafening in a room where I feel every single thing is exaggerated. It’s all polished wood with not one piece of furnishing around to soften anything. The windows are high on the walls and letting the light in, but besides that, it’s just a four-walled room with timber walls, timber furniture, and a raised platform for the judge to sit along, with a chair that I will need to sit in eventually. Part of my stupid brain is already thinking of it like a torture chair, where I will feel like they are pushing needles into me as they ask me to recall every detail from that night.

“Bring the prisoner in please, bailiff.” The judge is looking down, reading his papers, as the bailiff leaves through a side door. All I can hear are whispers between the other people in the room behind me. No one in the jury moves and none of my security team even bat an eyelid.

It seems to be taking forever for them to come out. The longer it takes, the more nervous I feel. But I keep telling myself it will be okay. Until I can feel Kurt starting to fidget and whisper into his sleeve.

Something isn’t right, and I can tell he knows it too.

Heads are starting to turn on the jury and both the prosecution and defense teams.

Finally, the judge looks up and asks the question that’s been on everyone’s lips for several minutes.

“What is taking so long? Where is the prisoner?” The officer on the door that the bailiff left through just shrugs her shoulders a little. Then suddenly, the bailiff bursts through the door looking like he’s been through a marathon, sweat running down his forehead and the back of his shirt is wet with perspiration.

“Kurt.” I grab his hand, and I know my nails are almost drawing blood with how tightly I’m hanging on. My legs are bouncing, and I can feel bile in my throat as I’m getting to the point I’m about to vomit.

The look of shock on the judge’s face is not helping one bit.

“Counsellors, my office now, along with your witness, please.” Not even giving time for any questions, he stands and rushes back out the door he entered from. Jacinta stands and holds open the gate for me to walk through and follow with her behind the judge. Kurt’s by my side, but the court officer tries to stop him at the door until Jacinta speaks a few words quietly to him, and Kurt then just flashes his ID, and we proceed into a hallway that leads us straight into the judge’s chamber, along with the defense lawyer.

I can see Jacinta’s mouth opening, about to say something, but she is beaten to it by the judge. “It seems we have had an unfortunate turn of events.”

My heart beats louder than a drum and my brain is screaming the thought that they have escaped. They are out there, lying in wait for me.

“What the hell is going on!” Jacinta doesn’t hold back.

The judge offers a glare to put her in her place, but I’m not sure anyone could ever achieve that.

“It seems our prisoner has been found deceased in his holding cell, along with the three other men on trial with him. That is as much as I can tell you.”

My brain stumbles over the words he just said, and I can’t seem to process it.

“Wait, what?” I mumble. My whole body is shaking.

At the same time, Kurt, who