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With her knees physically banging together, Ari stood.
Thoughts of Sloane were immediately replaced with worries that they hadn’t done enough to prove their case. Juries were so unpredictable. It wasn’t impossible for them to believe his defense if they really wanted to acquit.
Even when juries thought people were guilty, they still issued their own kinds of pardons if they found the defendant sympathetic enough. Ari’s eyes darted to the side, catching a glimpse of Mr. Dominguez through her peripheral vision. His expression was as smug as it had been throughout trial. He either wasn’t worried or was desperately trying to hide his fear.
She had no doubt in her mind that he was guilty but was better than most at covering his tracks. If he was allowed to continue to torment his ex-wife — Ari stopped the thought midstream. She wouldn’t let herself think of that unless she had to. Panicking wasn’t going to help anyone. Least of all, Ms. Dominguez, who looked like she hadn’t slept in days.
The jury had to see that, right? Her testimony had been strong and her fear of him palpable.
One by one, the jurors entered the courtroom and sat down
. Ari watched each one of them. Studied their faces.
Desperate for any hint of how they might have voted. They gave nothing away, or if they did, she was too overwhelmed to read it.
Ari had to stop herself from reaching over and clutching Sloane’s hand. The anticipation was too much to handle. If she could, she’d hit fast forward or close her eyes until the judge read the verdict. None of those were options, so she held her breath and waited while the judge accepted the folded piece of paper, checking the verdict before handing it back to the baili .
The time it took the verdict to travel back to the jury’s foreperson was interminable. Ari’s mouth went dry, and her pulse jumped so wildly in her neck, she was sure something was going to come apart in her body.
As the foreperson stood, Ari stopped breathing. For a moment, instead of talking all she could hear was a painful ringing in her ears. She glanced at Sloane. Cool and stoic as ever, but she was too on edge to feel envious. Her senses were full with more important things.
“As to the sole count of stalking, how do you find?” the judge asked.
“We find the defendant,” the foreperson cleared her throat before locking eyes with the defendant and sending Ari’s blood pressure through the roof, “guilty.”
Behind Ari was the loud sound of a body dropping into an empty wooden bench. She turned toward it to see Ms.
Dominguez, her body trembling as she cried in the victim services agent’s arms.
“Are you kidding me! This is rigged! Impossible,” Mr.
Dominguez raged, throwing papers o the defense counsel table.
“Sir, restrain yourself or I will be forced to do so,” the judge warned, but he was inconsolable.
“These bitches set me up!” he shouted, turning toward her and Sloane before lunging. His defense attorney tried to block him, but he was too slow and managed only to knock him o balance before losing his footing and falling to the floor.
All the anger and rage he’d been hiding behind a smug, shit-eating grin erupted. In a flurry of shouts, the baili sprinted toward them. Ari wrapped her arms around Sloane’s waist, throwing her like a shot-put into the chair behind her.
Shielding her with her body, Ari ran as she pushed the chair getting them both out of harm’s way.
“I’m going to kill you!” he screamed, turning his attention to his wife just before being tackled by the baili , who landed on him and held him down with his body weight.
The judge jumped down from the bench and ordered the jury back to the safety of the deliberation room. He waited until they were gone to turn his attention to the defendant being handcu ed as he kicked and screamed obscenities.
“Remand him into custody. His bond is revoked until sentencing,” the judge roared.
When Dominguez was finally dragged out of the room to the holding cell, Ari allowed herself to breathe again.
Glancing back at the opening courtroom door, she was relieved that his ex-wife had been ushered out to safety.
“Are you okay?” she asked Sloane, who’d turned a rather sickly shade of pale.
Sloane’s eyes were unnaturally wide, but she nodded.
“Yeah,” she decided before getting to her feet. “I wasn’t expecting that, sorry.”
“What? You never had some corporate restructurings go bad?” Ari tried to joke, but she was still too rattled to sell it.
