Annie pulled her car into the carport she shared with Duke. His truck sat parked in its usual spot, while his police cruiser resided on the street. He liked to park his patrol car on the curb to scare people as they drove by. Vehicles would slow down the minute they thought a cop watched. Authority gave him a thrill.

She grabbed her purse off the passenger seat and took a deep breath. God. What the hell had happened tonight?

That big, burly blond guy—Tank. And his little dark-headed friend—his girlfriend? For his sake, she hoped not. They appeared about as good for each other as a drug to an addict, not to mention the thought made her slightly jealous.

How stupid.

When she was a little girl, she’d begged her dad to walk to the water with her so she could play. While she loved spending time with him, what she really enjoyed was staring at the shy boy across the stream. For seven summers, she’d waved, hoping to get a chance to talk to him, and every time she waved, he would keep his head down, and barely raise his hand.

When she began to take it personally, her dad would excuse the boy’s behavior as him being shy. Until finally, on one hot day, he’d worked up the nerve to talk to her. That summer, when he left to return home before she could get any contact information from him, a bit of her heart sunk. Too embarrassed to ask his grandfather for the information, she resorted to counting down the days until he would come back again the next summer. But, right before he did, everything in her life changed.

For the worse.

And now, that boy was back in her life. Except he was no boy. He’d been in the diner every day for the past week, and every day she’d had to concentrate on not staring at him. Problem was, he was so big she couldn’t help but see him. And if the small tingles of fascination she experienced for him weren’t bad enough, he’d always make the sensation worse by coming in and talking to her. Only her. Never the other girls. And his shyness…he must have outgrown it.

Anytime one of Duke’s friends would stop in and notice, she’d cut the conversation off, and a balloon of panic would swell in her gut. She often feared Duke could read her mind.

If only Tank had spoken to her more when they were children, maybe things would be different for her now.

Who was she kidding? Young love didn’t last. Not that she’d ever been in love with the big burly man anyway.

She pushed the childish notion aside and reached for her locket, kissing the gold. “Give me strength, Daddy,” she whispered as she stepped out of her car.

She cringed at the pain in her joints, but the dull ache was quickly replaced with dread of what she would walk inside to. Duke’s moods were always a surprise. Some days elation, some days anger. Maybe he was passed out on the sofa. She could only wish.

Discomfort ricocheted up her leg with every step as the noise from the television greeted her entrance. She crossed the threshold, checking the house alarm. Off.

Her fiancé’s brooding expression made her wish the diner stayed open twenty-four seven. She’d work triple shifts if she could. “Hey, honey. How was your day?”

“Fantastic, honey. How was yours, honey?” He chugged his beer and crushed the can in his hand.

“What’s wrong?” She dreaded asking.

“Turns out, Murphy’s re-running for Sheriff after all.”

His campaign. Of course.

“Floyd Murphy? I thought he decided not to run for a second term.”

“He did. At least, that’s what he told my father. Turns out the bastard changed his mind.”

Gently, she placed her purse on the kitchen counter. His prescription bottle still sat full near the sink. He hadn’t taken his medicine in months.

Tread carefully.

Keeping her voice soft, she said, “That’s okay. I’m sure you’ll still win.”

“Of course, I’ll win. This just means I’ll have to work harder, but I can’t campaign full time while working as Chief of Police. I need to start a committee, immediately.” He stood and paced in front of the couch. “And as my future wife, you’ll lead it. You’ll stop working at the diner so much. I don’t like you there all the time anyway. There are too many men that come in and out of there.”

Men. No. Had someone said something?

Before she could comment, he blurted, “How much money did you make today?”

“Seventy-five dollars.”

He stopped and stared at her. “That’s twenty dollars more than yesterday. You flirted with someone, didn’t you?”

Please not this. Not the accusations.

Keeping the tiger at bay wasn’t something she had the energy for tonight. Her heart raced as she shook her head and took in a deep breath. “No. Of course not.” She didn’t have a death wish.

If Brayden talked to him about waiting on Tank, no matter what she said, Duke wouldn’t believe her, especially if anyone else mentioned seeing the big biker in the diner throughout the week. Duke would instantly think the guy was flirting. Though, she wasn’t sure if the man offering her a place to stay would be considered flirting or downright crazy.

Duke stomped toward her, and his eyes changed from stormy to wild.

Her heart sped at the animalistic gaze. She braced herself for a blow, but instead, he yanked her arm, pulling her beside him on the couch. Pain seared up her week-old bruises and to her shoulder. If he didn’t stop pulling her arm so hard, she would have to quit the diner altogether from injury instead of just cutting back her hours.

“Duke, baby, you’re hurting me.” She did her best to keep the panic out of her voice. If she remained calm, he might back off.

Just stay calm.

He eased his grip and gently placed the backside of his hand to her cheek. “Oh, Annie, I just love you so much.” His voice was nearly a whisper. “You’re so beautiful. It’s no wonder you made more money in tips today. All those men, they are flirting with you, and I can’t stand the thought.” He reached behind her head and pulled the band, releasing her ponytail. “I love it when you wear your hair down. You should do it more often.”

“Okay,” she said, scared of the look in his eyes. If she did whatever he said, kept him happy, they might still have a good night. She could get some sleep.

He played with a lock of her hair. “You need me, you know that? Before me, you were barely surviving. I’ve given you a house, clothes, and food. Soon, you will have my name. Do you know how lucky you are?”

Yeah, lucky.

Keep him happy.

“I do.” At one time, she believed herself lucky landing a guy like Duke. He’d charmed his way in her heart and her bed. But now, times like this, when the medicine was no longer in his system, she feared the worst from him.

“I’m so lucky I found you, and I need you, too, Annie. God, you’re my everything. But…”

The grip on her hair tightened, straining the roots at her scalp. She gasped more from fear than agony.

“If I were to find out you’ve been flirting with someone, I don’t know what I’d do.”

He snaked his other hand to her face, cupping her chin. The pressure from his fingers pressed into her cheeks, causing her lips to pucker. She turned her head, tried to wiggle free. No use.

The pounding in her chest increased as he leaned closer, his mouth an inch from her ear. An uncontrollable shake took over her body.

“You’re mine,” he whispered, his breath touching her cheek. “Do you understand that?”

Unable to speak from his hand clenching her mouth shut, she nodded.

He released his hold. “I knew you would, baby. And that’s one of the reasons I love you so much. You’re so understanding.” Placing a quick kiss on her forehead, he sat back as if nothing had happened. “Now, how much closer are we to paying for the wedding? We’ve got to set a date, and soon. Mother is getting anxious, and she’s annoying the hell out of me.”

He popped the top of another beer can, which did nothing to help her racing heart.

“And my father…pressuring me to ‘have a wife on the campaign trail.’” His last words were emphasized with air quotes. “Jesus Christ, they get on my nerves.” He took a swig. “So, how much closer?”

She rubbed her jaw and glanced at the crushed beer cans on the end table. Six. Working on seven. She had to choose her words wisely. The added stress of his campaign, his family, and the wedding were enough to set him over the edge. Without his anti-anxiety medication to keep him on an even level, he was a ticking time bomb.

“We’re getting much closer.”

“How much closer.”

“Well, the guest list is pretty long. We still need about six thousand more dollars to reserve the services your mother wants.”

“Six thousand? Just to reserve. Jeez, Annie.” He slammed his beer can against the wall. Gold fizz sprayed in the air, covering the living room curtains and the floor.

She jumped and pushed back in her seat, her back rigid against the sofa. He stood and began to pace, his hands balled into fists at his sides.

 Running wasn’t an option—he stood between her and the door. She had to calm him down. Her body couldn’t handle another strike. Not today.

“Why the hell is your mother such a bum, huh?” He slicked his fingers through the sides of his hair. “Why can’t she help?”

There he went again. “I’m sorry. She’s disabled, you know that.”

He paced in front of her some more. “Disabled. Is that what you call crazy? Disabled.”

His words set an inferno ablaze inside of her. Her mother was no crazier than he was sane at this moment. “My mother is not crazy. Don’t call her that.”

He stopped and stared. “Did you just command me not to do something?”

She glanced up at him with hooded eyes. “Duke, baby, we could have a wedding tomorrow if your mother didn’t want to invite the entire county. Five hundred people is a lot to feed.”

“So, not only are you talking back to me, but now you’re blaming my mother for your shitty pedigree.”

She should have kept her mouth shut. Maybe she did have a death wish.

“Duke, I’m…I’m sorry.”

He stormed toward her, his hands balled in tight fists at his sides, and his teeth clenched. “You’re damn right you’re sorry.”

Holding her palms up in a stopping motion, she stammered, “I didn’t mean to upset you, but I think you need to take your medicine, baby. You think better when you take your pills.” She glanced from his angered eyes to the door. If she ducked quickly enough, could she get past him?

“I don’t need my medicine.”

A searing pain blasted through her skull as flashes of light popped before her eyes. In her haste to search for an exit, she hadn’t even seen his hand rise. She held her cheek and blinked several times, willing the haze in her vision to go away, and the sting from his blow to subside. In all his hatred, he’d never hit her in the face before.

“That was for your own good. Never talk to me like that again. A good wife never back talks her husband.”

As she regained her focus, the throbbing in her cheek caused tears to well in her eyes, starting the blurriness all over again. Warm blood trickled down her face and into her palm as more blood whooshed in her ears. The pounding in her head matched that of her racing heart.

“Now look what you’ve made me do. You call in sick tomorrow and every day after until that cut goes away, do you hear me?”

The bright red tinge staining her palm held her focus. Something inside of her snapped as she glanced from her hand then back to the angry man before her.

Her life would never get better. Not with Duke.

The shaking in her limbs intensified as a rush of adrenaline took over. “Why?” She gripped the arm of the sofa for balance and pushed to stand. “Because that’s what a good wife would do, or because someone would realize their dearly beloved Chief of Police is nothing more than an abuser. No better than the scum he picks up every day off the streets.”

As soon as the hasty words flew out, she regretted them.

He grabbed her by her shirt, her locket getting caught in his grasp as he pulled her head toward him. She just knew the chain would snap as it dug into her neck.

A traitorous whimper escaped her. “Duke, please...” she pleaded, more for her locket than for herself. One of the few possessions she had to remind her of her father. Why didn’t she keep her damn mouth shut? She’d never spoke to him like that before.

He leaned his face over hers; his hot beer breath hit her nose, and the pungent smell insulted her senses.

“You will never talk to me like that again. Do you understand?”

She understood.

Finally.

After months of abuse, everything began to click. What the biker woman had told her was true. No matter how good she was, how much she tried, Duke would never stop beating her. Her spine stiffened. So what if she continued to talk back? What did she have to lose? Her life?

How wonderful that’s turned out to be.

At least she’d get to be with her dad again.

“Why can’t I talk to you like that? It’s the way you talk to me. Afraid you might hit me again, or worse?” she strained to ask against the pain pulling in her neck as she stared into his crazed eyes. Eyes somehow, someway, she had to get away from.

Fire flashed in his pupils.

He reached to his side, pulled out his pistol, and pointed the barrel straight to her head. The cold steel grazed her hairline. She stood there helpless as the man who claimed to love her threatened to kill her.

Fear rolled through her stomach, and her breaths came out quick and shallow.

“Don’t push me, Annie.” He thrust the barrel deeper into her skin. “There are other pretty women out there. Others who will keep their mouths shut and look better than you standing beside me when I become Sherriff.”

His hand shook. The pistol wavered slightly against her head, as his finger hovered over the trigger. All it would take was one pull. One pull, and she would be dead. She heard the safety click and prayed for the bullet to do the job quickly. The thought of dying scared her, but the thought of living a life with Duke, this life forever, terrified her even more. Some things were worse than death.

“Well, go find one.” She closed her eyes and began to recite the Lord’s Prayer in her mind.

To her surprise, instead of hearing the blow of the bullet, the tension holding her neck released. She opened her eyes; the butt of the gun came into her peripheral vision before a loud crack against her temple pounded in her ears. Shades of blurriness engulfed her vision, the light and dark coming in and out like a kaleidoscope. As if weightless and in slow motion, she tumbled downward. Her side hit something hard, causing her breath to rush from her lungs, and she suffocated the cry that tried to escape. Her body made contact with the carpet, the world around her a medley of haze and light.

She would be still. So still. If he thought she’d passed out, perhaps he would leave her alone.

God, how she prayed this could all end.