Page 112 of Cowboys & Navy SEALs

“Hello? Mason? Is that you?” She stepped into the kitchen at the same instant she heard the grating laugh.

“Who the devil is Mason? That blockhead you had planted outside your front door?” A cruel grin twisted Tuck’s handsome features, revealing the monster within. “Sugar, the next time you hire a bodyguard, make sure he doesn’t have a weakness for a beautiful woman holding a box of doughnuts.” He grunted. “The fool digested enough sleeping pills to keep him dozing for a good long time. Who knows? Maybe even enough to kill him.”

The words flowed so casually out of Tuck’s mouth, he might’ve been talking about the weather rather than the life of a human being. With his blonde hair, even features, and bright-blue eyes, Tuck was the quintessential golden boy—his outward appearance belying the psychopath within. He’d grown a mustache since she’d last seen him, and his hair was shorter.

She let out a cry, tremors shooting through her body. A wave of dizziness assaulted her as she staggered, trying to get her balance. Her mind tried to come to grips with the fact that her worst nightmare was sitting on a barstool, his feet propped on the kitchen island. An incredulous laugh rose in her throat. Tuck was munching on an apple, of all things. Her breath froze when she saw the pistol in his other hand.Run!her mind screamed. But to where? Tuck would shoot her before she made it two steps away.

She straightened her shoulders, trying to mask her fear with an expression of outrage. Tuck fed on weakness. “You have no right to be here.”

“Oh, I have every right, darling.” He looked her up and down, a brazen glint in his eyes.

Revulsion welled in her as she tightened the tie on her robe. “What do you want, Tuck?” She tried to think … She was holding her phone.Was it possible to call 911?

“Did you really think you could get rid of me?” He laughed, but the coldness in his eyes sent shivers down her spine. “As if changing your stupid phone number or hiring a few bodyguardswould keep me away.” She felt like she was staring into the face of the devil as he locked eyes with her. Then his expression grew plaintive, like the child in him was taking centerstage. “I miss you.” His voice grew pleading, confused. “H-how could you desert me? Your own husband?”

In the early days, she’d been taken in by Tuck’s manipulation, believed there was good in him. It was a vicious cycle. He’d beat her senseless, then beg for her forgiveness, romancing her enough so that she’d actually believe things could be different. Then, when she let her guard down, the demon in him would rear its ugly head. Her voice sounded as brittle and hollow as she felt. “We’re divorced, Tuck. You no longer have any claim on me.”

He grunted. “Barbie Face, in the eyes of the Lord we’re married ‘til death do we part.” His eyes narrowed. “The two of us will be together, until one of us is put in a box.” His voice rose. “You got that?”

She jerked, hugging her arms. Wishing she could make herself small enough to disappear. Tuck had always called herBarbie Face.There was a time when she thought the nickname was cute. When she was young and stupid … flattered that he noticed her.

Tuck tossed the half-eaten apple on the floor and sat up.

Delaney sensed a shift in his demeanor, knew everything was coming to a head. Tuck was tired of talking. Blood pounded against Delaney’s temples. She tried to swallow down her alarm, keep her wits about her. “What do you want? Money? I’ll give you as much as you want. Just leave me alone.” She hated the desperate edge in her voice. Hated how small and miserable this man made her feel. Life with him had been a horrible series of memories that she wanted to erase from her mind.

His voice took on the silky tone of a snake, slithering around its prey. “Look at you … all high and mighty. Country musicstar Delaney Mitchell. Has a much better ring than Delores Millstead. But no matter how much lipstick you slather on a pig, it’s still a pig, after all.” He grunted. “To answer your question. I’ll take the money and anything else I want.” His eyes raked over her.

Revulsion welled in her stomach. She’d seen that look before, knew what it meant.

Tuck’s voice took on a disinterested tone as he motioned. “Now take off that robe. It’s time you performed your wifely duty.”

Terror—swift and paralyzing—raced over her. And with that terror came a smoldering anger. It wouldn’t be enough for Tuck to rape her, he wanted to humiliate her first. They’d been through this routine more times than she could count—her standing before Tuck while he pointed out all the flaws in her body like she was nothing more than a branded piece of livestock. It made her disgusted with herself that she’d allowed him to wield so much control over her.

“No!” Even if she died here tonight she wouldn’t be subjected to his cruelty any longer.

His jaw went slack as he rocked back. Then he barked out an uncertain laugh before his eyes went hard. He swiped the glass fruit bowl with his arm, sending it flying to the floor where it splintered into pieces.

Delaney flinched, but held her ground. “Get out! Before I call the police.”

Rage twisted Tuck’s face as he sprang to his feet and rushed at her, knocking the phone out of her hand. He grabbed her throat and pushed her against the wall. She gurgled, trying to get her breath, her fingers clawing against his hand. Stars exploded before her eyes. In a matter of seconds, she’d pass out. A futile terror iced over her, her eyes bulging, her lungs craving air.

“You listen to me,” he seethed, his face purple. “You belong to me! And you’ll do what I say!” He released his hold on her throat. She coughed, drawing in a haggard breath. He pressed against her with his body weight, trailing the barrel of the pistol along her jaw. “Now whaddaya say we start this conversation over? The robe comes off!”

As he pulled at the tie, something inside her snapped. She let out a visceral scream and went on the attack, digging her fingernails into his eyes. Then she went for the pistol, trying to pry it out of his hands. No doubt, Tuck was stronger. Had she not taken him by surprise or been so enraged, she might not have stood a chance. But he stumbled back and tried to regain his balance. They wrestled, Delaney keeping a firm grip on the gun with both hands against his one hand. That was her only chance … to get the gun away from him. Delaney heard a loud bang, felt the brunt kick of the gun being fired. For a split second, she thought she’d been shot.

No, not her.

Disbelief widened Tuck’s eyes. “You shot me.” He backed away, holding a hand over the wound in his torso as he slumped to his knees, then fell to the floor.

Delaney gasped, the hard reality of what had just happened overtaking her. Her body shook, her mind whirling. Somehow, she managed to get to her phone. She pressed 911.

“My ex-husband broke into my condo.” Her voice broke. “I shot him.” She looked at the blood pooling like an ink stain over his clothes. “I—I think I killed him.” She dropped the phone and fell to her knees, sobbing.

Chapter Two

Acurious numbness came over Delaney as she stood in front of Tuck’s hospital bed. He was in a coma, tubes hooked to his motionless body. She should feel grief, shouldn’t she? She’d loved him once. But that love had been snuffed out, a bitter hatred filling the empty space.

No charges were being filed against her. It was a clear-cut case of self-defense. Tuck drugged her bodyguard, who thankfully was okay, and broke into her condo with the intent to rape and possibly murder her. While Delaney didn’t have to worry about the legal repercussions, the media was having a heyday with the story. Milo was trying his best to do damage control for Delaney and the record label.

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