B.J. Daniels - Lassoed

“You had friends in Oklahoma?”

She nodded. “I lost track of them once we got to North Dakota. Duane made sure of that. It’s hard to accept that I’m the classic case. The abused wife. But Duane wasn’t like this when we were dating. He was …” She let her voice trail off. “That’s not true. The signs were there. He was controlling but I wanted to believe it was because he cared and just wanted what was best for me, like he said.” She laughed at that. “I was such a fool.”

“We’ve all been fools,” Tanner said. “Myself included. But you realized your mistake and got away from him.”

If only it were that simple.

“You don’t know my husb … Duane,” she said. She couldn’t bear to call him her husband anymore. She hadn’t only left him, hadn’t merely taken off her wedding rings. In her heart she was no longer Duane Rasmussen’s wife, and last night with Tanner she’d felt like a free woman, even though she’d only been kidding herself.

Under the law, she was still Duane Rasmussen’s wife. Only technically, she thought, because there was no love in her heart for him. When had she stopped loving him? She didn’t know. Just as she didn’t know when she’d begun to hate him.

“He’s … dangerous,” she said, thinking that was putting it mildly.

Tanner let out a dismissive sound. “Only to a woman who can’t fight back.”

She shook her head. “He carries a gun, he kills people.” And when he caught her, she wouldn’t be the first person he killed in a rage. “Duane’s a cop.”

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