“Do you have a suitcase?” I asked.

He was momentarily perplexed. “What?”

“A suitcase. Something small. I don’t have hardly anything to pack.” I continued folding clothing. “I would use a garbage bag, but I really don’t want to appear in public like a homeless woman.”

“Why not?” he said. “It’s what you are.”

I ignored him and kept folding.

He reached toward the top of his closet, opened a cabinet door, pulled down a valise, and shoved it into my chest. “Take it.”

I winced with pain as it hit my broken ribs. It was a beautiful, burnished leather case with his initials in gold. “This looks nice,” I told him. “I don’t want to ruin it. Do you have anything cheaper?”

“I don’t do cheap … only in wives.”

Again, I ignored him. “I’ll send it back when I get to where I’m going. Thank you.”

He said, “And where are you headed?”

Sarcastic tone. “Well …” I stopped for a moment. “I can’t go back to L.A. And I can’t go to New York because Devek knows the city. I figured I’d try Chicago since I went to school there—”

“Which I paid for.”

“You did. Thank you.” I resumed my packing.

“Terry, this is ridiculous,” he said. “C’mon. I know things got a little out of hand—”

“You raped me, Chris.” I looked into his eyes. “Then you threatened to beat me.”

“Terry, you know how I am when I’m mad. I was blowing off hot air.”

“And sometimes you do more than just blow hot air.”

“I told you it will never happen again!” He was breathing hard. “You’re not even well enough to take a shower by yourself, let alone settle yourself and your daughter into a new city.”

“I was hoping to leave Juleen here.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” He was incredulous. “You’re abandoning your child? Again?”

“I’m not abandoning her!” I was defensive. “I just want to be settled before I come get her.”

“You’re leaving your bastard daughter with me? At a brothel?”

“I figure she’s safe here with you … unless you decide to pimp her.”

“I hadn’t thought about it, but now that you mention it, men would pay big time for those young little luscious lips.”

My stomach turned. “You’re positively vile.”

“And you’re no better than a common whore, using me for money,” he snapped back. “Speaking of which, you have none.”

“Unless you intend to steal from me, I came here with about eight hundred dollars.”

“Oh, that’ll get you far. Then again, I suppose your food bill won’t be too high since your fucking jaw is wired.”

I didn’t answer him. What was the point?

“You want money?” When I remained silent, he said, “You want fucking money, Terry?” He grabbed my left arm.

“Let go of me!”

“You want money?”