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Sorry, Clay, but we simply must have your wife!
Trying to get on with her life, she'd even moved from her previous apartment that they'd once lived in together - though not entirely by her own choice. After that night when his temper had erupted like Mount Vesuvius, her apartment building manager sent her a notice to vacate the premises within thirty days. Her now ex-husband had kicked a hole in the front door of her apartment after she was just a second too slow trying to get away from him and she hadn't gotten the door completely closed in time. Though she pleaded with the landlords to reconsider and offered to pay for any damage, they insisted for the safety of the other tenants that she had to leave their apartment as soon as possible.
"Look Donnie, I really don't know what the hell you're talking about," Charlene said quietly, looking down at the floor now.
"Is that right?"
"No, really I don't. I thought you told me you wanted a divorce so you could go be with one of those skank ass hoes you were running around with back then," Charlene looked him in the eyes again struggling to keep her voice tone even as she spoke, trying not to let the anger, hurt, betrayal and bitterness she still felt creep into her words.
"You stupid bitch!" Donnie snapped angrily. "I told you the only way you were really gonna be able to get away from me was if you moved far, far away and I couldn't find you or if you killed me. Did you think I was kidding?"
Charlene knew she was in trouble now. Almost absent-mindedly, she took a long gulp of her wine, draining all of her glass's contents at once before turning away from Donnie and placing her empty glass and the bottle on a nearby bookshelf. She didn't look back over at her ex-husband. She was trying to think of the best escape route from her current predicament. However, living on the second floor of an apartment building was going to limit most of her options for fleeing. She also knew in a fight that clearly she'd lose. Donnie was infinitely stronger than her and she really didn't want to get hurt. She could yell and scream for help, but she feared that such actions would only get her kicked out of this apartment too. Besides, by the time help arrived, Donnie would probably have already done whatever he'd come here to do.
Charlene's mind was whirling. She was a good girl. She'd gone to mostly private schools her entire life and had even gone to a top college that was also a Catholic university. How had she ended up ever marrying this low-life ruffian? Why was he back now after all this time anyway? Did he really think she would ever have the gull to defy him by turning him in to the police? She knew very little about his illegal substance trafficking and other 'business.' Besides, since she used to be married to him, she wouldn't have said anything about his illicit affairs anyway. Not only was spousal communication privileged information in the eyes of the law, she wouldn't have wanted to get pulled into any charges based on any of his bad behavior. Lost in her thoughts, Charlene was unaware of any of her ex's movements within the room. Suddenly, she felt strong hands fiercely grab hold of both of her arms, turning her to face him.
"You've been a very bad girl Charlie, setting me up like that," he said angrily, digging his fingers into her naked arms even more, bruising her delicate flesh. "And you know what happens to bad girls, don't you? Bad girls have to be punished," he said harshly, answering his own question.
Before his words could fully register in her brain, Donnie ripped her towel from around her naked body and threw it on the floor. Her full breasts were exposed and her nipples immediately began to harden from the cool air in the room, her stand fan oscillating and creating a periodic breeze blowing across them. She moved her hands up instinctively to cover her breasts from his apparent lustful gaze. Charlene could feel the burning flush coming into her cheeks. "Don't be shy now, babe," Donnie said sardonically, knocking her hands away from her breasts so he see their full view.