He watches me in silence. I think it must be sex. I go to him. He sits on the edge of the bed and pulls me to stand between his legs. My hands hurt from hitting things. He kisses them. “Revenge,” he says softly. “They took too much. You give up and die, or learn how to take back. Revenge, Mac.” I cock my head. I try the word on my tongue. “Revenge.” Yes. That is what I want. He is gone when I wake, and I have a bad moment, but then he is there and has brought many boxes and some of them smell good. I no longer resist when he offers me food. I anticipate it. Food is pleasure. Sometimes I put
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