Misbehaving by Abbi Glines

know that. Hell, baby, I’ve worshipped you since we were kids. I made a mistake, and I’m sorry. I even understand why you beat the shit outta my truck.”
    “A mistake? You made thousands of fucking mistakes. I’m done. Go worship someone else. And I didn’t touch your damn truck,” I yelled, and I shoved him back but not hard enough. He was still inside my house.
    Tears glistened in his bloodshot eyes. “I wanted you to marry me. You wouldn’t marry me. I got mad and I acted out. You know I do that, but you push me anyway. Why wouldn’t you marry me, Jess? I love you. You’re mine. Always been mine.”
    I was his once. And when he had begged me to forgive him I had crumbled. Those days were over. This last time something inside me had shattered. I didn’t love him anymore. He’d made sure of that.
    “Hank,” I said, stepping closer and grabbing his face with my hands. “It’s over. We’re over. I deserve more than you’re willing to give me. I want more.”
    Hank reached up and grabbed my wrist and squeezed. “I won’t fucking let you go. This ain’t over, and it won’t ever be.”
    The rage in his eyes warned me I had pushed too far. I was normally more careful with Hank’s temper. I knew he was still pissed about his truck, but Hank wasn’t exactly stable at times, and when it came to getting me back he could forget easily.
    “Easy, I’m just reminding you of how things are now,” I said in a soothing tone. I really didn’t relish the idea of having to explain a black eye for a week.
    Hank eased his grip and pulled me against his chest. I let him. “Let me stay with you tonight. I need you, baby,” he whispered into my hair.
    “Momma would use you as target practice and you know it. Go home, Hank.” I left out reminding him that us sleeping together would never happen again.
    “No one gets me like you do. I feel so alone. Only you understand me,” he said as he ran his hand down my hair as if it were me he was consoling and not himself.
    Once, words like that had made my heart melt. The chain-link tattoo around his arm was ripped in two with the name Jess holding it together. I had cried the day he got it because I’d thought that his permanently putting me on his body meant we’d be forever. I’d been so stupid. He had cheated on me two weeks later with the girl who now was the mother of his child.
    “It’s not my job to hold you together anymore,” I told him, and his arms only tightened around me.
    “I’m fucked up, baby. You know that. You know why. But you always understood and forgave me. Why did you stop forgiving me?” The emotion in his voice tugged at my heart. I did remember the young boy who was beaten by his mother’s countless boyfriends and stayed in trouble because he was begging for someone to care. But that boy was gone now. The man he had become was someone who didn’t know how to cherish anything or anyone.
    “You broke my heart one too many times,” I replied honestly.
    “NO! Dammit, NO! I won’t accept that. You and me, we’re forever. You and me,” he ended with a sob.
    Seeing big six foot four, muscular, tough Hank cry was always my undoing. I couldn’t stand it when the little boy underneath made his appearance. I patted his back. “Let me go and I’ll let you sleep on the sofa.”
    “I want to sleep with you,” he said, sounding so defeated.
    “No. You sleep on the sofa or you leave.” I was playing with fire here. If I hadn’t eased his temper enough, it could come back in full force.
    “Just want to be close to you. Holding you feels so good.” Again, those were words that had once been my weakness.
    I stepped back and he lifted his head. Tears swam in his eyes, and he didn’t look like the angry, brutal man I knew he could be. He didn’t look like the heartless player who had thrown my love back in my face while he’d slept with other women. He was a lost, hurt little boy who needed someone to care. I had cared once. Deep down I