CAPO

19. Marcus.

"Oh, look at big and bad Arabella, what you gonna do? Hm?"

She felt her fists shake and Marcus leaned forward. She could smell the alcohol and she scrunched her nose, her eyes shooting daggers at his face.

"Well? Do something, bitch. Hit me if you want,"

Anger filled her veins and she started breathing heavier, years of anger management therapy leaving her body through her pores, anger replacing the spot. She grew angry very quickly and it showed by the way her eyes were filled with nothing, how her thoughts had paused and how she didn't breathe.

"God, you're a fucking pussy, aren't you? Can't even hit me back, can't do anything right."

There it was.

She thought, the sentence that completely drove her insane. She closed her eyes, allowing the anger to take over her common sense, and her nails dug into her palms.

She shoved him then, eliciting a cocky laugh from him. He stepped towards her again and his hand curled into her hair behind her head and he whipped her back, and then her cheekbone connected with the wall, making her mewl out in pain.

She gripped his hand, and he stood close to her then and whispered: "If I hear anything about you and Giovanni again, I'll kill you,"

Her anger was far too great for her to listen to anything he said. She inhaled and he pushed her further against the wall, making her cry out in pain.

Then, she thanked her mother for forcing her to attend kickboxing lessons. With all her strength, she ignored the pain from his hold on her hair and she pushed herself back against his chest and then she whipped her head back, hitting him straight in the nose.

She spun around and watched as he stumbled back against the island, profanities leaving his mouth as he clutched his now broken nose.

She gripped the back of his red hair, smashing his face on her jean covered knee, feeling and hearing how his nose broke further upon the second impact. He nearly screamed and she then shoved him down by his shoulders, making him fall down on her tiled floor like she was throwing down a bag of potatoes.

Anger now controlled her actions and she bended down, straddling his waist. His hands came out to her in attempt to stop her, all the while spewing disgusting insults at her.

Her closed fists connected with his chest and she hit him over and over again, her throat growing hoarse from her screaming in pure anger. He groaned and spluttered and tried his best to move, but in his drunken state his movements were slowed, giving her the upper hand.

Then, Anger moved upwards. Her hands connected with his face and she felt pain bloom all over her hands and she momentarily tasted blood. She didn't know if it was from Marcus or from her screaming.

Anger then snapped her head up, eyes immediately finding the case fill of pink roses. She lunged for it, gripping the base. She snapped it down on his face, a blood curdling scream leaving his lips. Anger gripped a sharp, translucent piece of glass.

Anger lifted her hand, the glass cutting into her palms. She breathed out and Marcus' screams doubled when he opened his eyes. "Please, Bella! Please!"

She spoke then, her voice deep and almost sounding demonic to the man below her, "Now you can never hurt me again,"

Then, her hand snapped down. And then up again, and then down again. The glass cut into his chest and her palms and her head didn't lower as she hit him, she looked out in front of her and once his screams stopped, Anger left Arabella as Marcus' soul left his body.

She looked down, and her scream bled through her mouth and tears fell down her cheeks as she clumsily scurried off of him, crawling backwards until her back collided with the fridge, directly across from him.

She looked down at her hands. Sticky crimson blood covered her entire hands and the glass fell to the floor, blood steadily running out of her cut palms. She panted, spitting a glob of her own blood on the floor, her throat burning like it was on fire.

Marcus' body didn't move and Arabella's head was throbbing violently as she sobbed. Her fingers gripped the roots of her hair and her entire body shook. She bit onto her lip and watched as blood dropped out from her nose and her lip and her palms.

Then, a single word flashed in her brain.

Giovanni.

She snapped up, grabbing her phone from ontop of the counter. It stuck to her hand like her palm was coated in caramel, her thumbs sticking against the screen as she scrolled down to his name.

The girl held the phone to her ear as her cries echoed through her small apartment.

"Giovanni,"

"Gio? I need you,"