Part.Of.Me. ~18+

Chapter 8

Marcos Di Caprion -

"Fuck! Fuck! FUCK!" I roared as I stormed into my bedroom, slamming my fists against the wall with bone-crushing force. Each impact sent jolts of pain shooting up my arms, but the agony was drowned out by the anger boiling within me.

Why can't she just fucking understand? All I wanted was to protect her from this cruel world. But as if she were blind to my intentions! It was a good thing I left—if I hadn't, I would've broken something far more precious than furniture.

"Raaaah!" I bellowed again, throwing every book on my shelf to the floor, watching as they scattered like fallen soldiers, their pages crumpling and covers cracking. My once orderly sanctuary now felt like a landscape of chaos, mirroring the storm raging inside me. I could feel the weight of the dimly lit room pressing down, shadows dancing across the walls in shades of orange as the fading light from the sunset sneaked through the large glass window.

I paced back and forth, feeling as if the walls were closing in. Each stomp of my heavy boots pounded like war drums in my ears, beating a rhythm of my fury. She didn't see it. How I was sacrificing everything for her sake. She didn't realize I was the only shield standing between her and the horrors that lurked outside.

With a sudden rush of adrenaline, I smashed my fist into the dresser, the wood splintering beneath my knuckles. I hissed through clenched teeth, watching the tiny shards rain down like shattered dreams. "I'm doing this for you, Ariala!" I screamed into the emptiness, as though the walls could somehow absorb my pain.

I took a deep breath, when I heard the door creak. 

"Get the fuck out." I growled, my chest rising up and down. My voice was low and heavy.

"You know I can't, brother." Lukas said, stepping into the messy room. I was facing the window, my brain foggy and still engulfed in a dark rage.

I could feel his body behind me, and I felt a little less angry. We stood in silence for a while, before he stood next to me, watching the view. "Remember when we were in Middle school and those boys were bullying Celia?" He says his face smiled softly, his eyes turned towards me.

"Kicked the shit outta 'em." I chuckled darkly, the terrfied look on the elementary school boys faces still vivid in my mind as Lukas and I pounced on them, beating them bloody.

"We were suspended for a whole week," Lukas and I couldn't help but laugh. We were born fighters, always fighters.

I turned around, taking in a deep breath. "Y'know, I actually thought we were going to get whipped by Father that day." 

Lukas shook his head. "I would've taken the whipping for Celia any day."

"But father was so proud when we entered the house that day. Mother, on the other hand,"

"Mother has always been a softie." Lukas smiled. "I understand them, you know."

"Understand what?" I glanced at him puzzled.

"Well, when I first had Charlie, I was scared. Scared of making a mistake. Scared of.."

"Of hurting him." I finished.

"Yeah." He said quietly. He walked towards the frame of my bedroom door, tracing his fingers around it, his gaze hardening. "Over time, I learned two things. One, I'm not going to be the best father, but I'm damn as fuck gonna try, and two, let the mom do what she gotta do."

We let out a laugh. But then my thoughts shifted to her.

Lily.

I can still remember her face that day. So. Fucking. Gorgeous.