The broken weapon

Episode 5

Scout's pov

Bella was wasted.

Not tipsy. Not just having a “good time.” She was gone.

She twirled in the middle of the dance floor, arms flung wide, laughing like she had just been set free from a cage. Like this wasn’t her own wedding reception but some kind of cruel joke. The hem of her dress dragged, and when she tried to spin again, she almost fell flat on her face.

I saw it before it happened, and before I even thought about it, I was moving. My hand caught her arm, steadying her just before she hit the floor.

She looked up, eyes glassy but still burning. Still defiant.

“You’re making a scene,” I muttered, keeping my grip firm but not tight.

Her lips curled, smudged lipstick making her look a little wild. “Am I?” she slurred. “I’m just celebrating my freedom.”

She flung her arms out again, nearly knocking over a waiter carrying champagne. He dodged, barely. A few people nearby whispered behind their glasses.

I clenched my jaw. “You’re drunk.”

“So?” she grinned, swaying on her feet. “It’s my wedding. I can do whatever I want.”

I exhaled through my nose. She wasn’t just drunk. She was picking a fight. She wanted me to snap, to drag her away, kicking and screaming, just so she could prove a point.

It's not happening, I thought.

I lowered my voice. “You’re coming with me.”

Her expression sharpened just enough to show she still had some fight left. “No I am not going anywhere”.

I didn’t have the patience for this. “You don’t have a choice.”

She let out a bitter laugh. “I always have a choice,” she shot back, shoving at my chest. It didn’t do much. Her hands were small, and she was unsteady.

Then she turned, ignoring me entirely, lifting her arms like she was about to start dancing again.

Enough.

I grabbed her arm, pulling her close. “You’re embarrassing yourself,” I said, voice sharp.

Her smile faded just a little. Her chin lifted. “I don’t care.”

She was lying. She did care. But not about what the guests thought,she cared about this. About winning, about proving something.

The tension between us stretched, so thick I could feel it buzzing under my skin. People were watching. I could feel the weight of their stares pressing down on us.

She was causing a scene intentionally.

I leaned in close. “You’re coming with me,” I murmured. “Now.”

For a second, she looked like she might argue. Might make a bigger scene. But then her shoulders slumped just slightly, and she let me pull her away.

The door clicked shut behind us, after we had gotten home.

She stumbled forward, giggling.

“We need to talk now,” I said, rubbing a hand over my face, trying to find some damn patience,because she was pissing me off so badly.

Bella turned, swaying slightly, her pupils blown wide. “Talk?” she repeated like it was a joke. “What’s there to talk about? You’re a brute, and I’m…” She threw her hands out dramatically. “A princess.”She added and chuckled.

She was just uttering nonsense.

I barely caught a vase before she knocked it over.

Jesus Christ, I muttered.

She stepped closer, her fingers grazing my chest. “You know,” she whispered, voice dipping low, “you’re actually kinda… hot.” The normal Bella would never behave this way .

I blinked,I didn't know if to laugh,because I knew Bella would never have said this to me if she wasn't drunk.

What.

Her hands moved to my tie, clumsily tugging. “Loosen up,” she murmured. “Let’s have some fun," she added biting her lips seductively.

I caught her wrists, stopping her. “Bella. You’re drunk."I said again .

Her smile faltered. For the first time all night, something cracked.

And then ...

Tears rolled down the corner of her eyes.

Like they’d been waiting just under the surface.

Her shoulders trembled, and her breath hitched. “Yes, I know ,” she whispered. “I know what I’m saying. I hate you. I hate them all.” She sniffed, swiping angrily at her eyes. “My family… they don’t care. They sold me.”

She choked on her sob, collapsing onto the floor.

Was she not the one uttering nonsense and then she just switched.

I stood there,frozen, this wasn’t just drunken rambling.

This was pain ,anger, frustration.

“They just gave me away,” she growled. “Like I was nothing. Just a replacement.” Her hands curled into fists in her lap. “A substitute.” She added.

Well what was I expecting? I had never been loved so I shouldn't be surprised that I was sold out, she said .

And you forced me into this,you kidnapped me and threatened me ,you are evil she pointed at me.

I swallowed, something heavy settling in my chest.

Then she lifted her head, eyes red-rimmed but still burning. “You think you can control me,” she whispered. “You think you can break me.” She let out a small, bitter laugh. “But you can’t.”

Something cold slithered down my spine.

“I’ll make you pay,” she murmured. “I’ll make all of you pay for doing this to me”.

Then, just as suddenly as she had unraveled.She laughed. A sharp, broken sound.

And then she slumped forward and Passed out . I ran a hand through my hair, exhaling slowly.

I sighed heavily, this I trouble we haven't even lived together that long and problem and started arising.

For the first time all night, I wasn’t annoyed. I wasn’t even angry.

I was… unsettled.

Because I had expected a spoiled, rebellious bride. A difficult woman who didn’t want this life but would eventually fall in line.

What I got instead was something else entirely.

I bent down, scooping her up in my arms. She was light, boneless from the alcohol, but there was still a weight to her presence.

She held me tight as if she was scared of something.

I carried her to the bed, laying her down gently.She wasn’t just some angry girl acting out.

She was broken.

And broken things?

They had nothing left to lose.