Sweet Hope (Sweet Home #4)(20)

“Axel, no one should be spoken to like that,” Lexi said quietly, and it was the only time in his whole performance that I saw Lev lose his tough thug act.

Never breaking Levi’s gaze, I shook my head at Lexi. “Let him say whatever he wants to say, Lexi. It’s been a long time coming.”

Levi’s gray eyes lit with fire, and I was sure if he had a gun, I’d be taking a shot of lead to the head. He leaned down farther. “Work at your f*cking fish market, Axe. But know nothing you do will ever make me forgive you. You’re nothing but trash.”

Levi walked out of the house, and I sat at the table, still gripping my coffee, the mug almost cracking under my tight grip.

“Axe, f*ck, he shouldn’t have said all that about Mamma—” Austin tried to say, but I stood, cutting him off, washed my cup out in the sink, and placed it on the drainer.

Closing my eyes and inhaling to fight back the f*cking devastation washing through me, I said, “He’s right, Aust. Everything he said was right.” I looked up to see Austin and Lexi watching me with sympathetic eyes.

I didn’t want no f*cking pity. It only pissed me off more. I wasn’t a damn charity case.

Pushing off the counter, I walked past my brother and wife, but not before saying, “If I could trade places with Mamma, I’d do it in a heartbeat. I deserve to be dead. I ain’t never done nothing good in my whole life. Lev’s right. I’m trash.”

*****

Feeling the cold metal of the hammer in my hands, I began slamming it down on the large chunks of gray-veined Pavonazzo marble that I wouldn’t need on this sculpture. With each blow I felt each one of Levi’s words strike my chest like I was being torn apart.

What the hell have I done to that kid?

I’d f*cking destroyed him, that’s what. Me, the guy who was meant to have protected him, had f*cking destroyed him.

Marble dust clouded the room. Looking at the clay cast I’d created as a template for the real thing, I took my hammer and smashed it straight through the center, two clay pieces crashing to the floor.

The hammer hung at my side. I panted with exertion, the muscles in my arms throbbing with the heavy weight of the tool.

I remained still, staring at the marble. Before I knew it, I’d picked up my pointed chisel and began chipping out a new outline. A certain image pushed its way into my mind, my hands giving it life.

I worked like a crazed man. Hours and hours passed as I chipped at the marble, the definition eventually taking form.

I worked so long that the gray skies gave way to the black of night and a strong wind pelted the long windows of the studio overlooking the Sound.

Muscles aching, body exhausted, I took a step back, assessing the sculpture. I had to turn away. I couldn’t bear to look at it.

As I turned, my eyes filled with water. My normal uncontrollable anger took hold, sparked by a truckload of self-hatred. Then, I noticed Vin standing in the doorway, staring at the unfinished sculpture, a blank expression on his old face.

“How long have you been there?” I asked, gritting my teeth as I went to pick up a towel I’d thrown on my tools. I wiped my face.

“A while,” Vin said, as he shuffled his ageing body into the room, his wooden cane by his side. I tensed as he came closer. I hated anyone seeing my work at any point, but especially when it was in progress. I couldn’t take the judgment.

Vin walked to the sculpture with drawn eyebrows and slowly circled it. I ignored him and walked to pick up my pack of smokes. I lit one and took a long drag.

Vin shuffled over to me, I could see him looking about the sparse studio. His eyes targeted the large double bed in the far corner.

“You’ve been staying here a lot?” he asked.

“I work late.”

Vin nodded, but I could see the concern in his eyes. I blew out a long cloud of smoke.

I didn’t get why anyone f*cking cared.

“I know you work late, Elpi. It’s nearing one in the morning.”

I ran my hand down my face. Shit, I’d been here all damn day.

I slowly turned my head to look at Vin. “Nearly one a.m.?”

“Yes, it’s twelve forty-five,” he replied in confusion. “I’ve been out at dinner with friends and thought I’d drop by. I just knew you’d be awake. I have to go back to New York in the morning, so wanted to say a quick goodbye. My work will keep me away until nearer the opening of your show.”

Stubbing out my smoke, I reached for my black shirt which was pitted in marble dust and clay and slid on my black boots. “Okay. Bye.”

“Where are you going in such a rush?” Vin asked as I reached for my wallet and keys for the El Camino.

“The gallery.”

“Ah. You’re still going every night,” Vin mused, and I stopped dead.

“You know I’ve been going?”

He nodded. “I signed you up as a night visitor before you even arrived. I knew you couldn’t resist. It’s a good thing. It tells me you’re not as indifferent to this exhibition as you try to make out.”

I kept my silence, feeling like a f*cking douche. Yeah, I gave a shit.

“And you’re going now to check on its progress?”

I stared at Vin and knew the old bastard wouldn’t stop pushing me until I spoke. “I’m gonna go give titles to my pieces.”