Sweet Hope
Page 23“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 fucking 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, fuck, 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 fucking 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 fucking 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 fucking destroyed him, that’s what. Me, the guy who was meant to have protected him, had fucking 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.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.
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 fucking 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.”