“Answer me,” I snapped.
Clenching his fists, he hissed, “Because I was crew, and that's what we did to protect our turf. The best of us sold the coke, the rest of us looked out for cops, for threats from our rivals.”
“Bullshit,” I challenged. Fire lit up his eyes. I prodded his chest. “Tell me the real reason. Why did you deal drugs? Not the gang, you. Why did you recruit Austin and Levi into the crew so young?”
“For money,” he answered icily and a ray of hope burst in my chest. He wasn’t outright lying to me anymore, simply evading the truth.
“Money for what?” I continued.
A flash of pain stabbed across his stony expression. His eyes began to blaze. “Don’t,” he pushed. This time I almost stopped driving this. I could see the pain he didn’t want to face clawing to the surface.
“Why Axel?” I insisted, gripping the material of his shirt in my hands.
He remained silent. I was pretty sure he couldn’t speak.
“Was it to get money for your mamma’s treatment after she was diagnosed with ALS? Was it to get as much money as you could to save her from being in so much pain? Was it so she didn’t have to die in agony? Is that why you needed the money?”
Axel’s mouth parted. He dragged in a ragged breath as a single tear ran down his face, his lips ever so slightly quivering. In sympathy, tears flooded down my cheeks too. Axel didn’t know it, but I saw his mother… I was there, in the room, when she died. I wanted to tell him, but I knew he wasn’t ready for that confession yet.
But I couldn’t stop now. I’d made a small crack in his impenetrable armor; it was about damn time that armor was obliterated.
It was time to let in the light.
“You did,” I said firmly. “You drafted your brothers in to the Heighters because you couldn’t do it on your own. You needed help but you were afraid to ask for it. Had no one to ask, anyhow. You were alone, you were ‘Axel Carillo’, the man the Heighters used for intimidation. The guy all the rival gangs feared above anyone else. So how could you beg someone for help when you were always the guy to show no emotion or remorse? Yes, a part of you wanted Austin and Levi involved because you loved that crew. They were your family. They had your back when no one else did. They would kill for you, no questions asked. They were always there when no one else was. And you wanted that sense of family for Austin and Levi too. Because you love them. You love them more than anyone or anything in this world. They’re all you have left and it was the only way you knew how to keep them close and try and save your mamma at the same time. You thought it would keep y’all together as a family.”
Axel’s heart was slamming against his chest as he stared over my head, unable to meet my gaze. But I knew he was listening, as his hand reached up for mine and gripped my wrists tightly. It was in nothing else but support.
“But you couldn’t save your mamma,” I said in a quieter supportive tone, using my thumb to gently stroke the skin on his hand, “the Heighters were ruining Austin and Levi’s lives. You ran away from the cops back when Porter OD’ed, and unbeknownst to you, left Austin and Lev to deal with your mamma’s final days. But you came back and saved Austin from doing hard time. You came back to save your brothers over the crew who'd been your only real family for so long. Because you did it all for family. Everything you do is for family. You've repeatedly sacrificed your chance at happiness so they can keep theirs.”
I slid my hands around his neck and traced the long scar, the scar from the shanking that nearly killed him. “You endured five years of hell for your brothers. And even though you found your life’s passion within that nightmare, your sculptures cry desperate pleas for forgiveness. Your sculptures are guilt ridden cries of pain… deep sorrow… deep anguish and sadness for things you believe you cannot move on from… or face up to...”
I was referring specifically to the marble angel. It was still the only finished piece he’d never explained to me. But I knew what it was about, that angel. The dual-faced broken and liberated angel was his mamma.
“Ally…” he whispered, his hands shaking as they held me.
Skirting my palm to lay on his cheek, I said, “I know you, Axel Carillo, querido. You’re not the villain in this story, you’re the beautifully flawed hero. You’re the dark hero who has been sacrificing himself all along so others would be safe… and you did it all fully understanding that no one could ever know. But I know, and I don’t care what anyone thinks of me for giving my heart to you.”