Only a few miles from the warehouse, rain began to patter on the windshield, the fat drops getting harder and harder the closer we got. Parking up at the warehouse, I reached into the glove compartment of the Jeep and pulled out the key.
Elsie watched my every move, but she didn’t ask any questions. She trusted me. Hearing the rumbling of thunder building in the distance, I ducked out of the Jeep, running round the hood to open Elsie’s door. The rain was coming harder now. Not wanting Elsie to get wet as she was still feeling a little sick, I rushed us into the warehouse, quickly unlocking the door and pushing us inside. The large warehouse was cold and dark. I felt Elsie’s hand grip onto the back of my jacket and instantly remembered that she hated the dark.
I slipped my hand into my pocket and pulled out my cell. I pressed the flashlight icon and held it out in front of us until we reached the light switch. As soon as the main lights came on, I heard Elsie exhale in relief, quickly followed by a short sharp gasp. Elsie released her hand on my back, and as I stayed still, she moved round me.
Stopping beside me, I watched as Elsie eyes drank in the vast room. The room was filled with a myriad of covered statues, but of course, she didn’t know what was underneath.
Elsie’s blond eyebrows pulled down, and when she looked up at me, she asked, “What is this place?” Any trepidation I felt at revealing the statue disappeared, hearing Elsie growing bold to speak without being asked. Like she was reading my mind, she ducked her head and quietly said, “You don’t make me afraid.”
These words lit something inside me. I spun to stand in front of her, cupping her pretty face, and brought her to my lips. This time the kiss was longer, our lips joined closer. This place, what I was about to show her—a secret I kept to myself—and the heaviness that came with its link to my past, made me need her that much more. Elsie sighed against my mouth as my hand ran slowly to the back of her head.
Breaking away, I sucked in a sharp breath. Elsie’s eyes were closed tight like she didn’t want the moment to be over. I drank in her face; the smooth skin, her full pink lips. Momentarily, I felt stunned.
“I’m not scared… to speak to you,” Elsie whispered, then fluttered her eyes to stare straight into mine.
“Good,” I rasped, and forced myself to step back.
I turned, inhaling through my nose. I stayed that way for a damn minute, working on calming down. When I’d got myself together, I opened my eyes. The statue that had become my beacon was directly in my sights. As I stepped forward, a crash of thunder echoed above and my heart jumped.
Fitting, I thought, that a storm rolls in as we come here.
Showing Elsie who I had lost. Showing her the reason my life flipped on its head and corkscrewed into a tailspin, leaving a hole permanently in my heart.
Suddenly feeling a small hand take my own, I glanced down to see Elsie looking up at me. “What is this place?”
I squeezed her hand and led her forward, clearing the emotion from my throat first. “I don’t know what Lexi might have told you about my family, about what my brothers do.”
“Football,” Elsie replied, as we came to a halt in front of the tallest covered piece.
Turning to face Elsie, I nodded my head. “I play football at college, and of course Austin plays football for the ‘Hawks’.” I breathed deep, and added, “But I have an older brother too, Axel, and he, well, he’s a sculptor.” Elsie’s head moved scanning the large space, her eyes becoming unnaturally wide.
“All of these?” she asked, pointing her hand at the many statues. Now she was speaking more, I could hear a slightly different tone to her voice that I hadn’t caught before. My heart broke when I thought of how embarrassed she felt about it. Now that I was hearing it more, I could hear it. It was noticeable. I could hear the slight inflection that had set her apart. But I believed it was nothing but endearing. This little blonde, my girl, had survived the streets, being deaf, and Christ knows what else.
But she’d survived.
Like I’d survived.
Elsie stepped back and she turned to walk amongst the white sheets. She looked like she was lost in a dream, her small frame threading its way amongst the towering marble sculptures.
When she came back to me, she asked, “Your brother, he created what is under all of these?”
I nodded my head and moved to the sculpture of the Heighter’s Stidda—the gang sign, a Sicilian star—piercing a heart. With Elsie watching on, I pulled back the sheet, the impressive marble coming into view.
Elsie stepped closer, her head bending down to study the sculpture. I knew she wouldn’t understand this piece, how could she? How the hell could she know what our lives had been before? The crap that I was dragged into… the things that I’d done. The gang I’d been fully immersed in.