Sweet Hope (Sweet Home 3)

“Axel, that’s not right—”

Raising his hands to the metal shelves, he hit his hand against the top one and snapped, “And I don’t need you to fucking defend me!”

My eyes widened and any anger I was holding dissipated, only sorrow creeping in as his words took over. “I couldn’t take it. You’re not the man they see! They’re so wrong about you!”

Axel laughed in my face, but it was a dark mocking laugh. He shook his head, looking at me like I was stupid. “They’re not wrong!” he bellowed. “They’re fucking right! I am the man they think I am! I’ve been that man for so long I don’t know how to be anyone else. You just don’t let yourself see the real me! You’re blinded by all this art, Elpidio shit!” he rushed forward and cupped my face in his hands. “Wake the fuck up, Ally! I’m Axel Carillo. I’m bad, I’m no good for you… Jesus Christ! I’m a motherfucking coke dealer! You keep trying to make out I’m this great guy, looking up at me with those big ol’ doe eyes like I’m your sun, but I’m the damn opposite! I’m midnight! I’m a fucking eclipse that steals the light! I’ve done it to everyone in my sorry piece of shit life! Look at Austin! Levi! My mamm—”

Axel’s voice cut off, breaking with emotion as he tried to utter his mother’s name. He paled; even saying her name irreparably crushed him.

He cared…

“You’re more than that,” I argued, gripping his arm and pulling him round to face me. “Don’t you dare pull this shit on me, Axel. Not me.” I took in a shuddering breath as he watched me with an unmoving tough expression chiseled on his rugged face. “Don’t you dare do this. The man I’m with is a good man.”

His hands gripped his long hair. “You have no fucking idea. You like the idea that I’m this reformed bad boy turned sculptor you’ve given your heart to. The truth is, there’s no reformation for me, Ally. I just cover the evil inside me real well. When I went to jail, I had to learn to deal with prison life real damn quick. I had to learn to rein in the anger or risk being killed. I had to pretend to be a good guy so I could get the fuck out alive… you have no idea what it was like…”

“Shut up,” I snapped. Axel’s muscles began twitching at how tightly he was tensing in response to my attitude.

“What the fuck did you just say?” he questioned through gritted teeth.

Unafraid, I met his feet, looked him right in the eyes and said, “I said shut up.”

Axel Carillo stood there, his pumped up body radiating waves of pure menace, but he didn’t scare me. This was what he did. He intimidated. He evoked fear. He chased people away. But deep down, he was a frightened little boy who didn’t know anything else to do in life but fight; fight to protect his family and those he loved, fight against a society which had forgotten about him, which had brushed him aside since birth.

“You need to back the fuck off, Aliyana. Right now. I’m warning you,” he said, threateningly. Slowly, I shook my head, pushing my nerves down deep so they wouldn’t show. Axel’s nostrils flared. I knew I had him where I needed him to be. He had no idea what to do with me right now, no idea what do now I was standing up to his typically successful bulling ways. Because I knew him. There was no way in hell he would hurt me… I could see it in his eyes… I could feel it with every beat of my heart.

“I won’t back off. I won’t let you do this,” I pushed harder.

His eyes narrowed, small lines appearing on the edges of his lash lines.

“Let me ask you something. And this time, actually give me an answer,” I demanded. Axel watched me like a hunter watches his prey, but I didn’t let myself falter. “Why did you start dealing drugs for the Heighters? Not why you joined the gang, I know that, but why you started dealing coke when you were older?”

In this quiet room, I heard his teeth grinding together. I could see his pulse throbbing on his neck. I knew this is what he needed. He needed to see for himself that he wasn’t inherently evil. Being innately evil and having evil thrust upon you were competently different things.

“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.