Yeah, can you say eww?
“What’s it like, having a twin?”
Surprisingly, no one has asked me that question before, and it’s a pleasant change.
“Growing up it was good. We didn’t really know who we were back then, so it was all a giant learning curve. We could trick our mother, but never Beckham. He was the only one we could never fool with our antics…” I pause, smiling. “When we reached sixteen… that was when we realized we’re nothing alike. Not even down to our favorite colors. And especially not our taste in men. But we always stuck together. She’s literally the only person I know I would tell if I killed someone, and her first response would be, ‘So, what do we do with the body?’” I sigh.
“Must be nice to have someone like that to confide in,” he says, pulling into his driveway.
“I’d help you hide a body, August. That is… if we were friends.” I wink at him, getting out of the truck.
I hear his laughter as we both stroll around to the back of the truck. He starts to unload, and I grab the smaller pieces that I can carry and leave all the larger ones for him. We don’t talk as we work, but I can feel his eyes on me. Just as we’re finishing, Noah pulls up with my sister in tow. She slides out of the car and heads straight over and throws her arm through mine.
“You’re dirty. And not in a good way either.”
“Girls, we can hear you,” Noah says, smiling widely at Rhianna.
“Hush you.” She turns back to me. “Dinner tonight? If you don’t have any other plans, that is?”
August, who has his shirt off, is wiping his face with it.
“I mean, I would give me a pass if I was looking at that,” Rhianna states.
“Can still hear you,” Noah reminds her.
August’s eyes find mine and quickly shift away as he goes back to emptying the truck.
“Sure, I’ll see you then.”
She and Noah take off, leaving me alone again with August. I follow him out the back of his home to the shed where all the wood is piled, and watch as he opens the big double doors. Inside are tools hanging on the wall, which I have no idea what they’re for, and a large bench running down the middle. “You make all your things here?” I question, stepping in through the doors. Down at the very end of the garage is a large table that holds a few of his works in progress. I run my hand over the smooth wood and turn back to him.
“Woodworking was the only class I enjoyed,” he tells me, referring back to his high school days. “Then, in prison, it was the same. It kept me occupied and helped to pass the time.” He shrugs. “I like to make things with my hands.”
“Will you make me something?” I ask. “I’ll pay you, of course.”
“What could you possibly need?”
“Surprise me,” I reply.
August wipes his hands on the shirt, which he tucked into the top of his jeans and is now hanging down the side of his leg. He starts to head back to the house. “Come on, I’m starving.”
I follow him inside and to the kitchen, where he starts pulling out food from the refrigerator and then pours himself a glass of milk. When he offers me a glass, I shake my head, scrunching up my nose.
Milk on its own is disgusting.
How he can drink it like that? I have no idea.
A knock on the door is heard, and he places the glass down, stepping off to answer it. I can’t see who it is, but I can definitely hear them.
“August, look… I know you did the right thing…” The visitor pauses. “She’s been asking to see you.” I step into view so whoever it is knows I’m here. Officer Glenn is standing at the front door with Paige by his side. He scrunches his eyes in confusion as he checks between us.
“Miss Harley,” he says, nodding to me.
“Hi, Glenn, Paige, good to see you both.”
“Am I interrupting anything?” Glenn asks.
“No, Rylee was helping me carry the wood out back.”
Glenn nods. “Okay, well, anyway… like I said, Paige has been asking for you. I figure she’s in safe hands here.”
August nods and steps aside, letting Paige in. She marches past me at speed and straight to the kitchen.
“Don’t let her go anywhere, and thank you again for last time.”
August nods before Glenn gives me one last glance as he leaves. When he shuts the door, August turns to me.
“Should I go?” I ask.
“No. Stay,” he says, and I can’t fight the smile that touches my lips as he returns to the kitchen. August goes straight back to cooking while I sit next to Paige on the two stools he has at his kitchen counter.