Page 42 of The Torment of Two

Two doesn’t say anything as he parks and shuts off the car. He grabs his coffee and backpack before striding away toward the front door. I follow after him, my short legs unable to keep up with him. He’s already inside and gone by the time I reach the landing.

“He said he wants to look in the attic,” Paula says in greeting. “Good morning. You guys are up early today.”

“Just excited,” I tell her and mean it. “Do you think we could have any scrap material we find for our miniature model?”

“Of course. Take whatever you want as long as it’s nothing of value. I trust your judgment.”

I thank her and then hurry to find Two. When I reach the second floor, I find him at the end of the hall, pulling down a ladder from the ceiling. He’s dropped his belongings haphazardly in the middle of the floor. I take a moment to move his stuff to the wall and then add mine. By the time I finish, he’s already disappeared into the attic.

With a sigh, I crawl up the rickety ladder and into the dark, musty space. I sure as hell hope nothing jumps out at me. If I see a mouse, I’ll legit die.

I shudder just thinking about the time Dempsey found a dead mole in the yard and chased me around with it. He shoved it into my shirt. When I finally got it out from under my clothing and gathered the nerve to pick it up, I nailed him square in the nose with it. Made him bleed and everything. He deserved it one hundred percent.

Rodents are not my thing.

A dim light flickers on overhead and I see Two standing hunched over, his tall frame unable to be fully upright without hitting his head on the rafters. The space is littered with boxes, old furniture, and other treasures I’m eager to explore.

“Paula says we can take whatever we want for our project as long as it’s nothing of value. I think we should run everything by her before we actually take it just in case.”

He nods as he scans the boxes. “Where should we start, Golden?”

I dust off a velvet footstool and plop my ass on it. “Maybe catching our breath?”

His gray eyes lock on mine as he studies me. “Climbing a ladder winded you?”

“No, but frantically running since the moment I opened my eyes has.”

He cocks his head to the side. “You’re not wearing makeup. Where are your fake lashes?”

Wincing, I look away. I’d hoped he wouldn’t notice. I rarely go anywhere without makeup. Now I feel exposed and vulnerable.

I don’t say anything, wondering if I’m going to actually break down and cry today. It feels imminent and Two is supercharged today with his antagonization. It’s only a matter of time.

He crouches down in front of me, grabbing my chin with his long, bony fingers. “I like it better. You can see your freckles.”

My belly twists delightfully at his words. Did Two just compliment me? No way. “You should feel proud. Not everyone gets to see the real me. I’m apparently showing you all the goods.”

His thumb strokes along my jaw, sending a shiver down my spine. “Why are you showing me?”

Good question. Why am I letting Two see these parts of me? He’s been a maddening thorn in my side since the day I met him. Of all people, he doesn’t deserve to see past my carefully applied layers both inside and out.

“I don’t know. You just feel safe, I guess.”

He frowns at my words, drops his gaze to my non-glossed lips, and then scrambles away like he just saw a rat. I squeak, darting my head all over, looking for the beast.

“What did you see?” I demand, hugging my middle. “If it was a mouse, tell me. I don’t like them.”

With his back turned to me, he grunts and waves me off. “No mouse. We just need to get to work.”

I stay annoyed for about three seconds until he opens a box with old pictures. Then I grin back at him, eager to see what awaits us.

Paula let us borrow a few pictures, but we have to bring them back. However, she did let us take some of the torn-off wallpaper in the office, some dusty floorboards we found, an entire box full of old clothing, and a bunch of other random stuff. Now, we’re on our way to Two’s to work on our model.

“We should stop by this cool place on Main Street for lunch,” I say, pointing in the general direction. “We need fuel to keep working.”

“Let me guess,” he grumbles almost playfully, “I’m buying.”

“Naturally unless you think they’ll accept the change at the bottom of my purse.”

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