He doesn't answer.Just crosses the room in three strides, jerks his thumb toward a door to the left.“Let me show you the bathroom.”
For a second, I wonder why he’s even bothering.It's tiny—barely room for a toilet, sink, and a shower stall that's more rust than porcelain.He yanks the shower curtain aside and cranks the water on full blast.Steam immediately starts to rise, filling the cramped space with heat and noise.
He turns on me, eyes hard."They’re listening.So before I put my life on the line for this insane idea, we play a round of rapid fire."
“I’m ready.”
"Where'd we meet?"
I cross my arms."Biloxi.Six years ago.Poker game at the Hard Rock.You were losing badly, and I took pity on you."
"What's my bad habit you always complain about?"
"You leave your boots wherever you take them off.I've tripped over them approximately four thousand times."
"What do I call you?"
I roll my eyes."Tiger."
"And you call me?"
I manage a smirk."Ghost.Because you disappear whenever things get real."
His jaw tightens.Good.He pulls a nickname out of thin air, so can I.
Lightning flashes outside, bright enough to spill through the crack under the door.Thunder follows, rolling and low.
He steps closer.The shower roars between us, but I can still hear the edge in his voice."What's the one thing you'd never forgive me for?"
"Walking away without a word.Again."
His eyes narrow."What's your specialty?"
"You already know."
"Say it anyway."
"Forgery.Documents.Signatures.Prescriptions.Medical credentials.Whatever needs to look real enough that no one asks questions."
"How'd you get into it?"
"Art school dropout."I don't blink."Hated the rules.Loved the precision.Started with restorations—antiques, paintings.The client asked me to enhance a certificate.Paid well.Realized I was better at faking things than creating them."
"Who taught you?"
"No one taught me.I taught myself.Late nights, good eyes, steady hands."
He leans in, close enough that I can see the rain still clinging to his jaw."How many jobs before someone noticed you were that good?"
I show him three fingers."After that, word spread."
"What kind of people?"
"The kind who don't ask twice."
Another crack of lightning.Closer this time.The lights flicker.
“And why are you here?”
