Without another word, he walks toward one of the three-story apartments. The guy unnerves me with how quiet he is, but at least he doesn’t run his mouth like Rico. And Damien can actually throw a decent punch. I’ve been in the ring with him a couple of times and became intimately aware of how good it feels to have my nose broken by his fist.
Bella sidesteps the trash and random shit on the stairs as we climb up the three-story building. Laundry hangs over balconies, and people sit on plastic chairs next to their open doors, smoking and having their morning beer.
On the third floor, Damien removes his glasses and leads us down the walkway to the second apartment from the very end, which happens to be the only apartment with a camera in front of its door. Whoever owns it painted the camera the same color as the walls, but it's hard to miss when a single, black, beady eye is staring right at you.
I tug Bella behind me to get her out of view. Damien tracks our movements but, as expected, he doesn’t say a thing.
Before his knuckles hit the door, it swings open, and I instinctively reach for my gun.
“You’re late,” the little thing behind the door snarls, hands on her hips, teeth bared, looking more murderous than I feel.
She’s a five-foot-something package of loathing, with bleached white streaks at the front of her hair, glaring daggers at Damien. Bella’s pretty tall for a girl—small compared to me—but Damien’s contact must come to Bella’s chin. Hell, she looks about our age, too.
Her freakishly blue eyes snap to me, and her scowl deepens. The fuck is her problem?
“Come in,” the aspiring demon snaps. “I’ve got better shit to do than wait around for you two assholes.” She narrows her eyes at my girl, who’s stepped out from behind me. Her scowl drops, and she dips her chin at Bella. “The name’s Connie.”
Oh. So the Oreo-haired girl knows how to play nice, after all?
My princess gulps. “Isa.”
Connie steps back to let us in, sneering extra hard at Damien as he passes. His only reaction is a dismissive glance her way.
The door locks behind us, causing Bella to jump and huddle closer to my side. The mouse is eyeing Damien and the dark room, where the only light comes from the locked computer monitors. Connie pushes a button, and a photography setup in the corner of the living space comes to life.
Connie crosses her arms and stares me down while Bella shifts her weight. “So what do you need?”
“IDs.” I almost jump when Damien answers for me. Since when the hell does this guy speak voluntarily?
She whips her head to him. “I wasn’t fucking asking you, now was I, Reyes?”
His eye twitches, but he doesn’t say a word.
“Passports, driver’s licenses, and birth certificates. For the both of us,” I say, because fuck that guy for talking for me. I was planning on just a driver’s license, because decent fake shit is expensive, but the guys from yesterday made me realize that we need some extra precautions.
“What grade?” Connie’s expression is all business.
“The best.”
“Can you pay?”
I pull out a fat wad of cash from my pocket.
She nods, studying the stack like she’s trying to count how many bills I hold. A lot, that’s how much I’m handing over. Inflation hurts criminals, too.
Which also means I have to make up the money somehow.
Connie unlocks her computer, and one of her five monitors lights up. “Name?”
“Michael Key.” I grin at Bella, waiting for her to get the joke.
Connie types the name and raises a brow at Bella.
She gives me an are you kidding me? look. “Um.” Pigtails bites her lip and looks around like she’s trying to find inspiration. “Alice.” In Wonderland—one of her favorite movies. “Uh, Benson?”
“Key,” I correct.
Connie jerks her head from the computer. “What? Are you siblings or something?”
I glower, and Damien shifts forward. “Put her down as my wife.”
Bella scrunches her nose. “What?”
Connie glances from Bella to me, then back to Bella. “So you’ll need a marriage certificate and a name change certificate as well?”
“No.” What we’re already getting is expensive enough.
Connie shrugs. “Figured if you’re starting fresh with a good product, you’ll need a solid cover.”
Little shit has a point.
“Fine, Alice Benson,” I say.
“Alice Olivia Benson,” Bella says.
So that’s where she got the last name. “You are not naming yourself after a character from Law & Order.”
Pigtails frowns and crosses her arms, feeling emboldened by the glare Connie is giving me. “Why not?”
Christ, the attitude on this girl.
“Don’t you support her on this.” I point at Connie and direct my attention back to Bella. “If you’re trying to have a convincing cover, you don’t name yourself after a TV show.”
She narrows her eyes at me and looks at Connie as she confidently says, “Alice Rosa Benson.” Then she mutters, “Rosa Diaz is just as cool.”
This woman. I shake my head internally.
The silence that follows grates as Bella and I take turns standing in front of the camera. Damien never once takes his eyes off Connie as she moves around the apartment, checking photos and writing the names and ages we want.
I tap my leg as we wait for Connie to do whatever it is that she needs to do when she finally says, “Give me two days. I’m low on ink.”
I don’t fucking think so. “I came here because I was told I’d get quick results. Either we get the IDs today, or we’re walking out that door.”
Connie steps forward, and I don’t miss the way Damien stiffens. “Then leave. By all means, run along and find someone else. Then, you can cry your little baby tears when you get pulled over and a cop sees right through the ID, and then your Bonnie and Clyde gig is over. You asked for the best; I am the best.” The mismatching ball of crazy pokes me in the chest. “You don’t come to my place and talk to me like that. So you can either shut up and wait two days, or you can get the fuck off my property.”
“We’ll wait,” Bella says, surprising us all.
Connie softens a bit and nods. “Good choice.” Turning her back on us, she starts doing something at a bench. “Drop the money on my desk and close the door on your way out.”
My heart sinks as I slam the cash on the table. My pockets feel lonely already. Then both Bella and Damien glare at me as if I just kicked a child. Why the hell am I being picked on right now?
“Don’t piss off the lady making our illegal documents,” Bella hisses as we walk out the door. “I’m not.” Excuse me. When did she get confident calling out my shit in front of other people anyway?
She scoffs and storms ahead. What is going on?
“Women,” Damien mutters from behind me.
I turn to catch him shaking his head as we walk down the stairs. Right, well, whatever, back to business. “I need another gig. What have you got? It looks like I’ll be in Chicago for two more days.” It physically hurts me to drop a couple of grand on fakes.
Damien is part of the reason I could afford to do the house up and still have money for everything else. I wouldn’t say I owe him anything, but he hasn’t done me wrong in the five years I’ve known him.