“It’s not a great one, I’ll just start there. And it kind of ties into why I’m here. Then again, don’t our parents tie into the reason why we’re all here?” Doc shrugged and gave a sad little giggle. “It started with my dad—my inspiration and my everything, really. I wanted to be just like him. And he was so proud of me, knowing that I wanted to follow in his footsteps, becoming a renowned surgeon rolling in money and respect. Like father, like child.
“You can imagine how upset he became when I told him I was trans. It was as if I came home and told him I’d killed ten people at the supermarket. Like the world was ending. Like it was the hardest thing he could ever have to endure, never once thinking about how hard it was for me. How badly I needed him to hold me and hug me and say he’ll love me no matter what. That’s the proper response, and nothing else will ever suffice.”
“Oh, Doc, fuck. I’m so sorry.” Wyatt’s heart immediately felt a thousand pounds heavier. His coming-out story wasn’t anything like Doc’s; his parents had followed the exact script she wished her dad had.
“Yeah. I was nineteen at this point, so I left home. Found a group of people that would take me in and found happiness within that. Except, I knew there was more to my journey before I considered it complete. I knew I wanted gender reassignment surgery but also knew I had no way to pay for it. I saved up the little I got from my two jobs, but it didn’t cut it. So I got what I saved and went to gamble it: first on blackjack, then I tried craps and then fell into poker. In a few nights, I had done it, and I was on an all-new high.” Doc softly dropped her head back against the wall behind the couch they were sitting on. “That’s when the rest of my problems started. I started to lose, and I kept losing, and losing and losing. And I tried taking out a loan from a sketchy source, lost that. Went to another, lost that. You get the picture. I owe some really bad people a whole lot of money.”
“That’s okay, Doc. That’s why we’re working this job, so that all our lives can change. I’ve got your back. We all do.”
She smiled, and Wyatt was surprised to see a few tears slip from her brown eyes.
“Thank you, Salt. You’re a good guy. A really good one. I’m glad Roman has you.”
The weight on his heart lifted slightly, replaced by the warmth that radiated off Doc’s smile. She gave Wyatt a friendly shoulder bump before taking another strawberry.
“Seriously, though, your mom is missing out.”
Wyatt was about to correct the tense, something he’d sadly gotten used to since their passing, but was stopped by a slight commotion at the front of the room.
It was Roman and Bang Bang, working to set up the projector and dimming the lights. Time for their rundown on tomorrow’s last leg. There’d be plenty of time after to have some more heart-to-hearts with his new bestie.
“Alright, everyone settled in?” Roman asked, looking around at the assembled six. He stood in front of the group, wearing a fitted navy T-shirt and a pair of gray gym shorts that did a terrible job of hiding his VPL (which Wyatt was quite grateful for). He pulled his gaze up from the mouthwatering outline and focused on what Roman had to say next.
“This is it, ladies and gents. We’re in the home stretch. The job is almost finished, and all that’ll be left is us riding off into the sunset together. We just have to grab the tome, and we’re set.” He dimmed the lights and turned on the projector, the wall filling with a photo of the Broad, a museum in Los Angeles made to look like a building in motion and lovingly called the Cheese Grater by local Angelinos. “Our target is in this building, set for a months-long exhibition on famous literature throughout the years. Unfortunately, because of the last failed attempt at grabbing the book, the museum has upped security, making things slightly more complicated this time around.”
“What did they implement for security?” Mimic asked, a small black notebook in her hand and the end of her pen between her teeth.
“There’s two armed guards by the entrance to the exhibit at all times, along with a swarm of cameras and alarms surrounding the tome. When the museum closes at night, the tome is moved into a secure vault that would be even harder to get through. I doubt the museum managers even understand why all the security, but it doesn’t matter. It’s something we have to deal with.”