Chapter 2
I tossed another shirt into a box without folding it. The first few boxes, I’d carefully packed each item, being mindful of what was breakable and what wasn’t. Then I dropped a decorative vase and the sound of breaking glass was my undoing. I was putting my entire life into a bunch of boxes, like the me packing them would be the same person coming back for them. But that just wasn’t the case. Detective Kaitlyn McGrady—decorated cop, straight-A student? She folded her socks, color-coded her closet. Bites her tongue and keeps her head down.
But Nicole Moore? She’s a no-nonsense, barely finished high school, hot mess in beat-up sneakers. I had no idea who I was going to be after all of this.
Or when I would be coming home.
I sighed, my eyes wandering around the bare apartment before landing on the shelf by my door and the singular photo I had left out. Me and Shelly, arms around each other and laughing in matching ugly Christmas sweaters at a precinct office party. I wanted so badly to pack it. But that would be super-hard to explain to anyone I met on this op.Who is that in the picture? Oh, yeah. That’s my twin, she’s a cop. Not suspicious at all, right? I sighed again and carefully tucked it in a box with Shelly’s address written on the outside.
My badge hung around my neck, and I pulled it out from under my shirt. For a moment, I stood in the quiet apartment, running my hand over the familiar numbers. Then I tossed it in the box next to the picture. I dialed Shelly’s number from memory, but it went to voicemail. I wasn’t really sure what to say. Obviously she couldn’t know everything, so I kept it short and sweet.
“I’m sending you some of my favorite things to keep hold ofuntil I get back. I can’t tell you where I’m going, but I’m okay. I’ll be home as soon as I can. Try not to raise too much cane while I’m gone. Love you, girl. Be safe.”
I tucked the box under one arm, and shut the door as I left. I didn’t bother to lock it—there was nothing in there to take. My mind went back to the past couple of months as I recalled every bit of my training. I’d learned a lot, but becoming Nicky had been complicated.
I made my way to the empty warehouse where we’d set up shop after dropping my box for Shelly off with the doorman, who promised to see it off. I was on autopilot, remembering each detail.
Two months prior
It was day three of my training, and I had just started to realize how big this whole thing was. I knelt in front of a simple wooden door held upright by a couple of 2x4s. Braxton thought that something as simple as picking a lock would help me throw away my “good cop” persona and become more like Nicole. I zeroed in on the surprisingly delicate mechanism, more used to kicking in doors than breaking into them.
“Try again.” Braxton stood next to me, arms crossed, as I fumbled with the lockpick set. Bridges was on my other side. His tall, lanky form leaned up against a fake door, and he watched as I tried to unlock the door. I was trying to follow his instructions. He had picked a lock like it was nothing. It should be simple, but it wasn’t.
“I’m not MacGyver,” I muttered, anger and frustration creeping into my voice.
Braxton didn’t flinch. “Nope. You’re Nicky Moore. She’s been doing this stuff since grade school. And she doesn’t make excuses.”
Bridges glanced between me and Braxton. “Just take your time, do exactly what I showed you.”
I wanted to askhim exactly what else I would be doing, but I bit my tongue. Finally, I heard the most beautiful sound.Click. The door swung open. I straightened up and wiped thin beads of sweat from my temple with the back of my hand, grinning a little at the small victory. The three of us headed across the dimly lit warehouse, and I played with my newly dyed hair. The red was growing on me, much more vibrant than my natural auburn.
Feeling eyes on me, I glanced over at Braxton.
“You’re a quick learner. The first week is never easy,” he admitted, before stopping abruptly and turning to me. “Now lose the cop walk.”
“The what?”
“Shoulders too straight. Chin up. Calculated steps. You scream law enforcement. You need to move like someone who owns the room. Not like someone who’s afraid of getting written up.”
I spent the next three hours relearning how to walk. First my sashay was too exaggerated, then it was too understated.Use your hips.Relax your shoulders.Soften your knees. Who knew walking was so freaking hard? And all the little things that made me who I was? They had to go, too. We walked through every aspect of Nicky’s life until I knew her better than I knew myself, playing out every scenario we could think of. Justice was absolutely delighted when he found out I already knew how to ride a motorcycle from a rebellious phase in college. Secretly, I immediately loved the black and blue Triumph he presented me with—something they’d confiscated from a raid.
After month one, I wanted to scream when their general consensus was that I wasn’t ready. I had been busting ass. Of course, the loudest voice advocating for more training was Williams. Katie would’ve ignored her, so I blamed my new identity when I finally got fed up with her sour ass and decked her. Braxton and Justice hadpulled us apart, while Bridges laughed. Her nose was busted, and I felt immensely pleased with the red mark on her cheek that would surely bruise. Detective McGrady would never—but I was getting comfortable with certain aspects of Nicole Moore. Her devil-may-care attitude, for one.
Still, I decided to buckle down and make the most of the last month. Every now and then, I would find myself wondering about Shelly or Lieutenant Hartwell. I knew that I had to stop thinking like that, but you wouldn’t believe how hard it is to just completely erase yourself.
During the final week, Braxton told me their plan for me to integrate myself. There was a biker bar just outside of Atlanta that the Steel Saints frequented. They figured, one way or another, I could catch their attention there. When I kept pushing for exact information, exact instructions, Braxton stopped me.
“Improvise, Katie. Undercover work is ninety percent improv. Your ability to do so will make or break the operation.”
That entire week, we fine-tuned Nicky’s personality. They took me to a local bar, and took turns critiquing me the next morning. Williams was no longer a part of the case, which was just fine with me. But Braxton, Bridges, and Justice each had a long freaking list of things I needed to work on.
“You hesitated when ordering your drink. Nicole doesn’t hesitate. She’s in your face, demanding, and knows what she wants.”
“But she’s also charismatic and charming. Get your drink, charm the bartender, find your in.”
“And remember, Katie avoids conflict. She avoids drama. She’s a cop, gotta keep her head on straight. Follows the book. Nicky burned the book.”
I nodded, feeling kind of lightheaded. I knew that in two days, I would be in Georgia. I had been sleeping in a back roomin the warehouse, and after the three of them left, I would be on my own. Braxton had given me the last day to myself—which wasn’t much use since I couldn’t exactly go out as Nicky, and Katie no longer existed.
