April

PRESENT

“Shit, Dean. Shit. Shit. Shit!” I’m pacing the apartment, and Dean is typing something on his laptop. He’s in a plain white T-shirt that makes his black skin look even darker. I’m not used to seeing him with a shaved head, but that’s the first thing he did this morning. A fresh look—that’s what he called it.

I start picking out the pins in my hair and yanking the long red wig off my head. “He saw me. He knew who I was. I should’ve stayed in L.A.”

“Of course he did,” Dean says without looking at me. “Told you to put colored contacts in, but you didn’t listen.”

“You know I can’t see shit with contacts.”

“And you know that not a lot of people have eyes that shade of blue. Might as well have a tattoo on your face, honey. It’s an identifier.”

“I didn’t think I’d see him again. Not so soon, at least.”

“I kept you in L.A. as long as I could, but you knew the case would lead back here. Well, look at the bright side—the case is wrapped up. Trial is on Monday, and this shit will be officially over. Hang in there for a few more days.”

“Matt’s never going to forgive me.”

“He will.”

“He won’t, Dean. He hired a PI, for chrissake.”

“Doesn’t matter. He will,” Dean says, shutting down the laptop. “And if he doesn’t, it’s his loss.”

I slump down on the shitty full-size bed in the shitty apartment in the shitty building I’ve been living in since coming back to Miami three weeks ago. “I need to pack.”

“Yep,” he agrees, pulling off his T-shirt and throwing it aside. He walks to the bathroom, and I can hear him getting ready for bed. With a deep breath I haul my ass up from the bed, grab my suitcase, and start throwing all my clothes inside. This hell is almost over, thank God. By the time Dean comes back into the room, I’m nearly done, since I don’t have many personal belongings in the apartment, and whatever I don’t pack I’ll just leave.

Dean pulls downs the covers and slides into bed. “I cannot fucking wait to talk to Lori.”

“Few days, right?”

“Few more days,” he echoes.

I crawl into bed next to him, turn my back, and say over my shoulder, “G’night, Dean.”

“G’night, honey.”

A few days later, crews from every local television station and a few national ones are parked outside the Miami courthouse waiting for a statement. I’m not the one giving the statement, but I’m standing right next to Captain Rainier as he answers questions. Dean is on his other side. I’m not really listening to the words—I’m just rejoicing that everyone’s been arrested and is now safely behind bars awaiting trial. Thanks in part to my confidential informant, Rangel Morris and seven lower-ranking thugs are now behind bars, hopefully permanently. Their charges range from attempted murder to racketeering, human trafficking, and drug trafficking. It was all worth it to see these scumbags rot in jail. The raid at Panic, which was already a big win, had led to an even bigger case in L.A., all interconnected.

“…none of this would be possible without Detective April White and Detective Dean Scott. Their sacrifice is the reason the city of Miami will sleep safer tonight….”

My mind drifts again as cameras click all around me and Captain Rainier continues talking and answering questions. To say that the last year has been rough is an understatement. Actually, the last eighteen months have been shitty; living a double and sometimes triple life among the dregs of society has been hell on me. Other than capturing the gang of criminals, Dean has been the only silver lining. He’s become more than a friend—he’s family now. I guess being forced to pretend we’re a couple for the better part of a year will bring two people together. And, of course, there’s Matt. But that’s a bittersweet thought. He’s the worst and best thing that’s ever happened to me. The lies I had to tell him, the way he was always so honest…I never expected to fall in love while on the job. But that’s exactly what happened.

Glancing over at Dean, I see his thumb tapping his thigh, a telltale sign that he’s anxious, and I know it’s because he’s dying to meet up with Lori, his girlfriend. Spending a year and a half apart has been rough on their relationship, but I know they’ll find their way. They’ve talked on the phone almost daily, since seeing her would’ve been too risky.

I, on the other hand, have no one waiting for me. No one to argue with, no one who misses me, no one who’ll be happy to hear that I’m finished with the assignment and ready to get on with my life.

Matt’s surely moved on. For the last year the poor man didn’t even know if I was alive. But seeing him on Lincoln Road…all the feelings I had stored deep in a locked box came rushing back in. The hardest thing I’ve ever had to do, by far, was walk away from Matt. Lying to him was a close second. But for his safety, I had no other choice.

After the press conference, I head to the hotel I’m staying at until I sort out my housing situation. When I agreed to this assignment—an assignment that was supposed to last only a few months—instead of signing a new lease on my apartment and having to leave the place vacant, I put all my things in storage.

Feeling as though the world has moved on while I’m stuck in the same place, I sit in the massive tub in my hotel room with a glass of wine, trying to hold back the depressing feeling that has gathered in my gut.

The night I met Matt is always on constant loop in my mind. I drain the wineglass and then take a swig directly from the bottle, my head resting on the back of the tub as the water starts to get cold.

“That was Matt Moreno,” Dean announces as we round the corner and Panic disappears from view.

“Yeah, I know.”

“I know you know,” Noah says with a chuckle. Noah is only here for a few days to help us set up the bugs and surveillance. “Did you pay attention to anything he said, or were you just drooling? ‘You are a breath of fresh air,’ ” he says, mocking Matt, and it annoys me that they heard all of that.

“Wasn’t I supposed to play the role of a sex bomb, or siren, or whatever the hell it is you guys said I needed to do?”

“Damn, I didn’t realize you were such a great actress,” Dean goads me, also laughing. “So much so, you had everyone fooled. Me, Noah, Matt…shit, I think you’re so good you had yourself fooled.” He reaches up and pretends to wipe drool from my chin. I swat his hand away.

“Shut up.” I roll my eyes as I continue to walk to our car.

“I think you should play up the flirtation,” Dean says. “Let me rephrase. You need to snap out of it and flirt back, not just stare at him like a lovesick puppy.”

“What? We’ve been planning this for months. How about Victor?”

“Victor’s older. Tougher. This guy, his son, is thinking with his dick. Might be easier. I don’t know why we didn’t think of that before,” Noah muses. “You wanted a big case? Well, here you are. Forget the dad—let’s use the son. You’ve already snagged him, so you might as well reel him in.”

“We saw what you call flirting tonight,” Dean adds with a grin. “Victor will eat you alive. But maybe Matt will buy it.”

I reach into my cleavage and tap the mic hard, causing the men to flinch from the feedback squealing into their earpieces. They both yelp.

“I can flirt,” I retort, slapping the small mic into Noah’s palm. “Did you get what you needed?” I say, changing the subject as I hop into the van.

Suddenly they are all business, which is exactly what I want. “There’s a shit ton of security on the second floor, which is where the offices are. I can’t get in without a fingerprint scan,” Dean says, looking at me from the driver’s seat. “Let’s work on that flirting and then get you to the second floor. I need access to the upstairs to plant some more eyes and ears.”

I roll my eyes and buckle up. I’ve always wanted to be a cop like my father, and being assigned to undercover was a huge promotion. This particular job is important and exciting, and being out in the field gets my blood pumping. It has absolutely nothing to do with the green eyes and dimples that will likely haunt my dreams tonight.

I stumble out of the tub and I see my reflection in the mirror. I look terrible. Tomorrow I’m going to get my hair cut and dyed back to blond, my natural color. It’s time April came back to life and June, Zara, and all my other aliases be put to rest.

And Matt?

At some point soon I need to confront that problem. I probably should just disappear (again) and let him move on, meet someone else (if he hasn’t already), but I don’t know if I can.

Would he understand why I lied? Why I had to leave? But most important, would he ever forgive me?