Page 28

The week before Christmas, the Academy hosts a holiday party in the upstairs billiard room. Matthew shows up early for the event, and we stake out the corner table where we played pool so many months ago. We’re racking up balls for our first game when he turns to me.

“I have a question for you.”

“Oh no.” I stand upright. “I’m not playing that game again. We’re shooting pool for bragging rights, not deep dark secrets.”

“It’s not about a deep dark secret,” he replies, amused. “It’s about New Year’s Eve. There’s an annual party at the Jekyll Island Club, one of the biggest of the year. My family always attends.”

“Oh.” I lean on the table and wait.

“I’m allowed to bring a date.”

“Huh.” I go back to racking up the balls, playing nonchalant. “That’s nice.”

“It is. It would be even nicer if you go with me. You can stay overnight at our cottage after the party.”

I freeze. “Spend New Year’s with you?” I’ve never rung in the New Year with anyone but the Royals.

With Paul .

“Yes.” Matthew’s gaze is earnest but piercing. “I already spoke with my parents about it.”

I laugh. “Oh, did you now? ”

“Yes. It will be an overnight together, but so long as I’m on my gentlemanly best behavior, they agreed to let you come.”

“I’m not sure I’m interested then,” I tease.

He smiles. “They won’t be around the whole time, Kat. It’s New Year’s, the club’s biggest party of the season. Plenty of distraction afoot.” He steps closer and slowly slides his hands over my hips. “So what do you reckon?”

This is big. New Year’s together. With Matthew’s family. Overnight.

Paul will kill me.

But a New Year’s Eve party on Jekyll Island…I would die to be there. To be there as an invited guest, not as a thief slinking in the shadows. Always on the outside looking in.

And New Year’s with Matthew? My traitorous heart skips a beat.

“Okay,” I hear myself say.

“Yeah?” His grin stabs with its sincerity.

“Yes, I would love to go with you.”

Wider still, that smile. Bright enough to eclipse any doubt. “Great! We’ll have a guest room aired out for you.”

I bend over to break while Matthew chatters on about logistics. Blood rushes in my ears, muffling my attention as though my head is stuffed with cotton.

New Year’s with Matthew, New Year’s with Matthew…

New Year’s without Paul.

I can scarcely fathom it.

We’re just finishing our first game when Mellie stumbles over with Bobby Marino in tow. From underwater, I hear Matthew suggest something that sounds like “doubles” for the next game. I mechanically begin to rerack, but Mellie latches onto my arm. Her fingernails dig into my skin.

“Kaaat,” she hisses, fluttering anxiously.

“What? ”

She widens her eyes and starts convulsing her neck to the right. Her nails are still embedded in my forearm.

“Mellie, what’s gotten into you?” She’s like a cat on a hot tin roof.

“Kat!” she hisses again and jerks her head, more directly this time. Straight toward the billiard room door.

When I follow her eyes, the floor drops beneath me.

There, silhouetted in the doorway, stands Abe.

“Kat, what is he doing here?” Mellie whispers.

At this point, we’ve attracted the attention of the gentlemen.

“Um,” I breathe, “I’m not sure.”

“Kat?” Matthew’s tone is uncertain.

It’s easy enough for him to follow my gaze.

Abe’s dark skin stands out in the lily-white room, branding him an outsider.

But his chin is high, his three-piece suit immaculate.

Even still, a number of scornful eyes are turned his way.

My heart contracts painfully. The upper lip of my wolf curls, instinctive. Protective.

“Beg pardon.” I shake my head, clearing it. “I must excuse myself. I’ll be right back.” I give Matthew’s cheek a quick, reassuring kiss.

“Kat!” My roommate’s hiss is downright deadly this time.

“Right back.” I look at her. Please, Mellie, I internally beg. Help me out here. Just once. Please.

I cross the room to Abe in seconds and grab him by the arm. I squeeze harder than strictly necessary as I pull him aside.

“What are you doing here?” I demand. My gaze darts, unconsciously, back to Matthew. When I see him staring, I drop Abe’s arm, as though burned.

“Pleasure to see you too, Katarina.” Abe’s nod is formal as he plays the gentleman.

“Don’t toy with me. Paul or Tony had better be in a ditch dying right now. ”

“Not quite,” he admits.

“Then what. Are you. Doing here?” I punctuate the words. “And where in the world did you find this suit?”

“You’re not the only one who can play dress-up, Kat.”

I stare at him. Wait. All too aware of the unforgiving attention of half the room still on us, on the black man daring to talk to a white Academy girl.

Centuries of racial divide run deep in Savannah, webbing their way into the very foundation of society, like the vine-like, underground tunnels of the Catacombs themselves.

The lines may blur in the blue-collar bayou, but not here.

Not in polite Savannah society. By walking into this room tonight, Abe has made himself immensely vulnerable.

“Why would you risk showing up here, Abe?”

Eventually, he sighs. His eyes flick over my shoulder toward Matthew.

“Are you joking?” I’m flabbergasted. “He sent you to spy on me? Here? ”

Abe shrugs. “You know how Paul is, Kat.”

“I think you should go.”

“No, unfortunately, I’m here to stay.” He looks over my shoulder again. “Your friends are giving me the evil eye.”

“Well, let’s see.” I tap my finger against my lip. “Mellie thinks you’re my secret beau from the Catacombs, and Matthew…”

“Also thinks I’m your secret beau. Dilly.” Abe sticks his hands in his pockets, annoyed. “Well, I’m not here for a pissing contest or to start a race riot, so let’s go set the record straight, shall we?” He shoulders around me and heads for the pool table. Shocked, I hurry to catch up.

“Good evening.” Abe extends a hand to Matthew and flashes a big smile. “I’m Abe.”

I almost hit the deck when he gives his real name. Mellie’s jaw is on the floor.

“I’m Matthew.” He does Abe a credit just by returning the shake. The collective crowd in the billiard room is watching him—Matthew DaMolin—closely. They’ll take their cue from him. “How do you know Katarina?”

“Oh, Kat and I go way back,” Abe drawls. Matthew’s eyes register his casual use of my nickname. “We grew up together. Old friends.”

Mellie starts fanning herself. Her histrionics catch Abe’s attention, so he turns to her.

“Abe.” He offers his name and hand again. His eyes slide over her figure from head to toe, lingering ever so slightly on her soft curves, her flushed face.

Don’t you dare be a dog, Abe, I warn him with a look. I know what he likes, but my roommate is absolutely off limits.

Mellie gives the barest of return shakes, likely trying to avoid his highly contagious Catacomb-itis. “Melinda. I’m Kat’s roommate,” she says weakly.

“Pleasure to finally meet you, Melinda. Kat has told me much about you.”

“Indeed?” The tenor of her voice skyrockets, and her cheeks, if possible, blush even deeper.

Abe smiles, biting his lip and giving her one final appreciative glance before turning to Bobby. When the last introduction is complete, all eyes in the group turn to me.

Unexpectedly, it’s Matthew who steps in for the save. “We were about to start a game. Would you care to join us?” he asks Abe, polite beyond reproach.

“Sure. Kat and I used to play pool together all the time,” Abe answers, grinning like the imp he is. “It’s been a while though.”

Oh, sweet lord. The strip pool…

Matthew’s head whips to me, a question and an accusation burning in his eyes .

I sway on the spot. Mellie reaches to grab me, but I lean into Matthew’s ear instead. Damage control, the swifter the better.

“He’s just a friend, I swear,” I whisper to him. “I will tell you everything later tonight.” Well, almost everything.

Vaguely reassured, he reaches for the pool stick. Then Mellie does what she does best—throws me to the wolves.

“You know, I’m honestly quite terrible at this game,” she declares, backing away. “I’ll sit this round out. You can take my spot, Abe. I was partnering with Matthew.”

“I’m not sure that will be fair.” I try to keep my tone light. Abe and Matthew on the same team? They’ll destroy us. Only with Matthew tied to a Mellie-sized anchor did Bobby and I stand a chance.

“Who said anything about fair?” Matthew’s grin is devilish. “Remember when we decided losing was good for you?”

Abe smiles lazily, very much liking the sound of that. He looks at Matthew, an alliance forming. That’s when I know I’m in real trouble.

“You got a good break?” Matthew asks, tossing his pool cue to Abe.

Abe smirks and bends over the table, a quiet groan slipping between his teeth. The barest of grimaces crosses his face as he exhales. It’s pure instinct to reach for him. I brush my fingers over his injured ribs, concerned.

Abe coughs pointedly, and I drop my hand. Too late. Matthew has already seen.

I quickly lose all sympathy for Abe when he proceeds to knock down two perfect shots off the break. I keep my hands to myself for the remainder of the game.

Matthew and Abe bond from the outset, united by a shared bloodthirst for my head.

Matthew is easy to love, so I’m not surprised when he has Abe laughing within minutes.

I am, however, surprised by how quickly Abe manages to ingratiate himself in return.

He asks countless questions about Matt’s work at the hospital—a surefire way to his heart—and follows up with several insightful comments.

“Enough about me,” Matt eventually declares. “What do you do, Abe?”

The answer comes quick, sliding off Abe’s tongue like liquid mercury. “I’ve been working odd jobs lately, contracting for different things here and there.” He shrugs, keeping it deliberately vague. “I’m between positions at the moment.”