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At our first Magpie stakeout, I discreetly pass along an early Christmas gift for Abe—a neatly folded slip of paper with the name and contact information for the head of security at the hospital. There’s also a line from Matthew saying he recommended Abe for an open position.

“You don’t have to do this for him,” I told Matthew when he handed me the note.

“Kat, I don’t hold anything against Abe.

He showed up to meet me head-on, like a gentleman, marching himself straight into the lion’s den to do it.

And he didn’t so much as bat an eyelash when I kissed or touched you throughout the night.

He’s a stand-up fella. He respects you. Your history with Abe doesn’t bother me. ”

I ignored his insinuation. That Paul—who hasn’t shown his face—is neither a gentleman nor a stand-up guy.

“Even still,” I replied, “this…setting up a job for him, this goes above and beyond.”

He shrugged. “You go to bat for the people you love, Kat. I’ve watched my father do it time and time again for my mother. Even when it’s hard for him. This is nothing. Abe is important to you, so if I can help him, of course I will.”

Simple as that.

When I give the paper to Abe, he nods appreciatively and pockets it before Paul or Tony notice .

The Royals and I proceed to spend the misty December night outside, casing the Magpies’ riverfront den on the outskirts of the bayou.

How they came to be in possession of a dilapidated clipper ship on the Savannah docks is beyond me, but they’ve held the vessel for three years, sleeping below deck in their maritime clubhouse and stashing loot in the ship’s underbelly.

They post round-the-clock guards at the base of the gangplank, with the remainder of the crew safely ensconced inside the vessel.

We’re about two hours into our initial recon, the scrapings of a rudimentary plan forming, when Paul makes a surprisingly rash announcement. He wants to hit the ship next week, on New Year’s Eve. He says that date will make for a perfect “object lesson.”

This is a bad idea for multiple reasons, the least of which being I’ve just made New Year’s plans with Matthew. Taking a deep breath to steel myself, I tell Paul I won’t be able to run a job that night.

“Why the hell not?” He whirls on me. “And so help me god, Kat, if your little boyfriend’s name comes out of your mouth anywhere in your explanation, I’m going to lose it.”

I stay silent. Stonily so. My eyes burn into his with frustration.

“We’re going to talk about this later.” I hear the threat in his tone.

“Oh, leave her alone, Paul,” Abe says.

“Stay out of this, Abe.”

“What’s our Plan B?” Tony asks, blowing on his hands for warmth. “We push it back a few days?”

“No, we go ahead with the plan as is .” Paul crosses his arms. “We don’t need Kat for every job. Abe can do her part.”

Tony and Abe can’t hide their shock. I don’t like his answer either, and I really don’t like the thought of the boys going three wolves against eight or more Magpies, especially considering Abe’s ribs are barely healed.

“You’re a fool if you mean that,” I tell Paul. “It’s suicide to try this without me. ”

“Well, Kat, you don’t really have a say in this,” he snaps back. “If you aren’t going to show up for us, you don’t get to have an opinion.”

And that clams me up good. Tony looks at the ground, uncomfortable.

Tears of frustration well in my eyes, but I hold them in because I refuse to give Paul the satisfaction.

Instead, I wiggle my foot in my boot until I feel the tip of my dagger press my skin.

I concentrate on the reassuring pressure until an hour later when I beg off early for the night.

I reject Paul’s, then Abe’s, offer to accompany me back to the Academy.

The following evening, I turn up at Paul’s downtown apartment to celebrate Christmas Eve together, same as every year. Unfortunately, we’re not destined for a happy holiday.

We have it out almost immediately, beginning when he asks why I’m skipping out on the Magpie job. When I tell him about the overnight with Matthew on Jekyll Island, he loses it. Absolutely loses it. The fight continues for hours. We spiral.

“This has got to stop, Kat,” he finally declares. “I can’t have this argument anymore. It stops now. Jekyll Island Club or not, you’re not going away with him.”

“Why are you being difficult about this? You told me to get to know him, that he could be valuable .” I throw his words back at him. “That Jekyll Island and those blasted DaMolin rubies are the ultimate prize!”

“That was before—”

“Before what?” I wait, but Paul doesn’t reply. I release a bitter laugh and shake my head. “I guess that’s just another point to chalk up on the long list of things you can’t tell me, huh? Screw you, Paul. Trust is a two-way street. I’m going with him.”

Paul’s face darkens. “No. You’re not.”

“You don’t get to tell me who I can and can’t see.” I narrow my eyes. “You’ve never minded sharing me with Abe.”

“Christ, Kat! That’s different. It’s Abe . ”

“How is this different?”

“Well, for one thing, I don’t imagine Sir Matthew DaMolin is interested in sharing you with me . Does he even know about me? Or Abe?”

“He does, actually. He knows about you both . And he handled the conversation with a lot more maturity and grace than you are.”

A flicker of uncertainty flashes across Paul’s face, but he covers it with another attack. “I’m sorry to disappoint you, Miss Katarina Quinn. I’m sorry I’m not living up to your newly raised standards.”

“That’s not what I said. Don’t twist my words. You set my standard. You always have. It’s him who has to worry about competing with you. Why don’t you see that? I’m trying so desperately to choose you. Why can’t you let me? I’m looking for a reason, Paul. Any reason. Just give me one.”

Ask me. I look at him, beseeching. Tell me it’s me, only me, for you. Always.

He stares straight back, unyielding, stubborn as the day is long.

When he finally speaks, it’s not what I want to hear. “What have you told him about us? Have you compromised us for him?”

I’m struck dumb, so hurt by the question, I can’t immediately answer.

“You know the motto,” Paul breathes. Ice fills my veins. “Fool me once, Katarina…”

“I’m not fooling you. I would never risk you, or Abe, or Tony,” I plead, tears rising. “It’s a shame I can’t say the same about you.”

“What?”

“You’re clearly willing to risk them by pushing ahead with this revenge scheme of yours. And your behavior tonight shows you’re willing to risk losing me too.”

With that, I rise from my chair, grab my coat, and run out of the apartment.

This love we have is all-consuming. Volatile, combustible.

But on nights like this, I truly wonder if both of us will make it out alive.

There’s no thinking. No hesitation. I go straight to the bayou house.

Abe and Tony are bumming around in the kitchen when I torpedo through the door. I stand in the entryway, shaking with both anger and cold. I never put on my coat; it’s still bunched up in my fist.

Abe takes in my red-rimmed eyes and devastated face. “Oh, Kat.”

I let out a tiny, pitiful wail before hurtling into his arms.

Tony walks around the table and hugs me from behind. “Mmm, it’s a gringa sandwich,” he mumbles into my shoulder. “It tastes so good.”

He does his job well. I sniffle out a laugh.

“You shouldn’t let him upset you like this,” Abe tells me. “He’s an idiot.”

“He is, isn’t he?” I agree with another sniffle.

“He is.”

“You see, I know that.” I pull back a little, enough to look at Abe. “Logically, I know it…”

“But?” Abe prompts.

“But why does it hurt so much?” I bury my face back in his chest. “He’s hurting me, Abe. I don’t want to feel like this anymore. And I don’t know how to fix it. It just feels broken.”

They stay with me in the kitchen for an hour, letting me get it all out.

They listen, and they’re there. When I’m finally all cried out, I do something I’ve never done before.

I walk into Abe’s room, forsaking the master bedroom, with him and Tony.

And all three of us curl up on his bed and go to sleep.

It’s another gringa sandwich. And it feels so good.

Paul doesn’t come over on Christmas morning. Or afternoon. Or evening.

By the time night falls, the three of us are locked in a heated card game.

When I’m laughing and playing with the guys, I can almost forget what a miserable Christmas this has been.

But then Abe excuses himself for the bathroom, and I sigh, slipping back into a morose state.

Absentmindedly, my eyes follow his back as he disappears.

“It’s okay to love them both, Kat,” Tony tells me softly, putting down his cards. “I do too. A little differently than you, I think, but still. It doesn’t make you a bad person. El corazón quiere lo que quiere.”

I look at him, surprised. He’s referring to Paul and Abe, which means he only has two-thirds of the story.

“What about three?” I ask. “Does loving all three make me a bad person?”

“The doctor ? Really?”

“Maybe.” I take a deep breath as I try to explain. “Abe is my rock. Paul is my lifeline. And Matthew…when I’m with him, Tony…sometimes, it feels like Matthew is becoming my everything.”

“That sounds rather serious.” Tony sits back. “Paul knows?”

“He suspects. And he doesn’t like it.”

“Of course he doesn’t like it, Kat. You’re doing to him what you do to Abe—making him watch something that hurts.”

“It’s not like that with Abe. He doesn’t mind. We’ve talked about it. A lot.”

“He tells you he doesn’t mind, Kat. That doesn’t make it true. We have a saying back in Cuba, amor y celos, hermanos gemelos. Do you know what that means, gringa?”

“No.”

“Love and jealousy, twin siblings.” He crosses two fingers to demonstrate. “And you, Kat…I love you, but you’ve perfected this act. Abe was a dress rehearsal. The doctor’s the real deal.”