Page 34

A few days after returning from Jekyll Island, I go to the bayou loft to meet the Royals. We’re conducting another night of surveillance at the Magpies’ riverfront hideout.

“How was your trip?” Paul asks.

Tony and Abe pull their shoes on by the door, listening.

“It was good.” I offer nothing more.

A little tentatively, Paul leans in to hug me. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” I sink into him, and his muscles relax.

He doesn’t ask anything more—nothing about the Jekyll Island Club or Matthew or his family. And I don’t volunteer a word. My relationship with Matthew is no longer up for discussion.

Under the cover of darkness, we hover at the docks near the Magpie clipper ship all night, inspecting the people coming and going.

“This is going to be a hard task,” I observe, watching Magpies carry crates of supplies up and down the gangplank. I point to the churning river, then the smooth wooden hull of the bobbing ship. “I can’t climb that. We’ll have to fight our way in.”

“You don’t need to sneak in, you just need to be able to get out,” Paul says, eyeing the ship’s rigging.

I study the complicated web of interconnected ropes, assess the distance of a swing from deck to shore. I gnaw on my cheek, mulling it over before nodding. “I can extract quickly. But I have to get in first.” I gesture to the armed guards sitting dockside. “And they have guns.”

We’ve seen eight people man the ship during our stakeouts, always three standing watch outside while the rest cluster aboard. It’s a tall order but not impossible. The guns make me very nervous.

“I’m not sure about this, Paul.” I turn to face him. “Is it really necessary? We took out nearly half the gang at Farley’s, isn’t that enough? They’re crippled.”

“I don’t want them crippled. We made that mistake once before with Damien. This time, I want them gone . Their guns too.”

I nod, drumming my nails on my leg. Still worried.

Paul takes my hand to stop my fingers. He leans in and softly kisses me. “I won’t let anything happen to you, Kitty-Kat.”

“It’s not only me I’m worried about.”

“It’s a good plan, Kat. One we’ve used to great effect before.”

“For much smaller jobs, with far fewer guns,” I point out. “No guns, really.”

“We’ll disable the guns first. Abe will have your bag, and we’ll get you inside. The rest will be quick.”

“Okay.” I let him convince me.

“We’ll run the job next week,” Paul says. “In the meantime, Abe, pick someone to tail during the day. Start tomorrow. A different person each day. I want a better idea of what they’re doing and what they’re moving. I don’t want to run into any surprises when Kat gets onto the ship.”

“I can’t do it tomorrow,” Abe says, “but I’ll start the day after.”

All three of us turn to stare at him.

“I’m working tomorrow,” he explains carefully. “I picked up a job.”

“A job?” Tony asks. “Doing what?”

“It’s a security position downtown. Just for extra cash. ”

“If you need scratch,” Paul says, “you got it. You don’t need to take a job, Abe. There’s plenty to go around.”

“It’s okay. I’m actually interested in the position. It’s a good opportunity. I’ll learn a lot.”

Paul is puzzled, but he doesn’t argue further. “Fine. Tony, you’re up tomorrow. Take your pick.”

“Tubby.” He points at a large lump of a man on watch now. He’s propped on a barrel with his head tilted back, half asleep on the job.

“Good choice.” Abe laughs. “He looks like a real go-getter.”

When we pack it in for the night, Paul walks to the streetcar with me. To my surprise, he rides back to the Academy, then walks me all the way to my window.

“Wow, full door-to-door service tonight,” I tease.

“If I could crawl up there and fall asleep with you, I would do that too.”

“Mellie would have a conniption.”

He smiles at me, and it’s achingly familiar, his crooked and shifty little grin.

“I’ve missed you so much, Kat,” he tells me again, stepping closer. He slides his arms around my back and tucks me into his chest. He breathes me in for a moment, and I do the same with him. Faded smoke and cedarwood, crisp air. Pure Paul.

When he reaches for my chin, I give it to him. I let him tip my face up. When he does, I identify something unfamiliar in his eyes: uncertainty.

Paul is never uncertain.

I freeze, wondering—not for the first time—if something has broken between us. Something potentially irreparable.

He sighs and leans his forehead against mine.

We stand together, just like that, for a while, neither of us saying anything.

Just breathing. Without any prompting, our breaths gradually get heavier, a little faster.

We sneak peeks at each other and slowly, my heart comes alive. Paul licks his lips and looks at mine.

“You don’t have to ask,” I whisper.

His eyes grow molten, and when our lips meet, he pours himself into me. He presses me to the brick wall and kisses me with everything he’s got. Over and over again. And oh, can that boy kiss. He kisses me silly. Until I’m blue in the face and not sure what my first name is.

“Kat,” he whispers against my lips.

That’s right. I’m Kat. And this is…

“Paul,” I whisper back.

He pulls away. “It’s been a long time since you blue balled me, but tonight, I’m gonna let it slide and say goodnight.”

I laugh lightly. “Okay. Goodnight, Paul.”

“Goodnight, doll.” He reaches for my waist and lifts me onto the wall, lightly swatting my behind as I scamper up.

I swing through the window and turn to wave, but he’s already melted into the darkness.

I laugh again and, hoping Mellie won’t stir, release the tiniest, quietest of howls out the window. I hold my breath and wait.

He doesn’t disappoint. Hardly a moment later, I hear him, a playful yip from somewhere down the dark street. I don’t need to see him to feel his eyes on me. With Paul, I always know.