Page 67 of The Doctor's Truth

“Yeah…” Jason says. “I’d be into that.”

His voice is thick. He wants this, too. Just as badly as I do.

My eyes travel across the horizon. The lighthouse is silhouetted behind bursts of blue and yellow lights. “I bet the view is beautiful up there,” I muse.

“Only one way to find out.” Jason tilts his head. “C’mon.”

“What?” Astounded, because he can’t be serious…but his long legs take him fast, and he’s already steps ahead of us. Donovan and I follow after him, and I repeat, “Jason, what?”

* * *

Donovan and I wait outside while Jason talks with the lighthouse keeper.

He’s this grizzled, old man who looks positively dwarfed next to Jason. But he nods as he listens, and then the two shake hands.

“What do you think they’re saying?” I ask.

“Twenty minutes at the top for a blowjob?” Donovan guesses, and I elbow him in the side.

Jason comes bounding back to us, all grins. “Check it out.” He dangles a pair of rusted keys that look like they might’ve unlocked a pirate’s treasure chest in a past life.

“Jason.” I gawk. “How…?”

“Rule number one of being friends with Jason,” Donovan says, “never ask how.”

“I can’t help that people like me,” Jason said. “Also that I’m beautiful.”

“Told you,” Donovan says, and I stifle a laugh.

Jason cocks his head. “Told her what?”

“Don’t worry about it.” I slip my hands over his chest and nuzzle in. His nose feels cold against mine. “Are you going to show us inside or what?”

He grins. “Right this way, m’lady.”

He leads us to the lighthouse and opens the rounded door. The walls are blue stone, and when we go inside, it’s not much warmer than outside. Probably something to do with the fact that there’s no ceiling—just a winding staircase that goes around and around until it gets to the top. There are lanterns on the walls, which gives the place a golden glow, and they illuminate old maps of Hannsett Island and mounted descriptions of the history and inner mechanics of the lighthouse.

“No chance they installed an elevator?” Donovan asks, sizing up the winding staircase.

“Last one to the top is a muskrat,” Jason says and launches toward the stairs.

We dash up, my heels clicking, their shoes slapping. The staircase is narrow, old, and I grip the railing and try to avoid the vertigo of all the turns. Finally, we get up to a landing, and Jason uses the key to unlock a door. It takes us outside again, this time onto a small platform. I know I shouldn’t, but I lean over the iron railing and look down—we’re four, maybe five stories up, but it feels taller since I can see past the snow-coated ground, down the cliff, where the waves churn below.

The railing is so cold, it hurts to touch it, but the thought of plummeting down makes me grip it hard.

“Right behind you,” Donovan says, as though he can smell my fear. His hand touches my side, and the solidness of his touch relaxes me enough to keep moving forward.

It’s a small climb into the glass cavern of the overlook. Jason takes my hand to help me step up. It feels like being in a fishbowl. Curved windows line the walls, giving a panoramic view of Hannsett Island. I’m sure it looks beautiful in the daytime, but at night it’s mostly just dark—save the ever-glowing hum of the medical center, the green and red lights blinking in the water, and the burst and explosion of color that fills the sky every couple of minutes.

In the middle sits the eye of the lighthouse—the giant lantern. For something so old, it looks almost futuristic; it has panels of glass, one layered over the other, like ripples receding from the center. The light itself isn’t lit, but there are tiny floodlights that surround it, and crystal shards of light bounce off the lantern, scattering rainbows across the floors and ceiling.

“Looks like you were right,” Jason tells me. “It’s way cooler up here.”

“It really is beautiful,” I agree.

For a second, the three of us just stand there, watching the explosion of lights. The reflection of the fireworks lights up their faces—Jason, grinning, as happy as a kid at a candy store. Donovan, quiet, contented.

I want to hold on to this moment forever.

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