Page 103 of The Doctor's Truth

“Donovan!” I call out before he can board the ferry.

He stops in place and looks at me. The muscles in his jaw go tight.

I’m short of breath, and the cold air makes my lungs feel like I’m breathing through ice. I stop at the bottom of the ramp, and he doubles back to meet me.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he asks.

“What are you doing?” I counter. “You’re leaving? Now?”

His eyes narrow. “I was going to call you.”

“When? When you were in New York and I couldn’t do anything about it?” He paces away, jaw set. I throw up my hands. “Jesus Christ, Donovan, just talk to me!”

He steps close, and his voice is low, intense. “I promise, I will explain everything. But I can’t talk about this. Not here.” His eyes flicker side to side, as though he’s looking for someone. Or someone’s looking for him? When they meet mine again, he says: “Right now, you need to trust me.”

“You can’t abandon Otto.” My voice cracks. My vision goes hazy. “He needs you.”

I need you sits on the tip of my tongue, but the words clot.

Donovan glances at his feet. Finally showing some emotion. A hint of shame. “He’s a strong kid. He’ll be alright.”

My jaw clenches. “Truth or dare.”

His eyes darken. “I’m not playing this game with you.”

“Truth or dare.”

He throws up his hands. “Dare!”

“I dare you to tell the truth for once.”

“What do you want me to say?”

“Do you love me?” Silence from Donovan. His lips press together tightly, sealing the words in, so I continue. “Is that why you never pick truth? Because you’re afraid to confess it…you love me. You have. Ever since we were kids. I didn’t get it before, but now—”

“Stop.” It’s not angry—his tone sounds defeated. His eyes close briefly, as though he’s in pain. “Please, stop.”

“Why?” I ask. “Because it’s true? If it’s true—if you really love me—stay. Stay for me.”

His eyes open again, and he stares at me. I can’t decipher the darkness behind those browns.

“I don’t love anyone but myself, Kenzi,” he says. “You should know that by now.”

Cue my heart, shattering into a million pieces.

I can’t speak. There are words—words I want to say, balled up in the back of my throat.

But they won’t come out.

The ferryman comes between us and starts to close the gate. “Are you coming aboard, ma’am?”

Otto is in Hannsett Island. Jason is here.

But my heart is on the ferry, clutching his bag.

I shake my head. I step back behind the yellow line and hug my arms to my chest.

“I love you,” I tell him suddenly. The words hurt. Like something has been torn out from inside of me, stitches ripped open.

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