Between Here and the Horizon(72)

I gaped at the box, horrified. “Are you kidding me? How many…how many hours of porn is that?”

“God knows. At least a hundred.” He threw the USB back in the box. “Maybe two.”

“Should I be thanking you right now?”

“Only if you mean it,” he said, winking.

“Well, I don’t. God, what am I supposed to do with two hundred hours of porn, Sully?”

“Watch it. Give yourself carpal tunnel. Make yourself happy, girl.”

“I am not…urgh!” I thought about dumping the scalding hot wine I was holding down the back of his jacket. I thought about punching him in the balls, too, but I got the feeling he was expecting this reaction and was already preparing to block my attack. “Why do you have to be such a dick, Sully Fletcher?” I growled.

He sighed heavily and threw his arm back around my shoulder, pulling me to him again. “I told you. I promised I’d be a super *. To protect you.”

“Ha! To protect me.” I squirmed, trying to get up, but he held onto me tight.

“Yeah,” he said. “To protect you.” And then, much quieter, “And to protect me, too.”

I waited a long time, leaning against him, breathing him in, before it felt like the right time to speak. “You know, I have something for you, too, Sully.”

“A Christmas gift?”

“Not really. Just…something I thought you should have.” I couldn’t be sure giving him Magda’s journal was the right thing to do—he’d said at Rose’s party he never wanted to see it again. I just couldn’t shake the fact that I certainly didn’t have any business keeping it in my possession. I withdrew the hard, leather-bound journal from the inside of my jacket and held onto it with both hands, looking down at it. I gave it to Sully, cringing.

“Jesus,” he whispered. “I guess I deserve this after the porn.”

“That’s not all of it,” I told him.

“It gets worse?”

I fished the small piece of ribbon and polished metal out of my pocket, dropping it into Sully’s open hand. I closed his fingers around it, sighing. “Ronan may have let you down, Sully, but a medal is a big deal. He earned it. You should have it. You should keep it. One day, you might be able to look at it and be proud of him.”

Sully uncurled his fingers one at a time, looking down at the Purple Heart in the palm of his hand. His shoulders rounded in, his posture sagging.

“Thank you, Lang.”

“You’re not mad?”

“No. I’m not mad, I promise.” He slowly got to his feet, holding the journal and the medal stiffly, as if they were live grenades, about to go off any second. I should have known what was coming next. I should have seen it coming. I didn’t, though. Sully took two long, purposeful strides toward the edge of the cliff face, and he launched Magda’s journal over the side into the roaring dark ocean. Pages exploded everywhere like white birds, diving down into the churning water below.

“Sully! Oh my god!”

He turned and looked at me. “The past is the past, Lang. What’s the point in hiding it in a drawer, letting it fester?” He held up the medal, looking at it briefly before drawing back his arm.

“Sully, wait!”

He paused.

“Are you sure? Are you really sure you want to do that?”

He gave me a small, sad mile. “More than anything in the world.” The medal rocketed into the night, immediately vanishing from view. I didn’t see it hit the water. I didn’t hear the splash. It was there one moment, sitting in Sully’s hand. The next minute, it was gone.





CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE





The Observatory





The light was on at the lighthouse when we got back. A pillar of yellow light blasted out of the round observatory at the top of the building, sweeping slowly back and forth out toward the ocean. “Whoa, I didn’t realize this was a working lighthouse. Why didn’t I notice that when I pulled up earlier?”

“It’s on a timer,” Sully said. “I don’t have to do anything. It just comes on when it’s supposed to. Goes off the same way. I essentially get paid to change the light bulb every once in a while, and that’s it.”

I knew what was going to happen if we went inside. I went inside anyway. Sully was right. The past month really had been shitty, and today was Christmas Day, damnit. I wasn’t going to deny myself anymore. Not for the next twelve hours, anyway. Tomorrow might be a different story, but for now…

“Do you want a drink?” Sully held up a bottle of wine, lifting one eyebrow.

“Whiskey?” I countered.

Sully grinned. “This is why I like you, Lang. You never fail to surprise.” He disappeared back into the kitchen; when he came back he was carrying two rocks glasses each containing a good three shots of whiskey and wearing a curious look on his face. “I don’t think my friend Jared can drive you home tonight if you drink too much, y’know?” he informed me.

“That’s okay. I planned on sleeping in your bed.”

“Oh, is that so?” He handed me my glass and took a sip out of his own, smirking down at me. “Let me guess. I’ll be sleeping on the couch, then?”