Chapter 24 Miami stands tall in the background as the helicopter lowers slowly toward the ground at the Coast Guard station right on the south end of Miami Beach, the air heavy with the scent of seawater and jet fuel. The reflective glow of skyscrapers and glass windows is almost as strong as the water of our cove, and if I close my eyes, I can practically hear the waves lapping up on our beach in the background. Two hours ago, we were cuddled in each other, a restless sleep driven by the unknown. Now, we're back, right in the middle of the action, as if life didn't pause at all. Avery's hand clutches mine tightly as Beau, Ronnie, and Mav all look out the window to the waiting crowd full of reporters, family, and friends, and my heart takes off at a gallop. Fuck, it feels strange to see civilization after thirteen days of nothing but ocean and sand...and Avery. The sound of the blades winding down is a pulsing timer toward chaos as we make contact with the ground and the whine of the engine quiets to a dull roar. Ronnie wastes no time sliding open the door at the side of the helicopter and climbs down first, and then the coastguardsmen follow suit. I doubt they ever have their passengers opening their doors and climbing down out of their shit without permission, but Ronnie wouldn't be Ronnie if he were worried about following the rules. He stands his ground even as they try to usher him out of the way so they can do their jobs, taking up a position at the side of the door and holding up a hand to help the rest of us jump out. Mav goes next, moving to the edge and launching himself down, but Beau turns back to us, waving a hand for Avery to go before him. She looks to me, her eyes wide and scared and confused, so I give her the nod of encouragement she needs and follow it up with a smile. "Go ahead, Ave." My voice is soft and ragged with weariness. "Your family is all waiting to see you." She nods and scoots forward, her grip on my hand just as tight as mine on hers, and I smile when she looks back once more. It's okay. Beau ushers her forward when she gets within reach, grabbing her free arm and pulling her to the edge to hand her off to a waiting Ronnie. Her outstretched arm behind her still holds tight to me, but there comes a point of impossibility, and in one smooth motion, our grip is ripped apart. Time speeds up and slows down all at once as Avery is ushered out of the helicopter and across the tarmac, and I scoot to the edge, where Beau and Ronnie help me down all the same. I'm not normally one to need help with anything physical, but my body is very obviously weakened from the malnourishment and dehydration, and I don't fight their hold on my hands. Avery tries to wait for me, but overwhelmed as we are with people, it's an impossibility. We aren't the only two people in the world anymore. Not even fucking close. My body is stiff from exhaustion, my mind still spinning from the whirlwind of survival. But the ache in my chest isn't from dehydration or hunger-it's from the sight of Avery disappearing into the crowd without me. Cameras flash and voices call out, frantic and eager for a glimpse of the "island survivors." Several journalists shout questions in my direction, and my stomach twists. I don't know what I expected to happen once we were safely rescued, but it sure as hell wasn't this. We're not celebrities or rock stars or billionaires-we're just a couple of people who got lost in the fold of the universe for a brief moment in time. Normally, I'm not opposed to having a moment in the spotlight, but normal is on the bottom of the ocean in a banana-colored plane. Being on the island wasn't easy, but it was real. And yet, with the distance between Avery and me growing by the second, it's starting to feel like it didn't happen at all. All these fucking cameras and reporters and people waiting to see the infamous "island survivors" feels faker than a porn star's tits. They don't care about us-they care about ratings. Our story is bound to bring them. I don't have any use for them turning what happened between Avery and me into some cheap, money-grab headline when it was...so much more than that. Using a hand to block the light from the cameras and ignoring them otherwise, I scour the crowd for Avery. I can still feel the warmth from her hand in mine, but she's long gone, tucked into the waiting arms of her family. They've been frantic, I'm sure, though the two of us have worked really hard not to let ourselves go there. Neil and Diane are the best of the best. They love their kids-and even their kids' friends-fiercely and are the most generous and kind and compassionate two people you'll ever meet. Their worry and well-being while we were gone wasn't something we could control, and if we'd let it, the need to do something to fix it could have driven us insane. My father was always that way with me too, so in some really weird, fucked-up way, I'm glad he didn't live to see this. I catch a glimpse of Avery's brown hair, still frizzed and matted in parts, as her mom pulls her into a crushing hug. Diane's sobs are soft but audible, and Neil and June end up latching on in a pile, unable to wait for their own turn. Beau stands back a foot, his little girl Addy on his hip and his four grandparents, Phil and Bev and Bill and Judy, at his side, and waits, having taken his moment on the helicopter ride back. His face is tight with stress and worry, and his hand grips Avery's shoulder like he's afraid she might vanish again. They've missed her. Of course they have. I've spent the last two weeks alone with her, and right now, I miss her too. "Henry! Henry! Over here!" The shout of my name startles me as reporters rush closer, microphones and cameras aimed directly at my face. Questions fly at me like bullets. "How did you survive?" "What happened to the pilot?" "What was it like being stranded for thirteen days?" "Was this a stunt you pulled for Adrenaline Junkie marketing, or did you really get stranded on that island?" A fucking stunt? Getting stuck on a remote island with no food, water, or way to reach the outside world? Give me a break. Before I can open my mouth or flip that last reporter the middle finger, a Coast Guard officer steps in, holding up his hands to keep the media back. "Give him some space," he barks, his voice firm. "Henry!" Ronnie's voice snaps me out of my thoughts, and I turn to find him and Maverick jogging over with four bottles of Prime, my favorite electrolyte drink. Ron holds out one of the bottles and pushes it to my chest, and I crack it open and take a swig without thinking. The taste is overly sweet as it hits my tongue, and I lick my dry lips to spread some of the moisture around, pulling the bottle away to stare at it for a moment. Cracking open a bottle. I shake my head. I can't fucking believe it's that easy. "Man, you're the talk of the fucking town!" Ronnie's laugh is hearty, but his eyes are creased with concern. He watches closely as I take another drink from the bottle and then another, and only when I finish the whole thing in one long gulp do his shoulders fall from his ears. He pulls me into a bear hug, clapping me on the back. "Still can't believe you fucking survived a plane crash and living on an island for two fucking weeks straight." The memory of Mario slumped over the controls and Avery's high-pitched screams as the plane dove for the water assaults me first, followed by the eerie sound of the plane hitting below us while we watched from our canopy ride down. "I didn't have much of a choice," I say, my voice almost too quiet for Ron or Mav to hear over the crowd. "Just look around, Hen," Maverick says, shaking his head in incredulity. "You're a goddamn hero." Truth be told, the word "hero" feels wrong. I'm not a hero. In those terrifying moments of survival, I thought of nothing but Avery and myself, and I didn't hesitate to choose us over Mario when the shit hit the fan. I'd like to think I would have acted differently if he'd shown any signs of life whatsoever, but I'm not entirely sure. All I know is that I would have done anything to protect Avery, including sacrificing myself if I needed to. Leaning my head to the side, I try to get another look at her, but too many people are in the way-too many reporters pointing their cameras in her beautiful face and snapping as many fucking pictures as their fingers can manage and too many family members fighting to hold her tight. "You know, maybe I should buy some stock in Adrenaline Junkie," Ronnie adds, the teasing in his voice bringing my attention back to him and the big-ass grin on his face. "Surely that shit is about to fly to the goddamn moon after all this." Mav snorts. "Adrenaline Junkie CEO proves he's legit by getting stranded on a remote island and surviving for thirteen days." I roll my eyes. "One of those asshole journalists asked me if it was a fucking stunt I pulled for marketing." "What the fuck?" Ronnie narrows his eyes. "Which one?" he questions, looking toward the boisterous crowd of media with scrutiny. "Point him out, Hen. Point that motherfucker out." I clap a hand to his back. "Don't worry about it, man." "Yeah, Ron," Mav chimes in. "Now isn't the time for you to start a fucking brawl. That shit would go viral. Too many cameras." "All right," Ron agrees. "But if you need a distraction to get the fuck out of here, you let me know." Before I can nod or tell him that that's actually a good idea, he pulls me back into a bone-crushing hug. My back aches with the pressure, all screwed up from sleeping on the ground for two weeks, but I don't say anything. For Ronnie Damon to be this emotional means something. "Fuck, Henry. I'm so fucking glad you're okay. We've all been worried sick." "Thanks, Ron," I say, my voice rough. It's exhaustion. It's emotion. It's everything. "It's good to see you guys." Mav follows suit, giving me another hug with a hearty clap to my back. "You scared the shit out of us, man. I swear I've never seen Ron cry so much." "Fucker," Ron whispers under his breath as I laugh. "It's good to be back." It's a dichotomous statement-both true and false at once. Being back is everything I prayed and hoped for every day, and yet I haven't felt right since we got here. Avery's hugging Beau now, her face pressed into his shoulder and her niece Addy patting her hair. June is holding Avery's hand, tears streaking her cheeks, and Neil has an arm around Diane, both of Avery's parents looking like they've aged a decade in the past two weeks. And her grandparents watch on-Phil and Bev standing sentry behind Neil, while Bill comforts Judy over to the side. Avery turns her head slightly, and for a split second, our eyes meet. My whole body locks up tight. The need to hug her, hold her-it's so fucking overwhelming. I've spent the last thirteen days with this woman. Every single minute, second, hour was spent together, trying to survive and cope and find a way to get through it all. We're bonded. The urge to go to her, to tell her I'll never forget the nights we spent together on the island, to tell her that I don't want what we shared to stop now that we're home, is right there, so close to fruition I actually take a step. "Henry!" a familiar female voice yells from the opposite direction, stealing my attention and sending my stomach to my toes. Ashley. My fucking girlfriend. She's running toward me, her blond hair flying behind her, tears streaming down her face as she busts through the line of reporters and shoves Ronnie and Mav to the side. She throws her arms around me before I can react and sends my weakened body back a step with the impact of her weight. "Oh my God, Henry! I thought... I thought I'd lost you!" Her voice cracks, and at the sound of her anguish, I feel like the world's biggest asshole. The only time I thought about Ashley in the last thirteen days was when Avery asked me about her, and upon arriving here, it stings to admit, but I didn't even think to look for her. She's a nice woman and an innocent victim in a conflicted situation, but right now, her body against mine feels like the enemy. A betrayal to the nights I spent cuddled with Avery and the very real sex we had on the island-my cock deep inside her and my eyes locked on her face when she came. It's so fucking ironic that the reality is the exact opposite. "God, Henry. I was so worried," Ashley chokes out. "S-so scared." "I'm okay," I say, my voice hollow. "I'm here." Ashley pulls back just enough to look at me, her hands still gripping my arms. "I can't believe you're actually here," she says, her eyes searching mine. "I've been praying for you every single day, Henry. Praying that you'd come back to me." Come back to her. Ashley's grip tightens, and she presses her face into my chest. I wrap my arms around her out of reflex, but my eyes keep drifting back to the crowd, searching for Avery. She's nowhere to be seen, and the ache in my chest deepens. For thirteen days, it was just Avery and me. Together. Now, there's another woman in my arms, and I'm not sure where we stand at all.