Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 102167 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 511(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102167 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 511(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
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.