「 ✦ RESCUES ✦ 」

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"YOU REALIZE WE'RE ALL IN DANGER now?" John B yelled, his voice echoing in the dense woods. His frustration boiled over as he pointed an accusatory finger at the twins. "All of us are screwed because of you two!"

"Can this wait?" Kiara snapped, her tone sharp as she glared at John B. "We're trying to figure out how to get out of here, not assign blame."

JJ's eyes narrowed, his face darkening with barely-contained anger. "We didn't ask any of you to come after us, okay? We didn't ask you to follow us or get involved in our mess."

"Oh, come on, JJ," John B shot back, his voice rising. "Pope just threw away his whole life for you two! For what? Another reckless, half-baked scheme?"

JJ clenched his fists, taking a step closer to John B. His voice was low, dangerously calm. "Pope made his own choice. Don't you dare put that on us. He was trying to save all of us, not just me and MJ."

"You're both acting like martyrs, but you don't even see what you're doing to the rest of us!" John B shouted, his frustration spilling over. "Everything we've worked for, everything we've been through, and you're just dragging us all down with you!"

MJ, who had been silent up until now, suddenly stepped forward, her face flushed with fury. Her voice cut through the argument like a blade. "Do you even hear yourself, John B? Do you even realize how hypocritical you sound right now?"

John B blinked, startled by her sudden outburst. "What are you talking about?"

MJ's laugh was sharp and bitter. "You really don't get it, do you? You're standing here, acting all high and mighty, like we're the ones ruining everything. But have you ever taken a second to think about the chaos you've caused? The lives you've wrecked?"

John B stared at her, his jaw tightening. "I've been trying to protect all of us, MJ. That's why I—"

"Protect us?" MJ interrupted, her voice rising. "Is that what you tell yourself? Because from where I'm standing, all you've done is drag your friends down with you. You think Pope throwing away his future is bad? How about the time you got JJ beaten half to death by Ward Cameron? Or how you pulled Kiara into this mess, knowing she had everything to lose? And Sarah—she gave up her entire life for you, John B! She turned her back on her family! All because you wanted to play hero!"

John B opened his mouth to respond, but MJ didn't give him the chance.

"You think you're some noble leader, but all you do is make reckless decisions and expect everyone else to pick up the pieces. And now you're blaming us for trying to survive? Are you serious right now?"

The group stood in stunned silence, the weight of MJ's words sinking in. Even JJ, who usually had something sarcastic to add, stayed quiet.

MJ's voice cracked as she continued, her anger giving way to exhaustion. "You don't get to stand there and act like we're the bad guys. Not after everything we've done for each other. We've all lost something, John B. Every single one of us. So stop pretending like you're the only one who's sacrificed anything."

John B looked away, his shoulders sagging under the weight of her words. He didn't have a response, and for once, he looked like he was actually hearing her.

Kiara cleared her throat, breaking the tense silence. "We need to figure out what we're doing next," she said softly, her voice cautious.

MJ nodded, stepping back and brushing tears from her eyes. Her voice was quieter now, but still firm. "Yeah. Let's focus on getting out of this alive. Then we can figure out who to blame later."

JJ placed a protective hand on her shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. The group exchanged uneasy glances, the cracks in their unity painfully evident, but they knew MJ was right.

The sound of a police boat's engine cut through the tense silence, growing louder as it approached the dock. The group froze, their collective panic palpable as they realized who it was. JJ was the first to spot the unmistakable silhouette of Sheriff Shoupe, standing tall on the bow of the boat, his hand resting on his holstered gun. Beside him, Sandra stood with a clipboard in hand, her expression unreadable, but her sharp eyes scanned the group like a hawk.

"Shit," JJ muttered under his breath, instinctively stepping in front of MJ. His hand twitched at his side as if itching for the flare gun again, but he knew better.

Kiara's heart sank as she saw her dad glance nervously between her and the approaching law enforcement. He looked torn, like he was debating whether to intervene or step aside.

The boat slowed as it neared the dock, the wake lapping against the wooden beams. Sheriff Shoupe's voice boomed over the water, his tone authoritative but calm. "Alright, kids, let's not make this harder than it has to be. Step away from the boat and keep your hands where I can see them."

Sandra stepped forward, her voice softer but no less firm. "We're not here to hurt anyone, but you've got to understand how bad this looks. We just want to talk."

"Talk?" MJ scoffed, her voice sharp as she stepped forward. "What's there to talk about? You're just gonna haul us in like you always do. No one ever listens to us!"

Shoupe's eyes narrowed, his jaw tightening. "MJ, don't make this worse. You're already in deep. Arson, theft, and now a stolen police boat? You're lucky we're even giving you a chance to come quietly."

"We didn't set that fire!" JJ snapped, his voice cracking with frustration. "And we sure as hell didn't kill Hollis Robinson. That's on Groff, not us!"

JJ's eyes darted between Sandra and Shoupe, his mind racing. He wanted to believe her, but the trust just wasn't there. Not after everything.

John B stepped forward, his hands raised as he tried to de-escalate. "Look, we all just need to calm down. No one here is trying to make things worse. Right?"

Shoupe's eyes flicked to John B, his expression hardening. "You're not exactly in a position to play mediator, Routledge. You've got your own list of charges waiting back at the station."

Kiara moved to stand beside JJ and MJ, her voice firm. "They didn't do this, Sheriff. Groff set them up, and you know it. You've seen what he's capable of."

Sandra glanced at Shoupe, a flicker of doubt crossing her face. "She's right. Groff's name has been coming up a lot lately. Maybe we should—"

"We're not negotiating," Shoupe interrupted, his tone brooking no argument. "This ends now. Kids, step away from the boat and come with us."

"Don't do it, JJ," Sandra warned, her voice edged with desperation. "You've got one shot to do this the right way. Don't throw it away."

Sheriff Shoupe's voice carried over the tense silence like a death knell. "We just gotta let the courts sort it out," he said, his tone clipped. "All I know is, I've got a warrant for Pope, MJ, and JJ. And I'm tired of this goose chase—it ends here."

MJ's stomach churned as she watched Shoupe's stern expression, but her heart nearly stopped when her eyes landed on a figure behind him. Rafe. He was approaching from the dock, his strides purposeful, his jaw set like he was on some kind of mission. She hadn't seen him since their last explosive encounter, and things hadn't exactly ended on good terms. But still—this was Rafe. Her Rafe.

Before she could process what was happening, Shoupe's voice snapped her back to reality. "Y'all come with us now." He gestured sharply, and Sandra stepped forward, motioning for MJ to move toward her.

"Hey!" Rafe's voice rang out across the chaos, sharp and commanding.

Shoupe whipped around, his face a mix of confusion and irritation. "What the hell?"

Sandra froze, her face paling as she pointed at Rafe. "No, no, no. What the bloody hell is he doing here? MJ—"

"I'm just here to save everyone's asses, okay?" Rafe interrupted, his hands raised slightly in a mock gesture of surrender. His piercing gaze locked on MJ, and his expression softened just enough to send her heart into free fall. His lips curled into that signature, heart-stopping smirk. "Hi, my love."

"Hey, stay back!" Shoupe barked, his hand instinctively going to his holstered gun.

MJ instinctively stepped forward, drawn to Rafe like a magnet, but Sandra grabbed her arm. "Stay put, Maybank," she hissed under her breath.

Rafe's face twisted with irritation as he raised his hands higher. "Jesus Christ! What are you gonna do, shoot me? Really? I'm unarmed!" He turned his glare on Sandra, then Shoupe. "You're looking for Chandler Groff, yeah? The guy you really want?"

The group exchanged confused looks, even more baffled than before. Rafe was engaged to MJ—JJ's twin sister—but his history with the Pogues wasn't exactly sunshine and rainbows. If anything, the fact that Rafe Cameron was here, seemingly trying to help, left everyone stunned, MJ included.

"What are you even talking about, Cameron?" Shoupe snapped, still not lowering his hand from his holster.

Rafe sighed dramatically, as if he were surrounded by idiots. "Groff was working with Hollis the entire time, okay? Scamming her and God knows how many other people. If you ask me, he probably killed her. Not Rosemary. Not... him." He gestured toward the group, his voice growing sharper. "You're chasing the wrong people."

Shoupe's brow furrowed, and Rafe's eyes narrowed. "Oh, you already thought that, didn't you? Yeah, I bet you did. Groff probably killed Genrette, too. And that body in the dunes? You got that pinned on Groff yet?"

"They have the same tattoos as Kenyon and the people who killed Zaza," MJ chimed in, her voice cutting through the tension like a knife.

Sandra whirled on her, her tone scolding. "Stop talking, MJ. You're not helping yourself."

MJ's glare could've set the dock on fire. "Shut the fuck up, Sandy."

Rafe turned to MJ, the corners of his mouth twitching in approval, before shifting his focus back to the group. The Pogues exchanged looks, clearly bewildered by this bizarre turn of events.

"Listen," Rafe continued, his voice calm but insistent. "You can drag these guys in for some petty vandalism—sorry, baby—disturbing the peace, or whatever minor bullshit you want. Or you can go after the big fish. These guys," he gestured at the Pogues, "know where Groff is. And he's the one you really want."

Shoupe narrowed his eyes, considering Rafe's words. "Yeah? Where is he?"

John B crossed his arms defiantly, his chin tilted up. "Out of your jurisdiction, Shoupe."

"Way out," Pope added, his voice steady. "Try out of the country."

"We were on our way to get him, and then you showed up," John B said, his tone sharp with frustration.

"Thanks for that, by the way, you asshole," MJ scoffed, shooting Shoupe a glare. Sandra immediately turned to give MJ a stern look, but MJ rolled her eyes dramatically and mimicked the expression before flipping her off. "Sandra, I'm twenty, okay? I should've aged out. Get off my dick."

"When you—" Sandra began, but Shoupe cut her off with a sharp, "Sandra, stop." His attention shifted to the small police dinghy the Pogues had commandeered. "You were going to catch Groff in that?" he asked incredulously, his eyebrow raised.

"No," Rafe interjected, sounding as though the answer should've been obvious. He gestured over his shoulder toward a fishing boat idling in the water. "That."

Kie, Pope, and Cleo turned to MJ, searching for some kind of reaction. MJ twisted the ring on her finger, her face betraying nothing but slight amusement. She gave a nonchalant shrug, though the flicker of pride for her fiancé didn't go unnoticed.

"They know where Groff is," Rafe continued, his voice growing more insistent, "and I can get them there. But they can't do a damn thing if they're all locked up." His frustration was evident, his tone teetering between exasperation and urgency.

"And you just want me to let them go?" Shoupe shot back, his irritation matching Rafe's. "No, thanks." He turned to the Pogues with a hard glare. "Here's how this is gonna work. You're coming with me. You tell us where Groff is, and I'll make you a deal. You cooperate, and I guarantee we'll go easy on you."

JJ scoffed loudly, clenching his jaw as he shot a look at his twin sister. MJ's gaze narrowed on Shoupe, her eyes glazed over in a way that sent a ripple of unease through the group. Kiara recognized the look immediately—it was the same distant, detached stare MJ had whenever Kenyon and Zaza used to feed her whatever they were dealing.

"Hell, your charges might even disappear. Ever heard of quid pro quo?" Shoupe pressed, his tone dripping with fake generosity.

John B's lip curled into a sneer. "Oh, you mean like when I was framed for murder and you went along with it? Yeah, hard pass."

"You ever heard of suck my fucking balls?" MJ muttered under her breath. Sandra opened her mouth, ready to scold her, but froze under the predatory glare Rafe was shooting her way.

"Hollis? Dead," Rafe broke in smoothly, taking over the conversation. "Genrette? Dead. Downtown? Completely trashed. And guess what, Shoupe? You're on the chopping block. You know what people are saying about you? About how you're screwing this whole case up?"

"Shoupe's the Paul Blart of the OBX," MJ quipped with a smirk. Shoupe shot her a dirty look, and she twirled the ring on her finger again, unbothered.

Rafe stepped closer, his voice lowering to a persuasive growl. "You're gonna lose your job. It's game over, man. Unless..." He paused for effect, letting the weight of his words sink in. "You bring the real killer to justice. You get Groff, you save your career. So what's it gonna be? Some bullshit vandalism and disturbing-the-peace charges against these Pogues? Or the crime of the century solved—by you."

"He's got a point," Cleo said, breaking the silence with a shrug.

"Think about it," Rafe added. "Solve the case. Be a hero. Or sit back and let it all burn while you arrest the wrong people."

Shoupe stared at Rafe, his face a mix of irritation and begrudging consideration. "You know, you're sounding a lot like your old man right now."

Rafe's jaw tightened. "And that's supposed to mean what?"

"It's not a compliment," Shoupe said flatly. His voice dropped to a grumble as he gestured toward the Pogues. "Now I've got another damn Cameron cornering me?"

Rafe shot MJ a look—an almost pleading glance for her silence—before turning toward Shoupe. His steps were measured, deliberate. "Okay, then. How about an added bonus?" Rafe said, his voice calm but edged with an undercurrent of desperation. "When we get back, and you've got Groff locked up, I'll tell you what really happened last summer on the runway. When you found me out there on the tarmac."

The Pogues exchanged uneasy glances, a silent conversation passing between them.

"Alone," Rafe added, his gaze flicking back to MJ with a silent warning. His expression begged her to keep quiet, to let him take the fall. "The real deal. I know you've been dying to know."

Shoupe raised an eyebrow, his posture stiffening. "You wanna know what I want to know, Rafe? I want to know about another little runway incident. One from a while back."

MJ's stomach twisted into knots, her face going pale. The memory hit her like a tidal wave, dragging her under. She had been there with Rafe that night. She had pulled the trigger—putting the sheriff out of her misery with a single, final blow.

Rafe didn't flinch. Instead, he tilted his head, a faint smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "All I'm saying," he said, his voice steady and deliberate, "is that this case, wrapped up in one neat little package, would look really good for an elected official who's in the hot seat right now. Don't you think?"

Shoupe's jaw clenched, the weight of Rafe's words sinking in.

Before he could respond, John B stepped forward, his tone sharp and cutting through the tension. "How about this? We find Groff, we call you. He's all yours. Deal?"

Distant sirens began to wail in the background, growing louder as they drew closer. Shoupe looked between the Pogues and Rafe, his frustration and indecision etched across his face. After a moment, he threw his hands up in defeat.

"I eat shit either way," he muttered, shaking his head. "All right. Fine. Yeah, you're welcome. Go on—before the cavalry gets here. Get out of here!"

"Shoupe—" Sandra started, her voice rising in protest.

"Sandra, don't," Shoupe snapped, cutting her off as his glare silenced her.

As they began heading back toward the boat, Rafe lingered close to MJ. His hand brushed against hers briefly before he gripped her wrist, gently pulling her to a stop just out of earshot of the others.

"Are you okay?" he asked in a low voice, his eyes scanning her face and then dropping to check for any visible injuries. His thumb brushed over her knuckles, which were slightly raw from the earlier confrontation.

MJ pulled her hand back, crossing her arms defensively. "I'm fine, Rafe," she muttered, though her voice wavered slightly.

Rafe tilted his head, clearly unconvinced. His gaze flicked over her again—her windblown hair, the tension in her shoulders, the faint bruise forming on her forearm. "You're shaking," he murmured. "Don't tell me you're fine when I can see you're not."

"Seriously, stop. I don't need you playing nurse right now," MJ snapped, though the edge in her tone didn't quite reach her eyes.

"Too bad," Rafe shot back, his lips curving into a faint smirk that didn't quite mask his concern. He reached out and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering just a moment too long. "You scared the shit out of me, you know that?"

MJ's resolve cracked just slightly, her shoulders slumping as she exhaled a shaky breath. "I'm not the one you should be worried about. Look at the mess we're all in." She gestured toward the Pogues, who were already climbing back onto the boat, their tension palpable even from a distance.

"I'm always worried about you," Rafe said softly, his voice so low it almost got lost in the sound of the waves.

MJ glanced up at him, caught off guard by the raw honesty in his tone. But before she could respond, he nodded toward the boat, his expression hardening again. "Come on. Let's get out of here before Shoupe changes his mind."

Without waiting for a response, Rafe rested his hand on the small of her back, guiding her toward the boat. Even as they climbed aboard, his eyes kept darting toward her, checking and rechecking, as if making sure she wouldn't vanish in the chaos.

────

The engine of the boat rumbled beneath them, a low, steady thrum that vibrated through the deck. The night air was crisp, the sky clear, and the stars glittered above like a blanket of diamonds. The ocean was calm, but the tension between them was anything but.

Rafe sat at the helm, the wheel firmly in his grip as he steered them through the dark water. His presence was a constant force behind her, and she could feel it—felt the pull of him even before he stepped closer. Without a word, he moved behind her, his body pressing against hers, the heat of his chest radiating through her.

MJ's breath caught in her throat as she felt the firm, protective weight of him against her. His hands, steady and sure, settled around her waist to guide the boat. The touch was deliberate—possessive, almost—as though he couldn't bear to let her out of his reach. His proximity made her heart race, a flutter of excitement stirring deep within her as the space between them narrowed.

She could feel his breath on the back of her neck, warm and steady, sending a shiver down her spine. His presence enveloped her completely, as though the world outside no longer mattered.

"You're safe now," Rafe's voice was low, almost a whisper, but it vibrated through her. There was no hesitation in the way he spoke, no question—it was simply a statement. A promise.

MJ's body tensed for a moment, not from fear, but from something else—something deeper, a connection that had been simmering between them for far too long. She didn't know what it was, or why it always seemed to pull her in when he was near, but in that moment, she didn't want to fight it.

"I know," she whispered back, her voice soft, almost vulnerable, betraying the guard she always tried to maintain.

His hands slid gently over her arms, his touch tender yet firm, as though he was offering her both comfort and control. "I won't let anything happen to you," Rafe said, his tone thick with a mix of determination and tenderness that made her chest tighten.

She could feel the warmth of his body against her back, the way he anchored her in a way no one else ever had. MJ tilted her head slightly, her breath shaky as she fought to keep her composure. He was so close, the subtle scent of his cologne mixing with the salty sea air, and for a moment, everything else faded.

"Rafe," she murmured, her voice barely above a breath. She wasn't sure what she was trying to say, but somehow, he seemed to understand.

His hand reached up, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face before his fingers lingered on her jaw, gently tilting her head toward him. The intimacy of the gesture caught her off guard, her pulse quickening as he leaned in just a fraction. Their faces were inches apart now, the tension crackling in the space between them, but neither of them moved away.

"I've always got you," he said, his lips almost grazing her ear, his breath warm against her skin. There was a certain weight to his words—an unspoken promise that carried with it more than just protection.

MJ's heart beat faster, and before she could stop herself, her hand found its way to his, her fingers brushing over his palm. She could feel his breath hitch at the touch, and for a brief moment, they were both frozen in the intimacy of the moment.

He lowered his head until his forehead was resting lightly against hers. The soft, steady rhythm of their breaths mixed together, creating a delicate dance between them.

For a heartbeat, there was nothing else—no past, no complications, no chaos. Just them, suspended in time, as though the world had faded away. Rafe's thumb brushed gently over the back of her hand, the simple touch grounding her in a way nothing else ever had.

"You're the only thing I'm sure about," he murmured, his voice low and raw, like he was sharing something he hadn't said to anyone in a long time. His gaze locked with hers, a fire in his eyes that mirrored the storm in her chest.

MJ's breath caught in her throat, her pulse racing with the weight of his words. She could feel the connection between them deepening, pulling them closer. There was no going back now.

Slowly, she turned toward him, her lips trembling just inches away from his. Her hands moved up to rest on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath her touch.

"I'm not going anywhere," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

Rafe's lips quirked into a slow, knowing smile, and with that, the world seemed to fall away. All that mattered was the way they fit together in that moment, the way his arms wrapped around her like a shield, the way her body pressed into his as if they were meant to be.

And when he kissed her, it was slow, deliberate, the kind of kiss that spoke of promises unspoken, of a love that had always been there, waiting to be realized. In that kiss, everything they had been through, everything they had yet to face, faded away.

The moment was electric, the world around them seeming to slow as Rafe's lips lingered on hers. Just as MJ's hands started to slide up his chest, a loud splash from the side of the boat broke the intimacy between them.

"I just want to talk." John B's voice cut through the air, and both MJ and Rafe turned in unison, their connection faltering but not entirely broken.

John B stood a few feet away, eyebrows raised, eyes darting between the two of them. "We're on a long trek. So let's just.."

Rafe straightened, pulling away from MJ just enough to look at John B. His eyes were filled with a mix of irritation and something else—something deeper, something that told John B to tread carefully. Rafe's hand moved instinctively to the waistband of his jeans, and without a second thought, he lifted his shirt, revealing the black handle of a gun tucked securely in his waistline.

" All right, just so you know, See this? It's a peacemaker, all right?" Rafe said firmly, his voice cool but with an edge of warning. He let the shirt fall back into place, his eyes still on John B. "You guys be cool, I'll be cool."

"So now you want peace?" Pope scoffed, his voice dripping with disbelief.

Rafe glanced between John B and Pope, his jaw tightening. His eyes flickered to the girls standing in the doorway, watching him intently, before he let out a frustrated breath. "I just saved all your asses," he said, his tone laced with sarcasm. "How about a 'thank you'? You know, no good deed goes unpunished." He shook his head, annoyance clear in his expression. "Come on, I'm engaged to your friend. You seriously think I'm gonna fuck her over? Please."

Rafe's voice grew sharper as he stepped forward. "Here's the deal: I don't want any part of your little treasure hunt bullshit. I'm here to find Groff and make sure my fiancée stays the hell out of danger." He turned to John B, his anger palpable. "I'll get you to North Africa, you get me to Groff. Deal?"

"We want the same thing," John B responded, his tone more measured than the others, but still carrying a weight of distrust.

Before Rafe could reply, JJ cleared his throat, stepping forward. "Hey, Rafe," he said, his voice tinged with bitterness. Rafe turned to face him, a cold look in his eyes, but before he could react, JJ's fist collided with his jaw, sending Rafe crashing to the ground.

"Oh, that felt good. Whoo!" JJ exhaled in relief, shaking his hand out.

"JJ, what the fuck?!" MJ screamed, her voice sharp with panic as she rushed to Rafe's side. Her heart pounded in her chest, both for Rafe and for her brother's recklessness. "What the hell are you doing?!"

JJ's face twisted with anger and hurt as he stood tall. "You seriously still trust what he's saying?" His words were cold, biting. "He's using you, MJ. He's gonna drag you down with him."

"JJ—" MJ's voice cracked, her hands trembling as she tried to make sense of the whirlwind of emotions crashing through her. "No, he's not. He's—"

"I mean, honestly," Pope cut in, shooting MJ an apologetic look, "If he didn't do it, I was gonna do it." His voice softened, guilt weighing on his words.

MJ's heart clenched in her chest. The world around her felt like it was spinning out of control, and she could hardly breathe. Her eyes flickered to Rafe, still sprawled on the ground, then to JJ, his anger almost palpable. The hurt in his eyes cut through her, but so did the weight of his words. The fear for her well-being in his voice was undeniable.

"JJ, stop," she pleaded, her voice breaking. "I—" But she couldn't finish her sentence, the panic building in her chest as her thoughts spiraled. This wasn't just about Groff anymore. It was about trust. It was about everything she'd been trying to escape from—everything she'd buried deep down, hoping it would stay that way.

She suddenly felt hands on her, someone pulling her away from the scene, and before she knew it, she was being dragged down a hallway, her body reacting with a shock of terror. She turned to see them dragging Rafe behind her. 

The anger, the tension—it felt suffocating.

"What are you doing?" MJ whispered, her voice frantic. Her pulse hammered in her ears as she was shoved into a small room, the door slamming shut behind her. The feeling of being trapped, isolated, was overwhelming, and she struggled to take a full breath.

MJ's chest tightened, her breath catching in her throat. "No, JJ, please," she begged, her voice cracking. "You don't understand. I—I can't be locked up again. Not like this."

She tried to press her back against the door, her hands shaking as they gripped the cool metal. But the fear inside her was suffocating. Her mind raced, flashing to darker memories, those times when everything had felt out of control. Her pulse pounded in her ears, and her body screamed to escape, to run far away from everything she couldn't handle.

But there was nowhere to go.

"You're back on drugs, aren't you?" Kie's voice cut through the air like a slap. It was cold, accusatory. "I told you—"

MJ recoiled at the words, the sting of them cutting deeper than anything Kie had said before. Her heart hammered in her chest.

"No," she whispered frantically, shaking her head. "No, I'm not on anything. Please, Kie, you have to believe me."

But Kie's eyes were hard, her face twisted with suspicion. "You've been acting weird, MJ," Kie said, her voice trembling with frustration. "I don't trust you right now. I don't know who you are anymore."

The pain in Kie's eyes mirrored her own fear, but MJ couldn't understand why her friend was treating her like this. She had worked so hard to stay clean, to be someone worthy of their trust again. And now this? The betrayal was raw, cutting her deeper than any physical wound.

Pope stepped forward, his face grim. "Kie's right. We can't just let you roam free while you're like this. We need to keep you safe, MJ. We need to lock you up with him." His words were final, leaving no room for argument.

Her heart sank further into her stomach.

"No, please, don't—" MJ's voice was hoarse as she tried to push past them, but she was too weak, too overwhelmed. "I don't belong here. You can't do this."

JJ stood at the door, his eyes locked on the floor, avoiding her gaze. His jaw clenched, and she could see the conflict warring in him. But there was something else in his eyes now—something that made her feel smaller, like a stranger.

With that, the others moved forward, pushing her back into the small room. Her chest tightened, her breath turning shallow as panic settled in. The walls felt like they were closing in on her, suffocating her with every passing second.

They locked the door with a finality that sent shivers through her. The weight of her isolation, of being trapped, overwhelmed her. She slid down the door, her body trembling, and the memories flooded in again.

The pills. The pain. The feeling of being trapped in her own mind. She thought she'd escaped it, but now, here it was, pulling her under again. The nightmares of what she'd done, the haunting images of herself spiraling out of control—they all came rushing back, crashing into her like an unstoppable tide.

She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to force herself to calm down, but the memories of everything she had been running from were too loud. 

"Please, let me out, I didn't do anything." she whispered, her voice breaking under the weight of everything she couldn't outrun.

And there, in that locked room, with no way to escape, MJ felt the full weight of everything she had tried to bury—every betrayal, every fear, every inch of her own doubt.

And in the silence that followed, all she could hear was the pounding of her own heart, a reminder that no matter how much she wanted to escape, she was stuck here. Stuck in this nightmare.

────

Hours later, MJ was curled in a tight ball on the cold floor of the room, drenched in sweat. Her body trembled uncontrollably, the dark memories clawing at her, dragging her deeper into the pit of fear and shame. The room felt like it was suffocating her, the walls closing in tighter with every ragged breath she took. Her fingers were raw from clawing desperately at the door, trying to escape the prison of her mind. Every scrape, every tear that fell, felt like a silent scream for release.

Her heart raced, the panic relentless, drowning her in a tide of overwhelming emotions. The guilt, the confusion, the rejection from her friends—everything was too much. The cold floor beneath her offered no comfort. Every tear that stained her cheek felt like a betrayal, a reminder that she was losing herself again.

She couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. All she could feel was the crushing weight of it all.

Outside the room, the faint sounds of movement echoed through the boat. 

Her nails dug deeper into the door, her eyes bloodshot from the constant, unyielding tears. She wanted to scream, to make it stop, but her voice wouldn't come. All that remained was the deafening silence, broken only by the heavy, shallow breaths she struggled to take.

And then, a low groan broke through the haze of her panic.

She turned her head, her vision blurry from the tears, and saw Rafe, still unconscious on the floor. His hands were tied together, his face bruised and battered. The sight of him stirred something inside her—something between fear and disbelief. What had happened while she was locked away?

Slowly, Rafe stirred, his brow furrowing in pain as he came to. His eyes fluttered open, then snapped shut again as he groaned, clearly disoriented. His hands were bound, his body stiff, and his face was marked with bruises, a testament to the chaos that had unfolded while he was knocked out.

MJ's breath hitched in her throat as she saw him awake, but she couldn't bring herself to move closer. She was too consumed by her own torment, her own fear. Her body still trembled, her mind racing with a million thoughts she couldn't organize.

"Rafe..." Her voice cracked as she whispered his name, the sound of it barely audible above her ragged breathing.

Rafe blinked again, his eyes focusing on her. The panic in her gaze didn't escape him, and his brows furrowed as he tried to push himself up despite his restraints.

"What the hell happened?" His voice was rough, strained, the remnants of unconsciousness still clinging to him. His eyes swept over her, the sight of her curled up in a ball, so broken, made something in his chest tighten.

MJ swallowed hard, her gaze flickering toward him but quickly looking away, unable to meet his eyes for long. She was too raw, too vulnerable. The words stuck in her throat, but she finally forced herself to speak, her voice barely above a whisper. "I... I'm losing it, Rafe. I can't do this. I can't be locked up again. I'm—I'm not who they think I am. I swear."

Her words tumbled out, jagged and panicked, her heart racing faster with each one. She pulled her knees tighter to her chest, trying to shrink away from the storm inside her.

Rafe's face softened as he slowly began to sit up, his body protesting the movement as his bound hands pressed into the ground. The sight of her so broken, so desperate, cut him deeper than any bruise could.

"I know," he said, his voice low and steady despite the pain. "I know you're not like this, MJ. I know you're not the person they think you are. And I swear, I'm gonna get us out of here."

His words were meant to comfort, but they felt like a fragile thread in the storm of her mind. She didn't know if she could trust them, not with everything that had happened. Not with the way they all seemed to be pulling away from her, like they saw her as someone she wasn't. Someone she didn't want to be anymore.

"You're not alone," Rafe added, his eyes never leaving hers. His voice carried a tenderness that she hadn't heard from him in so long. "We'll figure this out. Together. I'm here, MJ. Just breathe."

His words wrapped around her like a lifeline, but she couldn't hold onto them. She was drowning in the fear of losing control, in the fear of losing herself.

Tears blurred her vision as she looked at him, her mind still racing with panic. She knew he was trying to help, but it felt so impossible to believe anything right now.

The door creaked open, and for a moment, MJ's heart skipped a beat. She hadn't expected anyone else. But when she saw Sarah step into the room, her hands holding a small tray with food and a bottle of Advil, she froze.

Sarah's expression was guarded, but there was something in her eyes—something softer, almost like... pity?

She placed the tray carefully on the floor, just out of reach of both Rafe and MJ. Her eyes flicked to MJ, then to Rafe, her gaze lingering on the bruises marking his face. Sarah didn't say anything for a long beat. It was as if she was waiting for something, maybe an apology, maybe a response. But nothing came.

"Great," Rafe scoffed, "Just like I said, no good dead goes unpunished."  

"There's aspirin there if you need it." Sarah said quietly, her voice not unkind, but there was an edge to it, like she was trying to maintain some kind of control.

MJ's throat tightened, and she pulled her knees tighter to her chest. She didn't want to eat, didn't want anything from Sarah, but her body betrayed her. The hunger gnawed at her, the way it always did when she was in a panic. Her mind screamed at her to resist, but her body was too weak, too worn out.

Rafe shifted slightly, wincing as he moved, his hands still bound but his eyes locking onto Sarah with a mixture of suspicion and disbelief. His mind was too foggy, still recovering from the haze of unconsciousness. But he knew one thing for sure—he didn't trust her.

"Asprin? Oh, what? Are you gonna... throw it up my mouth like a seal?"" he said, his voice hoarse, but there was no warmth behind the words. He had a way of sounding like he was thanking someone for doing something they were supposed to do, rather than out of gratitude.

"No one trust you two." Sarah's voice finally broke the silence, the words hanging in the air between them. "And honestly, why would they?"

MJ's hands clenched into fists, her nails digging into her palms as she struggled to steady her breathing. She could feel the panic rising again. The smell of the food only made her more nauseous, the anxiety curling around her chest until she couldn't breathe.

"I was trying to help. I mean, what would Dad say if he saw me like this right now, huh?" Rafe snapped, "At least fucking let MJ out, man."

Sarah stood, taking a step back, but before she left, her gaze softened just a little. "We'll let you off when we get there, but until then, no one trust you two."

With that, she turned and exited the room, the door closing behind her with a soft click. MJ was left in silence, her thoughts whirling like a storm inside her head.

The room felt like it was closing in on her again. The weight of everything—the past, the fear, the uncertainty—was almost unbearable. She had no idea how to climb out of this mess.

But then, she felt it—Rafe's presence beside her, steady and solid despite the mess of his own thoughts and feelings. His arm brushed against hers gently, as though he was trying to make sure she knew he was still there.

She didn't want to lean on him, didn't want to burden him more than she already had. But her body moved toward him instinctively, and before she knew it, she was curled up next to him again. The warmth of his body against hers was comforting in a way she couldn't explain.

────

The storm raged around the boat, the wind howling like a beast and the rain pounding down in sheets. Water was creeping into the lower decks, rising steadily as the boat tilted and rocked in the unforgiving waves. The air was thick with the smell of saltwater and fear, and the creaking of the ship was drowned out by the roar of the storm outside.

Inside the small room where Rafe and MJ were locked up, the air was suffocating. The floodwater was inching closer, creeping under the door, making everything feel even more claustrophobic. Rafe was still bound, his face bruised and raw, eyes flicking over to MJ, who was curled up on the floor, trembling with fear. The boat's movements made everything feel like it was spinning out of control, amplifying her panic.

Her breath came in ragged gasps as she pressed her back against the wall, her fingers digging into her arms as though trying to ground herself. She was soaked, her clothes drenched from the storm and the anxiety that she couldn't shake. The fear was overwhelming, each gust of wind, each flash of lightning, pulling her deeper into herself.

Rafe watched her helplessly, his own chest tight with a mix of anger and concern. He hated seeing her like this—vulnerable, terrified, and trapped. He had no way of helping her, bound as he was. His mind raced, trying to figure out how to get them both out of this mess. The storm outside was flooding the boat, and they were running out of time.

"MJ, look at me," he said, his voice rough but desperate. "You're going to be okay. Just stay with me, alright? We need to get out of here before—" But his words were cut off by a loud bang and the sound of water sloshing under the door.

She couldn't hear him. She couldn't focus on anything but the storm, the flooding water, and the darkness closing in around her. Her nails were raw from clawing at the door, and her mind felt like it was spiraling into chaos. The storm outside had flooded the lower levels of the boat, and now the water was pushing against the door, inching closer to where she was.

She could feel herself slipping. Every breath was harder to take. The fear, the suffocating panic, was too much.

"Please," she whispered, barely able to hear herself over the storm. "I can't—I can't breathe."

Rafe's eyes softened as he strained against his restraints, the chains clinking. He couldn't bear seeing her like this. "MJ," he said, his voice low and soothing, "You're not alone, alright? We're gonna get out of here."

The door slammed open then, and Kie rushed in, her face drawn with worry. She barely glanced at Rafe, her focus immediately shifting to MJ.

"Come on, MJ, we need to move," Kie said, her voice urgent but kind as she knelt beside MJ. "The boat's flooding, we don't have much time."

MJ's eyes darted to Kie, her body stiff with fear. "I can't—I can't—I don't..." Her voice broke, and her hands went to her face, pressing against her eyes as though trying to shut the world out.

Kie's heart broke at the sight of her, but she didn't have time for softness now. "MJ, listen to me," she said, her tone firmer now. "I'm not leaving you here, okay? But we need to go. Now."

The boat groaned, its structure protesting the rising water. Kie grabbed MJ's arms, gently pulling her to her feet, though the younger girl resisted, her legs shaking. Kie wasn't going to give up. She wasn't going to leave MJ behind.

Meanwhile, Rafe had managed to work his hands free, his bruised face a mask of determination. "Kie, get her out of here," he said, his voice rough. "Take her to the upper deck. Now."

"I'm not leaving you here, Rafe," Kie snapped, glancing over her shoulder at him, the panic evident in her eyes. The storm had torn the boat apart, and the water level was rising dangerously fast. The ship was sinking.

"I'll find another way out," Rafe said, his voice low but resolute. "Just get her to safety. Please."

Kie didn't hesitate. She helped MJ stumble toward the door, her movements quick but gentle, aware of how fragile MJ seemed in this moment. The water was rising quickly, lapping at their ankles now as they made their way through the boat. Every step was a struggle, but they pushed forward.

As they reached the stairs leading to the upper deck, Kie's heart pounded in her chest. The storm had ripped apart the boat's structure, and the rain kept coming down harder, making it almost impossible to see. She pulled MJ up the stairs, trying not to look back, but the boat was becoming increasingly unstable. The water was rising quickly, and they were running out of time.

"Come on, MJ," Kie urged, her voice strained. "We're almost there."

But just as they reached the top of the stairs, a massive wave hit, crashing against the side of the boat, and both girls were thrown off balance. Kie barely managed to catch herself, but MJ was thrown toward the railing. Kie lunged forward, grabbing her just in time to keep her from being swept overboard.

"Hold on to me!" Kie shouted over the storm's roar, her hands gripping MJ tightly. "Don't let go."

MJ's eyes were wide with terror as the boat rocked violently again. The water was now waist-deep, and the storm seemed to have no end in sight. She was shaking uncontrollably, her body frozen in fear.

"Please, Kie," she gasped, her voice barely audible. "I can't..."

"You can," Kie said firmly, her grip tightening. "I'm not leaving you. We're gonna make it through this."

Just as Kie pulled MJ closer, another wave crashed, and the boat tilted severely, sending both girls tumbling toward the edge. Kie's heart raced as she tried to hold onto MJ, but the water was too strong.

"Kie!" MJ screamed, her hands desperately clinging to Kie's arm.

Meanwhile, below deck, Rafe had managed to break through the door of the room. The boat was half-submerged in water, and the storm's fury had turned everything into chaos. He didn't care about the storm, or the wreckage—it was MJ he was worried about.

He rushed to the upper deck, his mind racing with panic as the waves crashed higher, the boat tilting at a dangerous angle. He couldn't find Kie and MJ, and that panic was only growing worse.

"I've got to find them," he muttered to himself as he stumbled through the chaos. The storm was blinding, but he didn't stop.

His heart dropped when he saw Kie's figure on the deck, struggling to stand, her hand reaching desperately toward the water. And beside her, MJ was slipping, about to fall overboard.

The boat tilted violently again, sending a massive wave crashing over the deck. The storm was merciless, its force tossing the boat around like a toy in the ocean. Sarah, her face pale with fear, watched in horror as Kie and MJ fought to stay on their feet. The deck was a mess of debris, and the water kept rising, splashing up against the railings.

"Sarah! Get back!" Kie screamed, trying to steady herself as the boat rocked again.

But Sarah wasn't listening. Her instinct to protect her friends overtook her fear. Without a second thought, she ran toward Kie and MJ, reaching out to grab onto them, her voice frantic as she shouted over the roar of the storm, "I'm not leaving you!"

MJ, her face contorted with panic, was struggling to stay upright, her arms flailing as the water swirled around her. "Sarah, Kie—I'm gonna—!" she cried, her words drowned out by the sound of the wind.

Sarah reached out just as the boat lurched again, sending both MJ and Sarah crashing into the unforgiving water. A wave, higher than the others, surged over the side, dragging them both beneath the surface. Sarah's scream was muffled by the storm as she was pulled away from the boat.

"No!" Kie shouted, reaching desperately for them but too late.

On the deck, chaos broke out as the scene unfolded. Rafe, who had been scrambling to get his bearings, saw it all. His heart stopped in his chest. The storm had already taken so much, and now it was trying to take the people he cared about.

"Rosemary!" Rafe screamed, his voice raw with panic as he lurched toward the side of the boat, desperation and fury overwhelming him. "No! I'm not losing her!"

John B, who had been trying to keep his own footing in the chaos, immediately rushed toward Rafe. "Rafe, stop! We need to think, this boat's sinking, we're all gonna die if we don't get out of here!"

But Rafe wasn't hearing him. His mind was consumed by the image of Sarah and Rosemary.

disappearing beneath the waves. The boat rocked again, a violent jolt throwing him off balance. Without thinking, he lunged toward the water's edge, his chest heaving with panic.

"I'm going after them!" Rafe snarled, struggling against John B's grip. "Let go of me!"

"Rafe, stop!" John B shouted, holding him back with everything he had. "You can't save them if you drown too!"

But Rafe wasn't listening. His mind was a whirlwind of emotions, and his entire body was a coiled spring ready to explode. "I'm not just gonna stand here and do nothing!" he shouted. "Let me go! Sarah—MJ—they're out there, I have to help them!"

As Rafe fought against John B's hold, JJ was already on the move, his instincts kicking in. Without hesitation, he dove into the water, his body disappearing beneath the surface in one smooth motion. His heart pounded in his chest as he cut through the waves, every second feeling like an eternity.

"JJ, no!" Kiara screamed, her voice trembling as she reached toward him, but he was already too far.

John B looked helplessly at the chaos around him, torn between holding back Rafe and keeping his eyes on the water, searching for any sign of his friends. The storm seemed to swallow them all.

The storm had intensified beyond anything they had imagined. The once turbulent waves had grown massive, rising like mountains and crashing into the boat with deafening force. Each hit of the waves pushed the boat further off course, throwing them into the chaos of the storm's fury.

"JJ!" John B shouted, panic creeping into his voice, his eyes desperately searching the sea. "JJ, get back here!" But the winds howled louder than his voice, and the ocean swallowed every word, drowning out his cries. JJ's figure, visible for only a moment, was lost in the churning waves as he fought to reach Sarah and MJ.

Rafe's face twisted with frustration, his eyes locked on the water. "Damn it," he muttered under his breath, his body trembling with the urgency to get out there. His fingers were curled into fists, but it was as though the storm itself was keeping him prisoner, his every move halted by the fear and the danger surrounding them.

Suddenly, he wrenched his arm free from John B's grip, his muscles strained and his chest heaving with the urge to act. "Let me go!" he shouted, his voice raw. His mind raced, but his body was controlled by instinct. His heart was pounding in his chest, his mind screaming at him to get to them.

But before he could make another move, John B grabbed him again, pulling him back from the edge.

"You're not helping anyone like this!" John B snapped, his face pale with fear, sweat pouring down his brow as the storm raged around them. "We're not losing anyone else, Rafe. Not today."

Rafe's eyes were burning with anger and panic, his whole body trembling. His fists clenched at his sides, his breath coming out in heavy, labored gasps. His eyes remained locked on the water, his vision blurred by the pouring rain, but he could still see it. The figures of JJ, Sarah, and MJ, swallowed by the waves. His stomach dropped as he realized they were being consumed by the ocean, pulled deeper into the storm.

"Please, no!" Rafe's voice cracked, desperate. His anger and fear poured out of him in a single, guttural scream that seemed to tear through the air. His legs nearly gave out under him as he fought against John B's grip, his heart breaking in real-time as he saw them lost in the violent chaos of the water.

And then, like a nightmare unfolding in slow motion, the waves seemed to rise even higher, growing monstrous as they crashed against the boat. JJ's figure reappeared from beneath the waves, his body tossed around by the violent sea, struggling desperately to stay afloat. His arms were flailing, trying to keep Sarah and MJ close to him, but they were losing ground. The water was pulling them under faster than they could fight it.

For a moment, it seemed like everything slowed down. The boat rocked violently again, nearly tipping over as another massive wave crashed against them. The cries for help were swallowed by the storm, the entire world consumed by the noise of the ocean, the wind, the terror. The boat creaked and groaned under the pressure, the edges of the wooden frame splintering.

"JJ! MJ! Sarah!" John B screamed into the storm, his heart in his throat, but his words were lost. There was nothing he could do. The sea had taken them, and there was no escape.

────

The morning after the storm, the air was heavy with the weight of their loss. The wreckage of the boat was strewn across the beach, but the true wreckage—the absence of MJ, JJ, and Sarah—was still sinking in. The Pogues sat in tense silence, their faces hollow with grief, but there was no mistaking the underlying anger. None of them spoke about the storm. None of them spoke about their lost friends. The silence was more deafening than any words could have been.

Rafe stood at the edge of the beach, his eyes locked on the horizon, his fists clenched tightly at his sides. His breathing was ragged, and the shaking of his hands gave away the deep turmoil that was raging inside him. He had lost so much—MJ, Sarah, and JJ—but the rest of the group seemed too consumed by their own pain to notice his.

John B, Kie, Pope, and the others seemed focused on everything except Rafe. They couldn't look at him—not after everything he'd done. And yet, they seemed to have forgotten that they weren't the only ones hurting.

"You okay?" Pope's voice broke the silence, but it was laced with a hint of sarcasm.

Rafe's gaze snapped to him, his jaw tightening. "Do I look okay to you?"

"Just making sure," Pope muttered, turning his eyes back to the water as if he couldn't bear to meet Rafe's gaze.

Rafe felt his blood boil, but he didn't say anything. Instead, he stood there, the grief weighing heavily on his chest. He didn't even know where to start. His head was spinning, his thoughts racing, but no one cared. No one cared that he was just as lost as they were.

"Hey, look," John B finally spoke, his voice sharp. "You should probably keep your distance right now. None of us are in the mood to deal with your crap."

Rafe's eyes flicked to John B, his anger flaring. "I'm grieving too, you know. I lost her—MJ. My fiancée." His voice was low, tight with emotion, but it only made the others look at him like he was just another problem to ignore.

"You're the one who caused all this in the first place," Kie snapped, her voice bitter. "If you hadn't dragged us into your mess, they'd still be here."

Rafe flinched as though she'd slapped him, his hands tightening into fists. "I was trying to protect them. Trying to keep them alive. You think I wanted this? You think I'm okay with them being gone?" He took a step forward, his voice rising with the rawness of his grief. "I lost them, too."

"You lost them?" Kie's voice was laced with disbelief. "You were the one who got us into this situation in the first place, and now you want to play the victim? You're not a victim, Rafe. You're the reason they're gone."

John B nodded, his gaze full of judgment. "It's not about what you lost, Rafe. It's about what you did. And you sure as hell didn't do anything to help us."

The words hit Rafe like a slap, but he didn't back down. His chest heaved with frustration. "I was trying to save them, all right? I didn't make them disappear into the ocean. That was the storm. That wasn't me."

"Yeah, well, you weren't exactly helping," Pope muttered, not bothering to look up. "So stop acting like you were some hero in all this. You weren't."

Rafe took a deep breath, trying to steady himself, but the words kept coming, the rage and pain mixing together into something dark and powerful. "You don't get it, do you?" His voice was low but venomous. "You're too busy blaming me to even notice what I've lost. I didn't sign up for this. I didn't want to be part of your little treasure hunt. I was here because I wanted to protect her, and now...now she's gone."

His voice cracked on the last word, and he hated himself for it, but he couldn't stop. It felt like everything he'd tried to hold together—his anger, his grief—was falling apart in front of them.

"None of us wanted this," John B said, his voice cold. "But you've never been part of the team, Rafe. You've always been a liability. We don't need your grief right now. We need to figure out what's next."

Rafe stood there, the weight of their words crashing down on him, suffocating him. He didn't know what to say. How could he explain the emptiness he felt without them turning it into a weapon to use against him? How could he mourn MJ when all they saw was a man who had caused them pain?

"You don't care, do you?" Rafe's voice was almost a whisper now, the rawness of his emotions making it harder to breathe. "You think you're the only ones who lost someone. But she was my fiancée, my future. And you're just gonna dismiss that? Fine. Do it. But don't you dare act like I'm the only one to blame for this."

There was silence then, as Rafe turned and walked away, his body shaking with the weight of everything that had happened, everything he was too angry and hurt to process.

But they didn't stop him. They didn't even look back.

The ocean roared in the distance, but it was silent where Rafe stood. And as the Pogues whispered amongst themselves, dismissing him, Rafe realized something he hadn't wanted to admit before. The people he thought he could rely on—the people he thought would understand—were just as lost as he was.

────

The day after the storm, the grief still hung thick in the air, like a dense fog that refused to lift. The group had gathered at the shoreline, staring out at the vast, empty ocean, each person lost in their own thoughts. Their bodies ached from the loss, from the fear, from the hopelessness that had washed over them with the waves. No one had the energy to speak. It felt like the world had paused in mourning, leaving them alone with the weight of everything they'd lost.

The wind carried a chill, but it was nothing compared to the emptiness that tugged at their hearts. They were all too broken to think clearly. No one knew what to say. No one knew what to do.

That's when they saw them.

At first, they thought it was a mirage—figures moving in the distance, blurred by the crashing waves and the fog rolling in. But as they squinted against the harsh light, the figures became clearer.

"Is that...?" Kie whispered, her breath catching in her throat. Her heart skipped in disbelief.

"Who the hell is that?" Pope asked, his voice barely above a whisper. He squinted, leaning forward, his eyes not fully believing what he was seeing.

And then, it clicked.

It was Sarah. It was MJ.

And it was JJ.

A collective gasp filled the air, as if the universe had briefly stopped, allowing them a moment of disbelief and wonder.

Sarah was the first to break free from the group, her feet pounding against the sand as she ran toward John B. Tears streamed down her face, but a smile—bright, joyous, utterly disbelieving—spread across her face as she reached him.

"John B!" she cried, her voice cracking as she threw herself into his arms, wrapping her arms around him desperately, as if to make sure this moment was real.

John B stumbled back, his heart racing, and he caught her, holding her tightly as though he could never let her go. He couldn't believe it. His mind still hadn't caught up with what he was seeing, what was happening. He clutched her with an intensity that spoke volumes, his chest heaving in relief.

"I thought I lost you... I thought you were gone," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

Sarah pulled back slightly, her face streaked with tears as she looked up at him. "I'm here, John B. I'm here."

Meanwhile, Rafe's heart pounded wildly in his chest as his gaze locked onto MJ. The instant their eyes met, everything else faded. It didn't matter that they had just gone through hell, that they had nearly drowned, that they'd lost everything.

He could barely believe she was alive. He could barely breathe.

"Rosemary..." Rafe's voice cracked, and his feet moved instinctively, his legs shaking as he closed the distance between them.

She was stumbling toward him, her face pale and drawn, but her eyes were filled with the same fire he had seen in them before. She looked like she had been through hell and back, but the relief that washed over her face when she saw him made his chest tighten. He reached for her, pulling her into his arms with a force that spoke of everything he couldn't say.

"I thought I lost you," Rafe breathed into her hair, his voice raw and full of emotion. His hands were shaking as he cupped her face, forcing her to look at him, to prove to himself that she was real.

"I'm here," she whispered, her voice shaky but full of love. She raised a hand to touch his cheek, as if making sure he was real, too. Her fingers traced the contours of his face, memorizing him, as if she couldn't believe that they had found each other again.

"I never stopped looking for you," Rafe murmured, his forehead resting against hers as he closed his eyes. The storm had taken so much from them—had tried to take her, had tried to tear them apart—but in this moment, with her in his arms, he felt like he could breathe again. Like everything he'd been fighting for was finally worth it.

"I couldn't let you go," she whispered, her voice breaking as the tears fell, mixing with the saltwater that still clung to her skin. She clung to him tighter, as though she never wanted to let go, never wanted to lose him again.

Their lips met in a kiss that was desperate and full of longing, a kiss that spoke of everything they had been through and everything they still had to fight for. The world around them blurred—there was nothing but the two of them, their hearts beating in sync, their souls finding each other once more.

For a moment, it was just them—Rafe and MJ—holding onto each other as if the universe had given them a second chance.

And in the distance, John B and Sarah shared their own embrace, a reunion fueled by the same desperate relief, the same fierce love. The storm had tested them all. It had torn at the fabric of their world, threatening to tear them apart. But they were alive, and they were together. And in this moment, that was all that mattered.

As they pulled apart, everyone turned to look at JJ. 

"Look, man, that's my sister and I was the closest one, all right? That's it. I ain't no hero." JJ said as John B ran up and gave him a big hug.

"Besties for life," John B mumbled into the hug.

────

authors note:

Okay, I was wrong. There is one more chapter; otherwise, this one would be over 30k words, and it's already at 10k—way too long. Before I publish the last chapter, are there any loose ends you'd like to see? What fate do you think is going to happen to MJ? I'm so anxious to upload the last chapter - but I'm also excited to finish (temporarily?) her story and move on to some of my other books.