GHOST TOWN - JJ Maybank

EPILOGUE

"Mhm," JJ moaned, his voice low and pleased as he closed his eyes briefly, savoring the bite. "I never thought I'd taste this again."

Across the small, weathered table, a quiet laugh slipped from Avery, soft and warm like a breeze at dusk. A smile pulled at her lips, unhurried and fond. She gave a small nod, a gesture loaded with unspoken understanding. She hadn't thought they'd ever make it back here either — not to this moment, not to this table, not to something that felt so much like normal again.

They were seated at a table tucked into the far end of the patio outside the Wreck, the old restaurant still standing proud despite time and storm and change. Strings of dim golden lights hung above them like stars caught in nets, swaying gently in the warm coastal air. Their glow cast flickering halos over the plates in front of them — generous heaps of buttery lobster, shells cracked open, steam still curling up in delicate spirals.

A bottle of beer sat chilled in front of each of them, courtesy of Anna and Mike, who'd insisted. The glass sweated with condensation, catching the glow of the lights like tiny prisms. The soft hum of music drifted out from the restaurant's open door — something low and bluesy that pressed gently into the background, just enough to keep their thoughts from getting too loud.

Avery leaned back slightly, letting the warmth of the night settle into her skin. The air was thick with salt and summer, and it had painted her cheeks with a soft blush, not unlike JJ's — though his was more from the sun than the beer. A touch too pink at the tops of his shoulders, where the sun had found him unprotected again.

She'd tried — God, she'd tried — to make him wear enough sunscreen. But between the construction work, the long hours, and JJ being JJ, it didn't surprise her that he hadn't listened. He never did when he was distracted. And these days, he was always distracted — with rebuilding, with repaying debts that no one asked him to repay, with carving out something real from everything they'd nearly lost.

That near-death experience had split everything wide open for them.

They'd stood at a crossroads. Go after the Crown, or go home?

It hadn't been an easy choice. Not when JJ, Avery, and Pope's freedom was tied to the outcome. Not when the future of Poguelandia — their dream, their stitched-together slice of paradise — hung in the balance. But safety wasn't something they could take lightly anymore, not after almost losing JJ. No one wanted to roll those dice again.

In the end, it was Cleo and Rafe who decided the Crown was worth chasing. They argued, of course. JJ had fought them on it, hard. He didn't like the idea of splitting up — didn't trust the math of risk versus reward. But it was Rafe, surprisingly, who convinced them. He reminded them all what was at stake, what they'd lose if they walked away. And even he agreed — JJ and Sarah had to stay behind.

So it was Kie and Pope who joined the chase, while JJ, Avery, John B, and Sarah laid low, tucked into the safety of a borrowed house offered by a local who owed someone a favor. JJ was still healing — inside and out. Avery and John B worked from the shadows, poking around, asking questions, trying to track down whispers of Groff.