All Chapters of Lost Between the Tides: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

I woke up on something hard, damp, and lumpy with a sharp pain in my right elbow and my butt. As I tried to sit up, it became glaringly apparent that my head hurt too, like I'd somehow ended up on the wrong side of a baseball bat.With a groan, I tried to pull myself into a sitting position, pressing my hands against the cold, gritty rock surface beneath me.The sound of water echoed all around me, bouncing off the walls of... wherever I was.What the hell…?I looked around, trying to figure it out. Trying to make it make sense. But it was dark.Beside me, a sliver of white light caught my eye. It was my phone, the flashlight on and its brightness trying to escape the confines of the rocky slab that it lay on.As I picked it up, the light blinded me and nausea hit me like a punch to the gut. My head swam and spun and I nearly dropped my phone again in my desperation to make the light go away.I pressed the flashlight against my leg to mute the glare, though the screen itself wasn't mu

“I… I don’t know.” I admitted, rubbing the back of my head as I felt another wave of nausea creeping up on me. “I think I was with… there was a group… my friends or something… but I…” I trailed off, the memory hazy and slipping through my fingers like sand.The man in the rowboat exchanged a glance with the one who’d spoken, shaking his head almost imperceptibly.I didn't understand what was going on. This was weird. Too weird.The Irish one scowled and stepped toward me with a narrowed gaze. He reached back, gesturing for something, and the man in the boat handed him the glowing orange lantern I had seen in the distance.He lifted it and the light washed over me, too bright and too sharp. I winced, shrinking back and looking away, my hand covering my mouth and my stomach lurching as it threatened to heave up my lunch right then and there.My head throbbed like it had a heart of its own. My eyes felt like they were going to pop out of my skull with all the pressure building up behind

Time passed strangely. Maybe it was the darkness. Maybe it was my head trauma. Maybe I was dying and this was just how it felt.I slouched down on a wooden box, gently petting my new furry friend who I had decided to call Oreo. He was soft and warm, a stark contrast to this new wooden cave I found myself in. It was cold down here and smelled, well, kinda bad.There were boxes and barrels stacked up and tied down with rope. I was curious to check what was in them, but too lethargic to actually do anything about it. I wanted to sleep but I wasn't sure whether I should. Couldn't you die like that? Like, sleeping after a head trauma... couldn't that land you in a coma?But still... I was tired, and the cat was warm and comforting, and I didn't have much else to do to distract myself. My phone had no signal down here, so it's not like TikTok was an option.I think I must have dozed off, because suddenly, a blinding light appeared, searing through my closed eyes. It was even worse when I sna

My stomach cramped and my head throbbed. The sun was blinding, and the ship swayed from side to side like some kind of fun theme park ride. Only, this wasn't fun. This was hell.It didn't feel as rough up here as it had in the room with all the crates and barrels, but that was like saying that fire wasn't as hot as the sun. Accurate, but they would both melt your skin off.I heard the sound of heavy footsteps approaching with determination, but I didn't care. I was still hanging over the railing, dry heaving now. My knees had buckled beneath me, but I hung on, staring out over the water like it was the last thing I might ever see."God's wounds! Who opened the bloody hatch?!"It was the captain, thundering towards me like a man on a mission.So no shift change then... the fucker just left me down there because... Well, fuck knows why. A sick joke? A power play? A—I retched again. This time, something came out... bitter yellow bile.The footsteps stopped beside me, but I couldn't brin

(Flynn's POV)The sun baked my neck, but the sea breeze cut sharp. I paced the quarterdeck, watching the crew below in that restless stir that always comes with a fresh breeze and open water—long before any routine sets in. The smell of the docks still clung to some of them. Cleaner shirts, damp hair, and the sharp, sour tang of port-side perfume from the women they’d promised things to before disappearing.I was halfway to snapping at a deckhand for miscoiling a line when Owen appeared, making his way toward me with that look on his face—the one that usually meant he was about to piss in my rum.“I take it this is about the girl,” I said before he could open his mouth.He gave a slow nod. “Figured ye’d want to know what the lads are saying.”“I can guess what the lads are saying,” I muttered, already scowling.He stepped up beside me and leaned against the rail like he was just enjoying the view, then cast a glance back toward the main deck. I didn’t need to follow it. I already knew