All Chapters of Lost Between the Tides: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

(Flynn's POV) It felt like we were going backwards. I wanted answers. Real ones. Not some fanciful tale of knocked heads and vanished companions. I pressed on, hoping to catch her out another way. Her story sounded rehearsed, and she clearly had no mind to stray from it. "Where are ye from?" I asked, hoping it might lead me somewhere more fruitful. "America," she said curtly. “Ye mean the colonies?” I went on, instantly intrigued. No one from the colonies would say something so vague as "America". Did she mean Spanish America? She didn't look Spanish, but that proved little. Perhaps she worked with them... She laughed, like I'd said something daft. “The colonies?!” she repeated, her voice laced with that strange, bitter sarcasm of hers. “No, dude. I’m from California,” she added, like that alone was meant to settle the matter.&nbs

(Morgan's POV)I was still trying to make it make sense.Maybe it really was some kind of elaborate prank. Maybe these guys were all just really good actors. But then what about the infirmary? Why hadn't they taken me to a hospital? Why hadn't they called 911? I should have been on a goddamn IV drip, but they'd just taken me to the infirmary and called it a day! And then what about the surgeon? Why hadn't he worn gloves when he examined me? God, I don't think he even washed his hands! At bare minimum, they should have given me proper medical care, right? Even if this was all fake, they wouldn't have risked my health like that. It was probably against some law or something.So, again, I was back to the fact that this had to be real.But it couldn't be...I was at war with myself, arguing back and forth, looking for any excuse not to believe it. It was un-fucking-believable, after all.And, if this was all real, what was I going to do? How was I going to get back home?Maybe they could j

(Flynn's POV)I followed Owen out of the cabin. He clearly had thoughts he didn’t want the lass to hear — and I was damned curious to know what they were.It was late afternoon now, the sun low on the horizon and the sky blazed in hues of orange and pink. A good sign for the weather, at least.“Well?” I asked, as he stopped near the railing at a quieter spot, out of earshot of most of the crew.“I say we ransom her,” he said plainly.I hadn’t expected that. The lass was clearly touched, babbling nonsense, and giving fanciful answers that were beyond belief. I'd thought he might say we ought to cut her loose, or take a firmer hand.But no... Ransom, he said.He must've caught the look on my face, and before I could speak, he went on."If she's from where she says she's from—"But I cut in, needing to point out the obvious. "But she's not! She pointed to some barren stretch of land! There's no way—"He interrupted my rant.“Aye, it’s a barren stretch on the map, but that don’t mean no o

(Morgan's POV)The two men stepped back into the room. Owen was wearing an eager smile, but the Captain—Flynn—I'd heard Owen call him, was not. He wasn't scowling, for a change, but he didn't look happy, and I wasn't sure what to make of that."What are ye doin' on my bed?!" Flynn blurted, seemingly horrified by my intrusion."Sorry, I just... I..." I trailed off, uncertain what to say."Oh, I was just doing some light reading while I waited for you. Checking publication dates and what were possibly your very classified ship logs. Nothing to worry about. I swear I'm not a spy."Abso-fucking-lutely not."Off with ye!" he barked, making a swooping movement with his arm like one might do when shooing a dog from a couch.Well, that was kinda rude...I pulled myself to my feet and began the tiresome journey back to my straw excuse for a bed on the floor."Well, lass, I've good news for ye," Owen began, taking me by the thankfully unburned elbow and urging me along. He was clearly very eage

(Morgan's POV)Flynn strode out of the cramped, wooden cabin again, entirely done with the situation. Done with me. Owen scurried behind him, but not without giving me a solemn nod on his way out. I wasn't sure whether it was just a polite, gentlemanly gesture, or whether it had something to do with the revelation of my surname.The door clicked shut behind them, and I breathed a quiet sigh of relief. My muscles were still tense though, clinging to the remnants of adrenaline and fear that had been coursing through me since the moment I opened my eyes. Fuck, probably since the moment I realized I was on a fucking ship!This was a mess. Not only would their ransom note be met by deafening fucking silence, but it turns out that I had the pleasure of sharing a surname with some famous pirate overlord.Great... just great.Was I even related to Calico Jack? If I was, I didn't know about it. I'd never done the whole 23andMe thing. Never cared to. I didn't really care who my ancient ancestor