Cutlass Anne

Cutlass Anne - Chapter Thirty-One

Chapter Thirty-one

"Anne?" a voice called from below.

I peered over the rail at Christopher. "What?"

"He's starting to wake up."

"He is?"

"Yes."

I ran down the steps to the room and saw Flynn lying on the bed. He was moaning and moving back and forth. I sat on the edge of the bed and looked down at his beautiful face. He looked to be in such pain, but the color remained and the fever had not returned.

"Flynn?" I asked lightly.

His eyes fluttered open momentarily before sliding shut again.

"Christopher, what's wrong with him?" I looked to the man for answers. Any answer would have done.

"The medication is just wearing off, I believe. He should be fine in just a bit."

"Is he going to be okay?" I didn't take my eyes off him.

"He will be just fine." Christopher lay a wet cloth on Flynn's head.

"What is that for?"

"To help wake him. It's cold."

"Do you think it will work?"

"It won't hurt," he muttered.

I sat beside Flynn brushing the damp hair out of his face. It was so strange feeling such a way for a man I had met but a few weeks prior. I found myself caring for him and worrying about his well-being. Since mother's death the only other person I really cared for was Jane. This, I suppose, could be the reason I was so desperate to find her. My heart ached as I watched this remarkable man in such a helpless state. He lay there, shirtless, with a bandage over his wound.

The guilt I was feeling was far worse than anything else. I felt absolutely terrible and remorseful. Had I not left him, this would not have happened. If I had not started this, he would not have been shot. All I could do was sit and wait.

"Miss?" Scully asked, coming into the room.

"Yes?"

He wrung a rag in his hands and licked his lips nervously. "Andrew is asking to see you."

"I do not want to see nor do I want to speak to that man."

"Talk to him, cap'n. He may have information we could use," Scully pushed.

Sighing heavily I stood and walked toward the door.

"Where are you going?" Christopher peered at me.

"To talk to the good doctor about what the hell happened in Port Royal."

The men stopped what they were doing and watched as I walked below deck. Even Cooky stopped what he was doing to watch as I went into the cargo hold. Scully followed close behind.

"I want to go in alone." I opened the door at the back of the room.

"Are you sure, cap'n?"

"Aye." I shut the door behind me before anyone could question me again.

The stairs creaked as I walked down them.

"Who's there?" a hoarse voice called out.

"Why did you do it, Andrew?"

"I did nothing," he called out to me.

"You had me drugged, tied up, and almost killed Flynn. Are you really one of John Jacks's men?"

"No."

"Then what happened last night? Why did the surgeon in Port Royal tell me that you almost killed Flynn?" I asked. Anger threatened to escape; I actually was not sure why I was holding it back. If anybody deserved my wrath it was Andrew. He almost killed Flynn. He had me kidnapped.

"I had no part in any of that," he choked out.

"I do not believe you."

"Anne, please. I have done nothing but the best for this entire adventure of yours."

"No you have not. You have done nothing to help. You have lied to me the entire time." I stepped in front of the man.

His face was lit up by the few torches that were around the room. Blood was dried on the side of his head, and his eye was swollen.

"Tell me about the men who took me last night." Anger edged my voice. I could feel my body shaking as I watched him.

"I don't know anything about that."

"Stop lying to me, Andrew!" I yelled at him. "Do you know how easy it would be for me to kill you right here and now? Then we can just toss you to Davy Jones's locker. Nobody would know. Nobody would miss you."

He looked at me aghast and taken aback. I narrowed my eyes at him and clenched my jaw. After a few minutes of uncomfortable silence, he sighed heavily.

"Fine."

"It's true?"

"Somewhat. I swear I'm not working with John Jacks."

"Then what happened?" The anger gave way to pleading. I wanted to believe him. I like Andrew. I wanted him to be a good man.

"I saw you stumble out of the pub. I just figured you had too much to drink, and then I saw the men step out of the shadows. I watched for a few minutes until they carried you into the abandoned house across the street. I followed. They had taken you somewhere inside. I hid downstairs and when they came back, you were not with them. I figured they had killed you."

"So you did not even bother looking for me?" I asked, stunned.

"That was a lapse in judgment."

"Forgive my language, but for a doctor, you are a fucking idiot."

"Anyway, when they came down with your sword I lost my temper," he explained.

"That is what happens when you lose your temper?"

"I am not proud of my actions."

"What were you doing to Flynn?" I asked.

"Trying to reduce the infection. I had to break into the surgeon's office to retrieve supplies, which is why I took so long."

"That would also explain why he was so cross."

Andrew attempted to shrug his shoulders. "Sorry for all the trouble."

I took a few steps back and sat on the bottom stair. I had no idea what to think or even if I should believe him. Everything was stacked up against him, but his reasoning was fairly solid. I got up and walked away.

"Where are you going?" he called.

I did not respond. I did not know what to say. I shut the heavy door behind me and continued until I was back on deck. The men had prepared the ship to leave the bay. I bit my lip, staring out to the sea. The sun was beginning to sink into the distance, and the winds were picking up.

"Let's go for a ride, men!" I shouted.

A chorus of cheers rang out; there was so much tension onboard they were happy to be leaving Port Royal. Most pirates were uneasy being around so many of the king's soldiers. They did seem to blend in better, considering they were not on a pirate ship.