Warning! This chapter contains a couple paragraphs of adult situations at the end!

Chapter 12- The Oncoming Storm

We followed the map as best we could given the winds weren't in our favor and the engine wasn't sounding too healthy. One of the fuel cells was struggling to keep up with the pace I was trying to set. I'd need to fix it soon. I figured we'd head for port in the Bahamas instead of looking for the treasure first. Besides, my side was nearly healed but now my leg hurt. I was slowly limping along but at least this time the crew didn't think the Saints had shot me. I'd told them it was Juan and then that the Saints killed him. That made them heroes of sorts.

"How many false leads are we gonna follow this time Jack?" Joey asked. We were sitting in the navigation room looking at the screens. I'd spent the morning steering and sniffing at the wind. It didn't smell right so I'd gone upstairs to bug Joey for a while.

"This isn't a false lead. The book told me where to go and nothing fools that book," I reminded him. My book had a tendency to guide my life along. If I needed something to fence in Brazil, the book would have a buried treasure off the coast filled with Portuguese coins. If I needed a place to hide, it gave me the land of dinosaurs, a whole island time seemed to have forgotten. Granted that one didn't work as well as I'd hoped. T-Rex was a lot scarier in real life than the books.

"If you say so," Joey rolled his eyes and looked back at the radar.

"I don't have another plan Joey, this is it," I crossed my arms over my chest and leaned back in my chair. "I can't work with the Saints on board, I can't throw them off because Ellie will go to jail for hiding me. If you can come up with something better, be my guest."

He was quiet for a moment. I hoped it was because he knew I was right. My dad had always been the plan guy and Joey just went along for the ride. Now I was the one who had to think of the ideas. Sometimes I thought my dad had been better at it.

"We won't make it to the Bahamas," Joey said and leaned forward in his chair. "Hurricane warning."

"Of course," I sighed. That was what was different about the air. Cooler and saltier from the storm it was bringing in. "Let me guess, heading right for us?"

"Big one too," Joey said. I leaned forward to see the massive storm swirling around the Atlantic. If we headed towards our destination, we would be hit right on. "We have to get out of the water. We can't outrun that."

"Remember how I said we should have hired a new navigation guy in Miami?" I asked him. "This would be why." I grumbled. With only Joey monitoring everything from sonar to radar plus making sure we stayed on course twenty-four hours a day, something was bound to get missed. This time it was the huge fucking storm blocking our path.

"We could hit up Sullivan's island?" He suggested.

"Can we make it there without crossing that?" I pointed to the radar again.

"Barely, but it's doable," Joey said.

I looked back at the radar one last time before standing up and walking out. Stairs hurt again so that took a while. After turning the wheel towards Sullivan's island, I yelled at the crew. "Listen up guys! We're taking a break at Sullivan's Island. Storm's heading for us so pack up anything valuable and get it off the ship when we dock tonight." They looked like ants running about after that. I went to my cabin and grabbed a duffel bag and put the lockets and the book at the bottom. I was shoving books and maps in when someone cleared their throat. I turned around to find all three Saints standing in my doorway.

"What's going on?" Connor asked and hitched his finger back towards the deck.

"We're making port tonight. There's a hurricane blocking our path, big one," I told them.

"Any place," Connor started, "interesting?"

"Not in the slightest," I zipped up the duffel bag and set it by the door so that I was standing next to them. "My dad's friend bought or stole, never did find out which, an island near here. We are guests in his house, so no shooting." I warned pointing a finger at them. It was like dealing with Marko all over again.

"An island?" Romeo repeated.

"Whole thing, usually we camp out on the beach but we're going to have to bunk with him. His house can withstand the strongest of hurricanes," I told them. The ship, on the other hand, I was slightly concerned about. "Get anything you don't want to find floating in the water packed up," I urged them out. "I have to call him to make sure he doesn't blow us up before we get to the dock." I shut the door on them leaving their mouths wide open at the one. Sullivan probably wouldn't shoot us. He knew the ship well enough. Then again, he didn't see very well and had a healthy fear of visitors.

Fortunately I got a hold of him before we got to the island. He was standing on the dock near his house in a green rain slicker waiting for us. The rain had started about an hour before we reached the island and the wind not too long after that. It took longer than normal to dock. I was afraid of smashing the ship into the side of the island so we crawled along. Then I made sure every inch of the ship was tied down and the sails tucked away on their mast. With any luck, they would still be standing once the storm passed us over.

It was close to ten at night before the ship was anchored down and the crew settled into the mansion. I had my own room facing the dock and the ship but most of the crew, Joey included since he was the one who missed the storm in the first place, had to bunk three to four to a room. That was still better than sleeping at the bottom of the ocean though. I rung my wet hair out in the sink of my bathroom and changed into a pair of blue pajama pants, the only ones I owned, and a tee shirt before going downstairs. Sullivan was sitting in the kitchen, his little white dog obediently at his feet. The old man had gone completely gray and wrinkled since the last time I saw him a few years back. He was thin and didn't look healthy. Then again, I never thought he looked healthy.

"Here," he handed me a mug of hot chocolate and a sandwich. "It's been a while girl."

"I know," I admitted and took a bite of the sandwich, peanut butter and jelly. "I've been a little busy."

"I've heard," he grumbled and I thought he wasn't going to continue on. He was always a little on the silent side. "You got yourself into a little trouble." He pointed to my leg.

"Misunderstanding," I smiled but I knew he could see right through me.

"Those misunderstandings are going to get you killed," he commented. "Who are the three new guys, the Irishmen and the Mexican?"

"No one," I said quickly and jammed a half of the sandwich into my mouth.

He was quiet for a minute before he said, "I've been having dreams."

"Oh not you too," I groaned. Maybe I had completely lost it. Maybe my mind lived in its own little world while my body was the funny farm.

Lightning flickered outside. Sullivan looked to the window with a sigh and then said, "your dad keeps visiting me, says you're in danger and that you'd be here soon."

"So I didn't need to call? Because that costs about a fortune," I said and then added, "I'm not in danger. Nothing bad has ever really happened." He looked at my leg. "I get hurt all the time. That has more to do with my clumsiness than my job," mostly.

"He says you're in danger of sliding down the wrong path, one you will never recover from."

"Hell," I dropped my head to the table, letting my forehead rest there on the wood.

"He's right," Sullivan put his hand on my back. "You're working for drug dealers and murderers now. You'll either become like them or they will kill you."

"I'm fine!" I snapped at him with my head still down.

"Now," he said slowly. "Maybe your destiny is to help the Saints."

I pulled my head up and looked at him despite my hair nearly covering my whole face. "Why'd you ask me who they were?"

"Giving you a chance to tell me," he shrugged. "You could have something real good with them," he paused again. "Especially with one of them."

"I'd rather take my chances with the drug dealers," I frowned at him.

"Just think about it Jack. You don't always have to do things the hard way." He gave me one more pat on the back and then walked away, probably heading off for bed now that I was slightly concerned for my sanity. And the creepy mentioning of Murphy.

The next morning, I woke up to thunder. Loud booms mixed with rain and wind hitting my window. I showered, in a real shower mind you. I know, stupid thing to be excited about but try lugging hot water up a flight of stairs to the tub in the middle of your bedroom. After the shower, I changed into jeans and an orange tank top trying to think of what to do. I wasn't used to having free time. I walked around Sullivan's mansion for a while gawking at all the paintings and photographs he had collected over the years. I knew the house had started off as nothing more than a shack, but he had built onto it over the years until it looked like the mammoth it currently was.

I ate breakfast alone, some of the crew passing in and out looking groggy. They had worked hard the day before, they deserved some sleep. I was starting to fear sleep. I hung out in the massive living room staring at the empty fireplace for a bit. The wind had picked up and the windows rattled along the wall. I went over and looked at the Sunset Ambrosia. She was still where I had left her but was swaying dangerously, like she was going to slip onto her side an minute. One of the cables had come loose. I sighed, mainly because I couldn't bear the thought of losing my ship.

The wind calmed a little around two in the afternoon. The ship was still rocking so I figured I could check on her while the wind was calmer. I found Sullivan's rain slicker in the workshop off the side of the house and enough rope to get me to the other side of the island if I really wanted to go there. I picked it up and went to the back porch. The twins were outside talking and having a smoke. I ignored them and pulled the hood to the coat up over my head and tied the end of the rope to one of the heavy, stone columns. Neither of the twins said anything to me, just curiously watched as I tied the other end around my waist estimating about how much I would need to make it to the ship. I took a step out into the rain and wind and prayed the rope held up.

It took twenty minutes to walk about a hundred feet to the dock which rocked along. I climbed up and looked around. It was pretty easy to find the cable that had snapped. It was flying about the deck like it was possessed. I grabbed a hold of it and quickly repaired it. The ship slowly stopped rocking as violently as it had been. I went to my cabin to check on the windows I had boarded up. They wood seemed to be holding well enough but I wondered what the glass would look like once I pulled the boards off. With my luck, they'd shatter into a million pieces.

I climbed back down and pulled the slag on the rope until it was tight. The trip back to the house was going to be worse since the wind was blowing against me now. It could easily rip me away and out to sea, worse death than shot by Juan in a field outside of Cancun. I wrapped the rope around my wrists and started to pull myself along, digging my heels into the soft grass and mud as I went along. When I finally made it back to the house, the twins were still standing there.

"See?" Connor pointed to me. "Fucking rope!"

Murphy rolled his eyes and looked to me for an explanation. I shrugged and he shook his head and went back into the house slamming the door behind him.

The storm re-intensified later in the afternoon. The wind and rain picked up and brought horrible lightning strike with it. I spent most of the day staring at the windows at the ship gasping every time she swayed and dipped too low. It got dark around seven at night. Sullivan told me it was because the storm was getting worse and blocking out the sun. He forced me into eating despite the butterflies fluttering about in my belly. I went back to the windows looking out during the lightning but that was making me sick with worry. I went to my room with a bottle of tequila hoping that would lull me into sleep.

I drank a couple of shots straight from the bottle and sat down on the bed determined to read. With the book open, I laid down on my stomach and read a whopping two paragraphs before I lost interest. I rolled over onto my back and hung my head off the edge of the bed thinking maybe I could go play poker or something with the crew. A knock on the door gave me hope that I could avoid losing all my money tonight. "Come in," I called.

The door opened and Murphy stepped in, same dark jeans and black tee-shirt. He raised an eyebrow at me and asked, "what are you doing?"

"Willing something interesting to happen with my mind," I said and sat up on the edge of the bed cross-legged. He stood in the space between the door and the edge of the bed like moving forward would kill him.

"I thought you'd want to talk."

"About what?" I asked him.

"After I carried you back to the ship," he said, obviously uncomfortable.

"Nothing to talk about," I said quickly and stood up to set my book back into my bag. I looked back at him, both of us standing. "Shouldn't have happened. Nothing more to say."

"You getting shot or the kiss?"

"Both," I said quietly and suddenly I was the one uncomfortable with the conversation. That and he was looking at me again. I never was good at dealing with men. I hated not knowing what they were thinking about me. Give me a guy who wanted to see me sleeping with the fishes and I was suddenly clairvoyant. Put a guy I'm even slightly interested in and I couldn't understand a thing about them.

We stood for a moment and I wasn't sure if he was ticked off that I didn't want to talk or if he was trying to decide what to do. A lightning bolt struck somewhere close and the thunder following shook the whole house. The lights flickered once and then died all together. "Damn," I cursed. "I should go find Sullivan." I said as the lightning lit up the room.

He was still staring at me with an intensity that I couldn't understand. The room went dark and I shivered. The next bolt that lit up the room showed him moving towards me and then his hands were on my hips pulling me to him roughly. His mouth found mine and I melted into the kiss. He was warm and inviting. His hands trailed up my back and tangled into my hair. In the back of my head a little voice said stop but then his hands went back down to my butt and hoisted me up onto his hips. That little voice was drowned out by the one who screamed I hadn't been laid in a year.

We fell into the bed in between lightning strikes, leaving piles of clothes everywhere. He looked down at me as another strike illuminated the room. His hand went to my stomach and the fresh scar from his bullet. He started to pull away but I wrapped my legs around his waist and pulled him closer. I kissed him for everything I was worth making sure he knew I didn't care that he had shot me. I didn't care right then that is. He was slow and meticulous, making me cry out over and over. Thank god I was the only bedroom on this side of the house. I held onto his shoulders until he finally collapsed on top of me completely satisfied. This was definitely going to complicate my life. Then again, what didn't anymore?