Page 110 of The Otherworld

“I’m an adult now—”

“I don’t care. The point is, Orca’s father wouldn’t allow it.”

Jack glares at me, jaw twitching. I’m getting closer to the truth.

“So what really happened, Jack? Did you kidnap her?”

“No! First of all, she’s not a kid.”

I scoff.

“And second, I did ask her old man’s permission. I made him listen to what I had to say—”

“Oh, you made him listen?”

“And he was a total jerk about it. He kept threatening to kick me off his dumb island like I was some criminal—”

“For trespassing, you mean?”

“For questioning his authority.” Jack spits the words indignantly. “For daring to say that his daughter might be happier if she wasn’t locked up like some prisoner. I called him out, and he just… bit my head off. He wouldn’t even listen—”

“So he forbade Orca from leaving, then.”

Jack stares at me. Busted.

“And you took her anyway.”

“I didn’t take her,” he argues. “Her father told her to get out. You should have seen the way he yelled at her. I thought she was gonna start crying.” Jack sighs in disgust, shaking his head. “There’s no way I could have left her alone with that monster.”

I fall silent, pressing my fingertips to the ache in my forehead. Mr. Monroe isn’t a monster. No, I wasn’t there to see him blow up at Jack, but I can imagine it was only the result of shock and fear, his carefully protected daughter being torn away from him without warning.

“Don’t act like you wouldn’t have done the same,” Jack adds.

My head snaps up to look at him. “I wouldn’t have done the same.”

“Oh, right. Because you don’t give a crap—”

“No, because I do care. More than you could possibly imagine! You’re so selfish, you don’t even see what you’ve done. You have meddled and disrupted someone else’s family when you had no right to. It was childish. And it was wrong.”

Jack takes a step closer, lowering his voice. “You think I’m selfish? You’re the one who walked away and left Orca on that island after all she did for you. She saved your fricking life, and you left her there. But I, on the other hand, happen to care about her. I want her to be happy. She’s a remarkable girl… and she deserves the world. I’m sorry you disagree.”

On that final word, he turns and storms back to the house. The screen door slams behind him. My hands curl into fists, a bomb of frustration detonating in my chest. I want to punch something—or someone.

I thought I had it all planned out—I thought Jack would leave it alone, Orca would stay with her father, and one day I would get over the loss of her. I thought the pieces were settling into place, maybe not as I’d have liked them to, but exactly as they needed to be.

Then Jack had to go and flip everything upside down.

I told him nothing had happened between Orca and me during my time at the lighthouse. I lied and said that I had no feelings for her—that we were just friends who talked about philosophy.

Nothing could be further from the truth.

But I can’t tell him the truth now. It’s too late.

The screen door whines open again and shuts—softly, this time. Quiet footsteps approach, and for a moment I assume it must be Mom coming to make sure I didn’t snap my brother’s head off.

“Adam?”

My pulse quickens at the sound of Orca’s voice. I turn and find her standing a few feet away, watching me. For a moment, neither of us says a word. Her eyes glimmer in the moonlight, her wild hair tumbling around her shoulders.

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