Page 165 of The Otherworld

I hear Orca shouting my name, but I can’t stop. I feel like an animal, like I could tear him apart right now and enjoy every second of it. There is nothing but this moment. Blood in my mouth, sweat in my eyes. A monster coming alive under my skin.

I drive my fist into Adam’s side, and he starts coughing violently, cradling his ribs.

His broken ribs.

I feel a jolt of regret when I realize what I just did—but it’s too late.

Adam’s fist slams into my stomach.

Oh, sweet Jesus.

I roll off him, gripping my abdomen as I coil up on the floor, shock waves of pain rocking through me. Paired with my hangover, it’s the worst feeling in the world. My head is pounding, my body is shuddering, and I can’t breathe—I feel like I’m going to throw up.

“Stop it, both of you!” Orca screams. “Just stop it!”

I look up to find her red-faced and crying.

“How could you?” she yells at me, her voice shredding. “Adam’s your brother, not your enemy!”

For a stunned moment, I stare at her, gripping my stomach with one hand, gasping for breath.

Adam crawls to his feet, steadying himself on the workbench. He wipes his bloody lip with the back of his hand and says, “Come on, Orca. Let’s go.” Without a backward glance, he limps toward the door, wincing with every step.

Orca rushes forward to take his arm, helping him to the door. But before she leaves the hangar, she pauses and looks over her shoulder at me—a smoking battlefield in her eyes. “I thought you were better than this, Jack.”

And with that, she walks out.

Part Three

The Butterfly Effect

JULY 9, 1997

50

Home

ORCA

“Are you all right, Adam?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“You’re holding your ribs.”

“I’m fine.” Adam winces in pain as he limps through the walkaround, slides into the pilot’s seat and pulls the door shut behind him. He sighs, tipping his head back against the seat. “My brother sure knows how to hit you where it hurts.”

A wave of regret swells through me. “Oh, Adam, I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s not your fault.”

“But maybe Jack is right. Maybe I did encourage him without meaning to—”

“Orca.” He takes my hand firmly. “You did nothing wrong. If anyone is to blame, it’s me.”

---