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I head back home to get myself cleaned up, but of course, Mom is right there in the kitchen when I walk through the front door.
Just my luck.
She rushes over when she sees the blood on my jaw. “Jack, what happened? What is this?”
I swat her hand away. “It’s nothing. Leave me alone.”
“Did you fight with your brother?”
“I don’t want to talk about it—”
She grabs my arm, stopping me in my tracks. “Don’t you walk away from me, Jack. I want to know what happened.”
I look down at the floor, my jaw clenched. “Why don’t you ask Adam? You always like his side of the story better than mine.”
Mom stares at me, her gaze as sharp as a razor. “I know you’re feeling let down right now—”
“You don’t know what I’m feeling!” I burst out, yanking my arm out of Mom’s grasp. “You don’t know what it’s like to have a brother who pretends he’s your best friend, but meanwhile he goes and sticks a knife in your back! He deserved worse than a punch in the face.”
“Jack,” Mom gasps, her eyes blazing with holy hellfire, “how could you do such a thing?”
“You don’t know what he did—”
“Yes, I do know what he did. And he should have spoken up sooner. But that’s no excuse to punch your brother in the face—”
“You knew about Orca?” I stare at her, a pit of ice in my stomach. “How long have you known?”
Mom hesitates, her gaze shifting. “I’ve known there was something between them for a while. Since the day Adam came back from her island.”
I scoff. “Unbelievable. And you didn’t think to tell me?”
“I was giving him a chance to tell you himself—”
“Does Dad know? Am I the one moron you all play for a fool?!”
“No. Your father doesn’t know about any of it.”
“Because you kept Adam’s dirty little secret for him, huh?” I shake my head, muttering a bitter laugh. “He’s always been your favorite. You’re always taking his side—”
“That’s a lie,” Mom snaps. “I would be saying the same thing if it were the other way around! This isn’t about favorites. It’s about right and wrong.”
“Right and wrong? I think you’d better talk to your other son about right and wrong—”
“Adam isn’t the one who can’t control his temper,” Mom argues, crossing her arms over her chest. “He never would have laid a finger on you if you hadn’t started it.”
“I never would have started it if he hadn’t betrayed me!” I roar, slamming my hand on the kitchen table. My vision blurs with hot, angry tears as I lower my voice. “He’s the one who started it, Mom. He’s a lying, cheating bastard. And I’ll never forgive him as long as I live.”
Mom stares at me like I just drove a knife through her chest. She shakes her head, tears glossing in her eyes. “You break my heart, Jackie,” she whispers. “You both break my heart.”
I turn away from her and storm down the hallway, shutting myself in the bathroom.
The first thing I do is rifle through the medicine cabinet for a bottle of aspirin. I shake four pills into my hand, swallow them, and turn the shower on as cold as it goes. As I tear my shirt off, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. God, I look like hell. Dark circles under my eyes, a smear of dried blood on my jaw, and a nasty bruise darkening my abs where Adam punched me.
He could have done worse. After I slugged him in the face, I half-expected him to ground and pound me. But instead, he was all defense, just trying to make me stop. He didn’t want to hurt me, I could tell. And that makes me hate him even more.
Because I wanted to hurt him. I enjoyed making him suffer.
It was payback.
