Page 96 of On the Power Play

Bond made him think of Delia. He glanced up the stairs and checked that her bedroom door was still closed. He hoped that when she did eventually wake, he'd have good news.

Watching Tyler work made him antsy, so he retreated to the kitchen and started washing dishes and putting things away. Doubts circled in his mind like crows. What if it didn't work? What if they got caught and the video still didn't come down? What if the original video came down, but versions of it perpetuated anyway?

He glanced up to find Country walking toward the sink. He grabbed the bacon grease covered baking sheet and the frying pan Jack had used to scramble the eggs. "How are you holding up?"

Jack put a half sheet of foil over the leftover bacon. "Holding."

Country blew out a breath as he squeezed the bottle of dish soap. "Yeah. No kidding. You stay here last night?"

Jack nodded. "I didn't even ask how the game went."

"Because it's not important." He turned his head. "But we kicked their asses. Five to one."

"Hell yeah, bud."

Country scrubbed the pan. "You have a game tonight?"

"Yep."

"You going to be able to focus?"

"Doubtful."

Country grinned. "Still think this relationship is fake?"

Jack's arm jerked, and he nearly dropped the eggs before setting them back on the shelf in the fridge. Country gave him a smug smile when he turned, and Jack reached for the bottle of mustard.

He shoved it into the fridge and closed the door. "This is wrecking her. Even if Tyler gets it down, I don't know how we can combat the viral shares." Jack still hadn't opened his social apps, but after talking to the guys last night, it sounded like the video had been reposted on every platform. When it was reported for explicit content and taken down, it was just put up again. A never-ending cycle.

"I do." Country propped the pan in the drying rack. Jack frowned. "Fight fire with fire, bud. You know those photographers camped out on the street? Guess what they want to see more of?"

"Delia."

Country shook his head. "Nope. You. Delia. Both of you. The myth of you." He leaned into the counter. "Plus, in my experience, the internet loves nothing more than a pissed-off hockey player."

Chapter Twenty-Three

Delia woke to the smell of bacon. It was almost enough to stave off the dread that slugged her in the stomach seconds after she registered where she was. In her room. In her bed. Where she'd curled up after crying her eyes out. With?—

She rolled and found it was a pillow against her back, not Jack. Her dread turned to worry. Had he stayed the whole night? Had she kept him from his hockey commitments? Delia groaned and reached for her phone on the nightstand. Seven thirty. Surprising she'd slept so late considering she'd gotten into bed just after eight.

Another waft of bacon fat hit her nostrils. Was Mary cooking? Mary never cooked, but considering the circumstances, she wouldn't be surprised if her friend had decided to go emergency domestic. Delia took off her knitted sweater from the night before and pulled on a cotton crewneck. No bra. No bra for the rest of forever.

Delia picked up her phone. Two new messages from her mom and a hundred others she wasn’t able to deal with at the moment. She tapped on her mother’s name.

Thinking of you always

Work was good. Breathing well, so no more articles, love ??

Delia blew out a slow breath and pressed on her mother’s number. She couldn’t put it off any longer.

Each time the phone rang, Delia’s pulse kicked up a notch. She wanted her mom to pick up so she could share the awful news and get it over with, but when it went to voicemail, she breathed a sigh of relief. Now she could spit it out without answering any questions. Or crying again because she was already halfway there just hearing her mother’s voice telling her to leave a message.

“Maman. I don’t know if you’ve heard anything in the news, but someone posted a video online. It’s fake. It’s a sex tape of me that they made with AI tools. Tony said he and the lawyer at IndieLake are working on it, and I’m so sorry something like this happened, and I love you—” Her voice broke. “Anyway, I needed to tell you. It’ll be fine. I’m doing fine, and I hope you have a great day, and I miss you.” Delia ended the call before her voice lifted into a supersonic register.

She dropped her phone, padded into the washroom and brushed her teeth, scouring her mouth of the moments spent above the toilet the night before. Ugh. Jack had heard that. He'd seen her completely melt down. No wonder he'd left before he had to face her in the light of day.

She splashed cold water on her face, peed, then washed her hands, shut off the washroom light, and fell back on the bed, grabbing her phone. Her heart slammed against her ribs the second she swiped up on the screen. It was out there. That video. If it had already started to go viral when Tony put out an SOS, what had it done overnight?

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