Page 91 of On the Power Play

“Just enough to know what it was.”

“And what is it?” Her fingers were like claws around the phone case.

“I told you, it’s?—”

“No, Tony, what’s in the video? How long is it? What specifically does it show?”

Jack’s stomach roiled. By the way Tony was acting, he doubted it was vanilla.

Tony coughed. “Delia, I’m not?—”

“I can just search it up!” Her whole body was trembling.

Tony cursed under his breath. “Don’t search it up. Seriously.” He let out a long sigh. “It’s twenty-two minutes. Like I said, I didn’t watch much, but there’s . . . bondage.”

_____

Jack clenched the wheel as they drove back into Calgary. He hadn’t let Delia request her car and insisted on taking her home since he was going that direction anyway.

She still hadn’t stopped crying. After she’d hung up with Tony, she got into the passenger seat of his truck and curled into herself, turning her face away from him. He could still see the tears streaming down her cheeks and hear her trying to hide her sniffles.

If he’d felt helpless sitting on the Blizzard bench for the first time, this was a hundred times worse.

Jack reached over the console and put a hand on her shoulder. Her face pinched. The only sign that she noticed his touch, and not the one he was hoping for. “I’m so sorry, Delia.” He pulled the truck up parallel to the curb in front of the bed and breakfast.

Delia nodded once, then unfurled her legs and pulled on the handle. Since the truck wasn’t in park, it didn’t open. She fumbled for the unlock button, then swung the door wide and stepped out. “Thanks, Jack.”

Her voice was so soft, he wasn’t positive she’d said anything. As she shoved her hands in her coat and walked up the sidewalk, adrenaline surged through him. He couldn’t let her leave like this. Was Mary even home? Was she going to walk into the house and sit in her room alone?

Maybe that was what she wanted, but Jack thought of those shadows on the ice.

He officially parked and turned off the truck, then launched himself onto the street and jogged around the hood.

Delia looked back. “Jack?—”

“No.” He took the steps two at a time until he was standing on the front landing next to her. Her key was already in the lock. “No.” He pulled her against his chest and wrapped his arms around her so tight, he could feel her shoulder blades touch.

Delia’s breathing quickened. Her arms stiffened against his chest. And then, as if reaching the top of a hill on a rollercoaster and accelerating down the other side, she collapsed. Jack held her up as she shook, no longer crying silent tears, but letting out deep, wracking sobs.

He ran his hands up and down her back, wishing he could push all the anger and embarrassment out of her like a tube of toothpaste. She didn’t need to be ashamed. Whatever it showed had nothing to do with her, and whoever had made that smut—whoever had posted it and reposted—needed more than a full throttle punch to the balls. Jack clenched his teeth so hard, he smelled iron.

Tony told him to keep her from watching it, but Jack knew that if something like that had been posted about him, he’d absolutely be searching it up as soon as the lights were out. Not because he’d want to see it, but because he couldn’t not. It was impossible to know that thousands, possibly millions of people were watching a fake video with your face on it and not have the curiosity rip you to shreds.

The problem was, it didn’t sound like this was a video Delia, or anyone else for that matter, would be able to get out of her head.

Jack thought he might be sick. Porn was soul-deadening enough on its own, but to have your image, your body, used like that?

He had to find a way to get the video down.

Tony said he was working with his lawyers, but he didn’t put a lick of faith in that process. They needed the big guns. And Jack knew exactly where to find them.

_____

Delia tried not to think about what the front of Jack’s coat would look like when she pulled away. Her face felt like it had been stung by a hive of bees. The last hour blurred together. The pond, the phone call with Tony, the drive home. All of it lay under a thick, black, oppressive cloud.

She exhaled a shuddering breath. Her eyes were so puffy, she could barely see through her lashes, and she’d stopped trying to keep her nose under control since escaping Jack’s truck. Delia didn’t want him to see her like this—she didn’t want anyone to see her like this—but the second he’d pulled her into his arms, she’d given in.

Click.

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