Chapter 21

Jack triedto catch his breath as Delia pressed her phone to her ear. "Tony?"

She listened, then exhaled through her nose. "I already saw it." A head nod. "Ellie's post. It was scathing."

Not the post. He'd been reading it, trying to figure out what had upset her, when Tony phoned. He'd answered by accident trying to decline the call, and Tony hadn't waited to make sure it was Delia on the other end.

"Delia, I promise, we're taking care of this. I'm working with IndieLake's lawyer right now to send cease and desist letters to all the platforms?—"

"Hey, Tony? This is Jack."

"Oh!" Deep exhale. "Hey, Jack. Sorry, I thought?—"

"What's going on?"

"Are you with Delia?"

"Yes." Kind of.

"Has she seen the video?"

Jack's stomach dropped to his knees."What video?"

"If she hasn't seen it, you need to make sure she doesn't. I'm working with IndieLake's lawyers right now."

"Tony, what the f?—"

"It's porn, Jack. Someone posted AI porn of Delia and it's pretty damn believable."

Jack reached out. "Delia, it's not the?—"

Her face went white. "What?" The phone pulled from her ear, and Jack could hear Tony's voice through the speaker.

"We're on it, Delia. I've got the whole team submitting cease and desist requests on every platform. I'm working with IndieLake's lawyer, and we'll do everything we can to get it taken down."

Delia's hand started to shake. "Did you watch it?"

"I—yes, I saw what it was, but?—"

"Did you watch it, Tony?" Delia hissed.

"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.

The sound of a camera shutter sounded behind Jack. He muttered a string of curses and reached out, turning her key in the lock.

She gripped onto his coat. "Don't?—"

"I'm not leaving. I promise." His voice rumbled in his throat. "Where the hell is Alvin?"

Delia had no idea. She hadn't phoned in the car, and hadn't even thought to text him while they were driving back into town. Alvin knew she was with Jack, and he was entitled to a day off. His replacement had driven with her to Country's ranch, but she'd told him to go home. It was her fault for not communicating her return time.

"Don't you have practice?" she squeaked as Jack covered her body with his, shielding her as they entered the foyer. He slammed the door behind them.

"Nope. " Jack knelt and unzipped her boots. Delia had zero concept of time, but she was almost positive he'd told her he did. Before she could kick her boots off, Jack was next to her, his arm around her shoulders. He turned the deadbolt and kept them clear of the two narrow windows on either side of the door. "Are you hungry?"

Delia shook her head. She didn't think she'd ever eat again, not after hearing Tony describe what was moving like wildfire across the web. Damn it. How ironic that she'd been upset about a petulant blog post by Ellie May? Her head started to pound.

"Upstairs, then." He stripped off his coat and held it out like they were sheltering from the rain. They climbed to the second floor, not even bothering to turn on a light until they reached Delia's bedroom.

He helped her out of her coat. "Where's your cell? I can phone Alvin and fill him in. Let him know we have company."

Delia nodded, no longer hyperventilating. She dropped her purse on the bed and pulled her phone from her pocket. Without hesitation, she unlocked it and handed it to Jack, then stumbled into the washroom and splashed cold water on her face.

How could someone do this? Delia thought back to all the times she'd heard about leaked sex tapes or deep fake pictures or videos. If she was honest, she'd never quite believed the celebrities when they went on talk shows insisting it wasn't them or swearing it was filmed without their permission.

Probably a publicity stunt. She almost gagged. What a self-righteous, judgmental asshole she'd been. What had given her the right to sit back and assume she knew anything about someone else's life? Who was she to read the gossip or look at the stolen photos?

It was madness. That anyone felt entitled to exclusive access to the most intimate parts of someone's life. She wanted to set her social apps on fire and never get on the internet again.

Jack's voice hummed behind the door, and a thought sent a bucket of ice down the back of her shirt. Would he watch it? Would Mary or Alvin? Had his teammates seen it? Every man she'd ever known or dated in her life flashed through her mind's eye, and she threw herself to her knees in front of the toilet.

She clenched her hands into fists as her stomach emptied, then coughed and sucked in a breath before she heaved a second time.

When her heart rate came down and her stomach wasn't trying to flip itself inside out, Delia forced herself up and rinsed the sour out of her mouth. She brushed her teeth, then washed her face properly and applied moisturizer.

Looking at herself in the mirror only made her want to cry again, so she dropped her eyes and braved the bedroom where she knew Jack was waiting. Something inside her shifted like wet sand at the realization that she'd asked him not to go.

Her heart stuttered as she stepped past the threshold. Jack looked up from his phone. Hers sat next to him on the comforter. He didn't ask if she was okay. Her pale skin and puffy eyes answered that question.

She wanted to say something. To make a joke like she had on the ice or use another tool from her toolbox to process the last hour, but her thoughts and emotions were a snarled ball of yarn that she didn"t have the energy to start unraveling.

Instead, all of her worst habits floated to the surface. She should drink. A lot. And watch a terrible rom com with chips and queso and a box of doughnuts.

She knew from personal experience that none of it would work. She was going to crash. Again, and again, and again.

Delia glanced at her guitar propped against the chair. For the first time in a long time, the idea of playing it made her stomach lurch. If she had to avoid her feelings, that was not the way to do it. Something about her fingers against the smooth wood and strings wouldn"t allow her to lie to herself.

It was the same reason she couldn't phone her mother. Not yet. She would just sob, and the last thing her mom needed was more stress in her life. Lying was what she needed right now. Delia closed her eyes and drew a deep breath. Sleep. She just needed to crawl into the bed and close her eyes and tell herself the last hour had been a terrible dream.

When she opened her eyes, Jack was still watching her. He jammed his hands into the pockets of his jeans. "Alvin and Mary are a few minutes away. He"s going to make sure nobody tries to approach the house." Delia nodded, rolling and unrolling the hem of her sweater. "I know I"m not your boyfriend, and I"m not trying to—" He flinched and lowered his eyes. "I don"t have to be here in your room if you don"t want me to be, but I can"t go, Delia. I"m not going to leave you alone. So I can be here with you or I can go sit?—"

"Be here with me." Delia"s voice was a whisper, raw from throwing up and swollen from crying. She didn"t know what it meant for him to be there, but the idea of him walking out the door made her insides yank from her middle.

Jack let out a relieved breath. "Okay. Yeah." He glanced around the room like a dog hunting for the perfect place to curl up and nap. Jack being close normally sent her heart into rhythmic gymnastics, but not then.

The idea of him wound around her suddenly felt like the end of a good book. Like placing the final piece of a jigsaw puzzle. The chord resolution at the end of the bridge.

Delia took the few steps to her dresser and reached under her shirt to take off her bra. Jack faced the door while she changed, only turning back when he heard her pulling the sheets and comforter back on the bed.

He reached out and handed her her phone so she could plug it in on the bedside table. Delia took a moment to send a text to her mom just for peace of mind.

Hey! Thinking of you! Are you feeling okay? How was work? Love you!

It was too many exclamation points, but she sent it anyway. When she was settled under the covers, Jack turned off the light. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the inky dark.

"Please." It was the only word she could get out, and she hoped he understood. She wanted him there, right next to her. Holding her together so she didn't shatter into a thousand pieces.

A streetlamp sent pale light through the thin strip between her curtains and the wall. It was just enough to catch Jack"s silhouette as he approached the bed. He climbed onto it, staying on top of the covers as the mattress compressed. Delia"s skin prickled at the sound of his jeans rubbing on fabric. At the way she rolled back into him.

His breathing shifted from shallow to deep. "Is this okay?"

Delia nodded, then reached back and grabbed his wrist, pulling his arm over her waist. Jack moved closer, pressing his chest against her back, unintentionally pulling the covers tight over her shoulders and hip. The pressure was soothing, like a weighted blanket, and Delia exhaled, sinking into the mattress.

"Do you need anything? Water?" he whispered.

Delia shook her head, then reached up and smoothed her hair so it wouldn"t be in Jack"s face. When she dropped her hand, she gripped onto Jack, pulling his hand to her chest. Her thoughts depressed, slowing for the first time all afternoon, but the questions from the washroom still rolled through her head like marbles. "Do you think people believe it?"

Jack drew a breath and exhaled. "I"m sure some people do. But anyone who knows you?—"

"People don"t know me, Jack." That was the honest-to-God truth. She hadn"t known how to get close to people at the same time as she was working to build her dream career, so she hadn"t. She was hopefully likable in her interviews, but she hadn"t always been herself. Mostly because herself hadn"t always been especially successful at winning friends and influencing people. She was only truly herself with a few people. Mary. Her mom. Tony, most of the time. And . . . now Jack. The realization sent a soft glow buzzing under her skin.

"Maybe you"re not giving people enough credit."

"Well, people just posted my fake sex tape, so . . ."

Jack chuckled, and her shoulder moved with his chest. "Fair point." He shifted his legs and completed their partial spoon. "I think I know you, though."

"Yeah?"

"Enough to know you wouldn"t like any of the shit Tony mentioned in that video."

Delia breathed a laugh. "Right. I"m so easy to read in real life, you"ve figured out my sexual preferences."

Jack brushed his nose against the back of her head. "You"re not as cryptic and mysterious as you think."

The crushing weight on Delia"s chest slipped an inch. "Some people don"t even listen to my lyrics."

"Maybe those people would listen if they were actually yours."

Delia"s heart thudded loud enough, she was sure Jack could hear it. She gripped his hand tighter. "You should teach me that rhyme." Jack didn"t answer right away, and Delia realized her mind had skipped well outside normal trains of thought. "The Tony one," she clarified, and sensed Jack grin behind her.

"That"s unfair," he whispered.

"How so?"

"Because you know I can"t say no when you just had a leaked sex tape."

She laughed. "I know, it was brilliant. I said to myself, "Delia, just be patient until the sex tape leaks, and then you can finally get your answers.""

"Diabolical." Jack pulled his hand from hers. "Okay, it"s really difficult, so I need you to pay attention." Delia nodded, her heart fluttering like a butterfly trapped in a jar. "It starts with toes, which I can"t reach right now, but just pretend."

Delia stretched her arm downward, barely reaching past her knee. "Okay, got it. I"m as far as I can go."

"Right, so "Toe, knee,"" Jack tapped her knee and waited for her to follow. ""Chest." He didn"t touch there, instead keeping his hand over the back of hers. "Then "nut," that"s your head."

"Of course it is." Delia tapped her forehead.

Jack tugged on her wrist. ""Nose.""

Delia cackled. "Ow! That"s my eyeball!"

"Well pull in your fingers, geez, Delia. You don"t need a claw for this exercise."

She balled her hand into a fist and used just her pointer finger. When it was resting on the tip of her nose, Jack pulled her hand back. "Now you actually do need to touch your eye."

Delia closed her eyes and let Jack drop her hand until her fingertip tapped her eyelid.

"So, "nose, eye" . . ." Jack hesitated, then dropped her hand back to her chest, his fingers wrapped around hers. "Love you."

They sat there a moment with only the sound of their breathing breaking the silence.

"Is that it?" Delia asked.

Jack swallowed. "That"s the first part. Then you just repeat "Toe, knee, nose.""

Delia yawned. "I"ll have to practice."

"Like I said. High level of difficulty."

She grinned, lacing her fingers through his. They lay there in the still and quiet for what could've been ten minutes or thirty.

After her thoughts had worn themselves out, Delia yawned. "You know what I'm most upset about?"

Jack's reply was slow like molasses. "What?"

"That I can't make sex-tape jokes anymore."

Jack breathed a laugh and kissed the crown of her head.