Chapter 8: The Fallout
The phone chimed, a soft, final sound in the dusty quiet. "Sent," Jax said, his voice flat. He tossed the device back to Kyle, who caught it with a slick grin. "Let the fireworks begin." Hope’s own phone started buzzing in her discarded jacket, vibrating against the concrete floor like a trapped insect. Then it rang, her mother’s senate campaign photo flashing on the screen. Jax pushed her back against the cold brick wall, his body pinning hers as the phone rang and rang. Diesel moved behind her, his hands rough on her hips. "Looks like someone’s popular," he muttered into her hair. Her
body responded to their touch with a traitorous heat, even as her mind screamed. Kyle’s camera light flicked on, a blinding white eye in the gloom. "Give us a smile for the voters, Hope." A different, sharper chime cut through the warehouse—a news alert. Jax reached out, snagging her phone from the floor. He held it up so she could see the headline blazing across the screen: SENATOR MERRIWEATHER'S DAUGHTER IN SEX TAPE SCANDAL. His thumb swiped, and a video of her, blindfolded and moaning on the bike, began to autoplay. Below it, the comments section was already exploding. Hope made a small, broken sound, a sob that caught in her throat as Jax’s mouth found her neck. "Watch it," he commanded, his voice a low growl against her skin. He held the phone closer, forcing her to see her own unraveling as his body moved against hers. Another alert flashed—STOCKS PLUMMET. DONATIONS FROZEN. This was the adventure she’d craved, and it was eating her alive.