Page 69 of Heartless As Puck

Now I did look at Austin. What on earth was going on?

“It has,” Austin admitted, reaching across the space between us and taking my hand again. I intertwined my fingers with his, grateful for the physical reminder that whatever was coming our way, we were in it together. “Why?”

Gus heaved a sigh, his shoulders slumping. “Someone took a photo of you engaged in an… intimate… activity yesterday. Based on the background, I assume it was on the edge of LaBagh woods. The thing is…”

He trailed off, looking at a loss. My throat tightened, and I felt that familiar thickening of my tongue. I was scared to ask what the photo was of. It must be bad to have provoked this reaction.

“The tabloids are running with the story that the two of you are exhibitionists.”

My chest constricted. Exhibitionists?

That was ridiculous.

“What do you mean by intimate?” Austin asked, squeezing my hand gently.

Gus closed his eyes. “It’s easier to show you.”

A chill ran through me, and I tried to swallow, but there were rocks in the back of my throat.

Gus opened his eyes, clicked something on his computer screen, and turned it around to face us.

For a long moment, I was frozen, unable to tear my eyes from the horrifying image on his screen. It was obviously taken at night, and it wasn’t the best quality, but you could clearly see my face.

Austin kneeled in front of me, his head level with my crotch, and even with the poor image quality, you could tell my jeans were pulled down around my thighs.

I clutched my chest, my airways so tight I could hardly manage to drag in enough air to remain conscious. Black spots danced in front of my eyes, and my vision blurred. It was only when the tears began dripping from my chin that I realized I was crying.

Austin swore. “How did anyone get this picture?”

“I don’t know,” Gus replied. “It could have been someone at the lodge, or perhaps a tabloid reporter followed you out there in case the retreat went to shit and they got lucky.”

“What are you doing about it?” Austin asked.

“We’re trying to track the source, and we’ve sent takedown letters everywhere that we’ve found it, but there’s no putting the cat back in the bag. Once something is on the Internet, it’s there for good.”

I bury my face in my hands, a sob racking my shoulders.

Oh, God.

This photo was on the Internet.

My parents could see it. My brother could see it. Even my classmates…

But that wasn’t all. If I applied for jobs as a speech therapist, this could come out. All they’d need to do is Google me and they’d know all about it.

No one would want to hire me to work with children after this.

My dream, the thing I’d been working toward for years, was crumbling around me.

“Find it everywhere you can and get that shit taken down.” Austin’s voice was hardly more than a growl. “I don’t care what it takes or how much money I have to throw at it. Make it go away.”

His arm settled over my shoulders, and he pulled me into an embrace. It was awkward given the fact we were sitting on two different chairs and, as much as I wished it made me feel better, us being together was what had gotten us into this mess, so the reminder didn’t exactly help.

“We’re doing the best we can.” Gus’s tone was calm, conciliatory. “Fuck, Austin, when I suggested a fake relationship, it was supposed to reduce drama and make you look more settled. You know, play up the beloved hockey dynasty angle and connect you to three famous players known for treading the straight and narrow, but instead, you’re dragging their names through the filth.”

I whimpered. Would this actually damage my parents’ good name? My uncle’s?

Alec’s?