Then the fallout begins.
Chapter Forty-Nine
Rayne
Within forty-eight hours, I drop in the general polls by three points. Not significant, but enough to remind me that no matter how carefully I explained myself, some people were always going to see the woman and her sexuality before they saw the candidate.
Our campaign phone lines and social media accounts flood with messages calling me “unfit for office” and “scandalous.” There are comments about my body that Anika tries to shield me from, but the ones I see, I delete. That doesn’t stop the momentary sting.
Bayside Truth Watch goes into overdrive, working desperately to salvage its narrative. The page posts edited memes trying to paint my press conference as a bid for sympathy votes from women while demanding the immediate release of the photos.
Fucking Hollis. He’s still convinced he’s the smartest person in the room. I took away some of his power by speaking first, but that doesn’t mean he won’t post the pictures at some point.Images that would live on the internet forever. One Google search of my name, and that’s what would pop up first, as though that’s my identity.
I’d be devastated. Not because I’ve done anything wrong, but because they’re private, personal, and mine.
God, just thinking about Diablo seeing them makes my whole body cringe. Facing him at tomorrow’s debate when he knows exactly what I look like in my most intimate moments is going to be spectacularly awkward, to say the least.
But if I dwell on that and if I obsess over the photos leaking, I will give Hollis exactly what he wants. The power to keep me afraid.
Through all of it, DK has been his usual incredible self. When the comments get mean, my phone lights up with another text reminding me that I’m not facing this alone. That I have him. That I have people who love me. That I have a groundswell of supporters standing behind me posting:RayneservesandWe’re still Making it Rayne over here.
His latest text finally cracks through the tension. I’m getting ready for bed when I receive a selfie. He’s wearing a light blue Post-it note on his bare chest with TEAM LUNA! written in black block letters and sporting the cheesiest grin ever.
I slide into bed and hit him up on FaceTime.
He answers, framed him from the chest up, his shoulders relaxing against the dark headboard of his bed. The Post-it note is still stuck to his chest, a ridiculous, perfect contrast to the sexiness of him topless and wearing a black durag. Pleasure flutters through me.
“There’s that beautiful smile,” he says, grinning back.
“Light blue is definitely your color.”
“I’ll wear it everyday if it keeps that smile on your face. I’ve missed it.” His expression softens, his gaze searching mine through the screen. “How are you doing?”
“I’m okay… mostly,” I admit. “Tired. A little bruised by the comments, but ready to move forward. I’m not letting him steal anything else from me.”
“He doesn’t own a thing of yours,” DK says firmly.
“He actually still does.”
“What?”
I stare at him, looking at the steady, fierce devotion in his eyes. Hollis tried to turn my phone, my camera, and my private expression of desire into a weapon of shame. He made me afraid to share this intimacy with DK.
A spark of defiance flares in my chest. If I’m taking my power back, I’m taking all of it. Every single piece.
I prop my phone against the headboard on top of some pillows. Sitting up in front of the camera, I undo the first button on my pajama top.
“Luna.” His voice drops into that deeper, smoky register. “Are you sure?”
“Completely sure.” My hand shakes a little, but I keep going. I pop another button. “I trust you.” Then another. “And I trust myself.” I release the final one and slide the panels apart, baring my breasts.
I look at the box on the screen with me in the corner. I’m no longer shaking. I want DK to see everything.Iwant to see everything. I’m in control here. My decision. The screen is a window, and the man on the other side of it is the only one invited in.
I slip off the satin top and the matching bottoms. Naked, just as I’d been that day. But I’m not that same woman.
DK exhales a raspy breath. “Fuck, Luna.”
For a second, the old instinct to cover myself creeps in—the echo of a past that told me my body wasn’t good enough. But I fight against it. Leaning into the moment, I arch my back, lettingmy chest rise, letting the full, rich curves of my hips and the soft, heavy drape of my belly rest naturally.
