Chapter 4

Emery’s pov

I grabbed the hem of his oversized jersey, frantically pulling it back down over my hip to cover the dark bruise his father had left two days ago.

My heart hammered so violently against my ribs that I couldn't form a single coherent sentence to defend myself.

Jax didn't move an inch, his chest heaving under his dark hoodie as his intense blue eyes locked onto where my hands were clutching the green fabric. But as the heavy silence stretched between us, his gaze didn't stay on my hip. I caught the subtle, heavy drop of his eyes, tracking the soft curve of my bare thighs exposed beneath the hem of his oversized sweater.

I looked down at myself, suddenly hyper-aware of how short the jersey was on me and how bare my legs were in the cold air of his bedroom. When I looked back up, the ruthless, cold composure he usually wore had a tiny crack in it; a dark flush crept up his throat, and he quickly jerked his gaze back to my face, jaw locking tight as if he’d been caught doing something forbidden.

A tiny, unsettling realization took root in my chest as I watched him swallow hard. He wasn't just angry about the mark, and he wasn't just looking at me like an annoying step-sibling he hated. He was affected. The dark, suffocating cruelty he had thrown at me since the day my mother married his father wasn't just hatred, it was covering up a filthy, dangerous attraction he couldn't control.

He had spent months treating me like dirt, but the sudden emotion from him right now was something completely new. If he realized what his father was doing behind closed doors, who am I kidding?

He would never find out.

"It's nothing, Jax, I just bumped into the corner of my nightstand in the dark," I lied, my voice shaking so hard it barely sounded like my own.

He didn't buy the lie for a single second, his jaw clenching until the sharp muscle ticked wildly under his skin. He stepped even closer, his broad chest blocking out every drop of light in the room until his shadow swallowed me whole.

"Don't lie to my face, Emery, because a nightstand doesn't leave finger marks on your skin," he growled. I pressed my back as flat as I could against the counter, silently praying that Miller or Brody would walk back into the room to break the suffocating tension.

Before Jax could press me any further, heavy footsteps echoed down the hallway, accompanied by the loud clatter of hockey bags being tossed onto the floor. Miller stepped into the kitchen fully dressed in his team warm-ups, resting one hand casually on his hip while holding my phone up between his fingers.

"Time to hit the ice, captain, or coach is going to have us doing lines until we throw up," Miller called out, completely oblivious to the silent storm happening near the sink. Jax didn't break eye contact with me for three agonizing seconds, his dark eyes searching my face as if trying to rip the truth straight out of my skull.

Finally, he stepped back, leaving an icy void where his overwhelming heat had just been.

"We aren't finished with this conversation, Emery," he warned softly, turning around to grab his keys off the island without looking back at me. Miller smirked as he walked past me, casually tapping my phone against my shoulder to remind me of the invisible collar around my neck.

"Remember the rules, little virgin, you have two hours to get this place spotless and wash our gear before we get back," he taunted, dropping a massive pile of dirty laundry right at my feet. Brody followed close behind him, giving me a long, lingering look that made my skin crawl before the heavy front door slammed shut behind them.

The sudden silence of the empty house settled over me like a heavy lead blanket, leaving me trembling alone in the messy kitchen. I collapsed onto my knees on the cold floor, carefully picking up the sharp shards of broken glass before they could cut into my bare feet.

Every time I wiped a drop of spilled coffee from the floor, my mind raced through every possible scenario of what would happen if they leaked my photos.

My savings account was locked inside that phone, and if I couldn't access my dashboard, my entire escape plan was dead in the water. I needed to find a way to get my phone back from Miller before their demands turned into something I couldn't survive.

I finished cleaning the kitchen, carried their heavy laundry bags down to the basement, and started the first load of sweaty hockey gear. Standing in the dim basement light, I looked at the small high window near the foundation, realizing how completely trapped I really was.

I couldn't run to the police without proof, and I couldn't tell my stepfather without risking him discovering the cash I had hidden in my mattress. My secret account was supposed to be my golden ticket out of this hellhole, but now it was just another cage locking me inside.

I dragged myself back upstairs to wait for them, counting down every miserable minute until their practice ended.

At noon, the loud rumble of Jax’s truck pulled into the driveway, making my stomach tie itself into tight, painful knots all over again. The front door swung open, and the three of them sauntered inside, smelling like cheap body spray.

Miller immediately threw his heavy duffel bag onto the couch, casually tossing my phone onto the dining table like it was nothing. "House looks clean, stepsister, maybe you actually are good for something around here," Brody called out, kicking off his shoes and dropping onto the sofa with his legs spread wide.

I stood near the kitchen doorway, keeping my arms wrapped tightly around my chest as I stared at my phone sitting on the polished wood.

Jax walked past his friends without saying a word, heading straight toward the kitchen to grab a gallon of water from the fridge. He took a long drink, his eyes tracking my every movement over the plastic rim as if watching a target.

Miller leaned against the dining table, picking up my phone and twirling it between his fingers while looking at me with a wicked, calculating smile.

"So, captain and I were talking on the drive back from the rink," Miller lied, casting a quick glance over at Jax, who remained completely silent near the counter.

"We decided that doing chores around the house isn't quite enough to pay off your debt to us."

My breath hitched in my throat as I took a tiny step backward, my heart hammering against my ribs in pure dread.

"I did everything you asked me to do today, Miller," I whispered desperately.

"I cleaned your mess, I washed your clothes, and I stayed out of your way just like you wanted."

Brody chuckled from the couch, leaning his head back against the cushions to watch the show unfolding in the dining room.

"That was just the warm-up, Emery," he chimed in, his tone dripping with a dark promise that chilled me to the bone. "If you want to keep your little online secret safe from the whole world, the real price starts tonight."

Miller unlocked the phone screen, holding it up so I could see my profile picture glowing in the dim afternoon light. "You like taking dirty pictures for strangers who pay you online, right?" He purred, stepping closer until he was blocking my path to the hallway stairs.

"So tonight, you're going to set up your little ring light right here in the living room, and you're going to put on a private show just for the three of us."

I froze in horror, my eyes darting frantically to Jax, expecting him to stop his teammate from pushing things this far under his own roof.

Jax set the water jug down on the counter with a loud, heavy thud that echoed sharply through the room. He walked over to where Miller was standing, his face an unreadable mask of ice as he looked down at me.

"You wanted to play adult games for cash, Emery, so now you play by our rules," Jax said, his deep voice devoid of any mercy or warmth. “We want a private show.”