Harper's Rules 1 & 2

Chapter 19: Harper

The morning after I left Jake's house feeling more pathetic than a walk of shame, my phone lit up with multiple contacts. The first message was from Ellie, sent to both me and Jake.

Ellie: Jake!!! Did you know about these!?
Ellie: link
Ellie: I can't unsee this shit.

Like an absolute dumbass, I clicked on the link. It dragged me to a girl name Shayla's social media page.

Who the fuck is Shay Who -

I scrolled down to a set of unflattering pictures of skank number two from the pool, along with a few pictures of Emily and Bambi, and my stomach dropped.

This can't be good. Coincidences never are.

Jacob Harrison, USC's quarterback and now top of my new naughty boys list!!! 🔥🤭🔥🥵🔥 link

"I'm going to regret this," I mumbled and clicked on the link.

My nose cringed up slightly as I braced myself for a video or pictures of my personal rant against Emily in a girl-bully smear campaign attempt.

What I saw instead dropped my phone into my lap.

Of all sites Ellie could've gotten sent, this one opened a Pornhub page. While visually bad, unrealistic sex wasn't what my erupted my lady fireworks, I respected others' preferences. This particular page however, turned my stomach.

What the fuck of all fucks!?

My eyes widened at seven pictures of Jake, each identical to a picture that he'd sent privately to my phone over the past three years. Seven pictures total of Jake were posted, no doubt it was him because his face was as clearly identifiable as the rest of his naked and full erection glory. Once I scrolled down to the last one, I flipped my finger up and looked at the account.

Of course it's anonymous.

The additional punch in the boob was the title.

"Jacob Harrison, USC quarterback just how his girlfriend sees him!"

What the fuck!? Are these...

My thumbs flew over my phone, where I closed out the browser app and looked at my 'EBO' album.

Eye bleach only, if not obvious.

Only seven pictures lived in this password-protected folder and my chest squeezed concave with tension when I pulled up exactly the same seven pictures that were online. The most recently added photo was the nude Jake had texted me before I'd driven down here.

They're the exact same seven pictures Jake himself had sent... directly to me.

Either my phone, Jake's, or both were hacked.

"What the..." I murmured and pawed through my phone. "Who violated you, baby?"

A quick look at my data usage was the only indication I needed. Other than a mostly flatlined, almost nonexistent pattern, a data usage surge spiked on my phone. A quick time check showed this happened roughly eight hours ago.

"Skank two, are you smarter than you looked?" I murmured, shook my head, and sank my ass down into my uncomfortable desk chair. My chest lifted and pitched with a sharp exhale while I tapped my fingernails onto my desk and considered my next options. "Whoever you were, you've messed with the wrong bitch."

I wouldn't have ever placed myself into a hacker category, since I barely operated a microwave successfully. But I knew the text codes that checked if my phone had been hacked and, one removed SIM card later, I followed enough geocoded breadcrumbs that placed the IP address of the intrusion within a block of Jake's house.