Joan the Made (Throwbacks Series, Book 1)

Chapter 42

It's the final day of shooting for the Strand promotional vid, an event that I planned to skip to avoid bumping in to Lexi and facing her wrath. She must know that I escaped Adam's clutches, and she is definitely aware that I was planning to use the video footage I collected to expose her and the headmaster for their illegal prostitution ring. But she's made no effort to find me, so Crew thinks it's safe for me to assume that she's leaving me alone for a reason.

For the Circe Night plan to work, I need to be sure that the vid is polished and that my invitation to the screening is still valid. That means showing up on Strand's set to tape any final footage needed for the vid.

As Nic and I wait for the car to pick us up, I try to even out my shallow breathing.

"Relax. I've got your back this time, so everything will be fine," Nic says.

"Are you sober?"

Nic's body tenses at my question. Our car pulls up, and he stares straight ahead as he climbs inside. On the ride over, I run potential scenarios over and over in my mind if Strand security tries to carry me off. This is a mistake. I know too much. Lexi will retire me if she gets the chance.

My breathing comes faster again. Nic's warm hand covers mine, and I nearly jerk away in surprise. Why is he being nice after I insulted him? His touch is oddly comforting, a reminder that I'm part of more than a rebellion; I'm part of a group that watches out for each other. I turn my hand so that our palms touch and squeeze his hand back.

"Joan, there's something I should have said a long time ago," Nic says, leaning toward me.

"What?"

"Thank you," his voice comes out in a hoarse whisper.

"Thank me by staying clean."

"That's not what I'm thanking you for. Well, it is, sort of, but it's more than that. You've given me something to believe—"

Nic's clumsy speech is cut off when our car stops at Strand's studios. I watch his face, waiting for him to continue, but he doesn't. Nic, at a loss for what to say, stumbling over his words?

I disconnect my hand from his and give him a half shrug, as uncomfortable with the fervent sincerity in his eyes as he seems to be.

We walk onto the Strand lot, and my fear falls away as I prepare for another performance. Not the one Blake needs me to deliver, but the one that I have to provide for Lexi. I am whole, unbroken in spite of her best effort. I have to hide the terrible pain I've endured over the past few days because it will only give her satisfaction to see me suffer.

The set is crawling with actors and stagehands. Blake presides over it all, enjoying his complete control of all of his minions. He deigns to give Nic and me a brief nod as he notes our arrival.

There's a new Sofia managing the actors on set. She's much younger than the one who helped me access the list of Strand executives. She walks over to Nic and me, her finger tapping nervously on the edge of her tablet.

"Blake needs final up-close shots of each of you. Stand by. He'll call you when he's ready."

Her eyes connect with mine, and I follow her as she makes her way toward the back of the set.

"I have a message for you," she says when we're a little distance away from the crowd.

"Is it from the stage manager who was here before you? Is she okay?"

The Sofia shakes her head. "My message is from the Darwin."

I stop breathing.

"She says thank you for helping her root out the traitor on set," the Sofia says. She gulps. "She's been replaced by me. My predecessor has been taken out with the rest of the trash, as I will be if I betray my betters."