Page 78 of The Casting Couch

And just like that, she turned and started walking toward the curb like this was her Uber-fueled origin story.I followed her with my eyes, and that’s when I saw it.Just a flicker of silver beneath her jacket, where the leather pulled open as she moved.

A knife.Tucked against her ribs.

My mouth went dry.

Not the kind of blade you whip out to open a package.The kind you bring when you’re expecting the night to end in blood or cash.

I glanced at Bradley, who was still frozen behind me, looking like a baby deer about to cry.He hadn’t seen it.

I wanted to warn him.I wanted to pull him into the hostel, slam the door, and pretend none of this was happening.But Riley caught my eye right then, gave me a look that saidGo ahead.Try something,and I decided I liked having my intestines inside my body.

Bradley stepped up beside me, quiet and trembling.

“She’s not gonna hurt me,” he muttered, like he was trying to convince himself.

I didn’t answer.Because I wasn’t sure.

“She’s just...intense,” he said.

“She’s terrifying,” I corrected.

He gave a small laugh that didn’t reach his eyes.“The faster I pay her, the faster she’s out of my life.”

God.That crushed me.He sounded so exhausted.So used to people being dangerous and awful and lurking with knives.Like this was just a normal day for him.

I flagged down a cab.

Riley climbed into the front like she owned the car, and maybe the cab company.Bradley and I slid into the back.He didn’t look at me.He just stared out the window like he could outrun this whole mess by pretending it wasn’t real.

“I’m sorry,” he said after a minute.“I didn’t want you to get pulled into this.”

“You didn’t,” I said.“She did.”

Which was true.But it wasn’t the whole truth.Because the second she showed up, the second I saw him freeze up like that, I’d chosen to step in.

Something had shifted during the shoot today.Not just the end of it, when I, well, crossed a line I hadn’t even known I was standing on.But everything.Watching him go through that?Watching him fight through the worst day of his life and still try to do the right thing?

I’d seen people break from a lot less.

But Bradley Mitchell kept standing.Kept trying.

And now he was sitting beside me, looking scared and humiliated and so damn brave, and all I could think was:

I’ll protect you.No matter what.

Even from leather-clad knife-wielding women from hell.

The cab jerked to a stop in front of the Boys On Film studio.Riley was out before the driver even finished braking.

“Let’s go,” she called over her shoulder.“Chop-chop.”

Bradley didn’t move.

“She scares me,” he mumbled.

“She scares me,” I replied.“But she doesn’t get to bully us.”

He looked up at me, startled.Then gave a small, stunned smile.Like maybe he hadn’t realized anyone would ever include themselves in his us.

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