Page 20 of Noel Secrets
Michael caught himself rubbing the back of his neck, a nervous tic he hated. “And you’re sure this isn’t just some old, irrelevant?—”
“No.” Her eyes locked on his, fierce and cutting. “I’ve been chased. Cornered. I almost didn’t make it to this train alive. Somebody wants these documents. And I can’t do this alone, Michael. I need?—”
She stopped short, swallowed.
Michael let out a breath, dropped the paper onto the bunk. “You’re asking me for myjournalistic help,then?”
“Yes.” Her tone was clipped, defensive. “You know how to dig. How to follow trails. If anyone can figure out who Veronica Carlisle really was and where she went, it’s you.”
For a long moment, heavy silence wrapped around them. Michael leaned against the wall, folding his arms, studying her. Jayda, always too composed, always refusing to let him or anyone see the cracks, now stared at him like he was her last lifeline.
But he couldn’t let it be that simple.
“Do you really want my help?” he asked quietly.
Her brow furrowed. “I just said?—”
“No.” He cut her off, his voice lower now, steadier. “Do you really want it? Because if you do…I want something, too.”
Her mouth parted, then snapped shut. Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Of course. There it is. The catch.”
“Jayda—”
She stood, folding the papers with quick, jerky hands, shoving them against her chest. Her curls bounced as she shook her head. “Forget it. I should’ve known. You’ve always wanted me gone. Out of your perfect family. Out of your mother’s house. Out of your life.”
“That’s not?—”
“You’ll have to talk to Ginny about that,” she snapped. “She’s the one who kept me, who insisted I stay, who made me family whether you—or I—liked it. If you want me out, talk to her.”
She turned, heading for the door, but Michael’s hand shot out before he could stop himself. His fingers wrapped around hers, warm and trembling.
“Wait,” he said.
She froze, half-turned, her breath quick. He tugged her gently back, not enough to hurt, but enough to make her face him.
Their eyes collided. The train swayed. Time stretched between them.
“My mother loves you,” he said roughly. “You know that, right?”
Jayda blinked, startled.
“And Dad too. You are…youarefamily. To them. That’s all I’m asking for. That you recognize how much they love you.” His voice softened, betraying more than he intended. “And I—” He stopped, jaw tightening. He wasn’t ready to peel back that last layer, not with her life on the line.
Her lips parted, caught between disbelief and skepticism. “You what?”
Michael’s hand was still around hers. He could feel the pulse in her wrist, rapid against his fingers.
He should let go. He didn’t.
Michael swallowed hard, refusing to let the words that had almost escaped his mouth have air. She was important—far too important—but he’d never let himself admit that, not even in the privacy of his own mind. Instead, he forced the tightening in his chest down and reached for safer ground.
“Never mind.” He cleared his throat. “How did you even get in here without a key?” His voice was rougher than he meant, but he let his words anchor him to reason. Keep this meeting business.
Jayda’s lips tilted, not in a smile but in the barest acknowledgment of what she’d done. She shrugged. “I lifted it from your wallet.”
His brows rose. “You—what?” He reached for his wallet, finding his second key gone.
“A little trick I learned when I was young. You really shouldn’t leave your wallet on the table like that. You’re asking for trouble.”
