Page 42 of Noel Secrets
Unless…maybe they would, and she was missing the clues.
She huffed at taking the marshal’s word for it. He’d let her think they wouldn’t lead anywhere, possibly for his own gain.
The storm outside grew louder while the one within her reared up in anger. Snow slashed against the windows as she wasted no time, slipping the envelope of documents into her coat and out into the corridor.
The train swayed, a beast roaring through the storm, racing to the authorities.
Jayda moved quickly down the narrow passage, then pushed out onto the metal grating between cars.
The cold hit like a hammer. Wind screamed in her ears, icy needles slicing her cheeks. She gripped the railing, leaning forward, her breath torn away before she could exhale. The snow blurred everything into a blinding white void.
She pulled the envelope from her coat, fingers stiff. The papers inside—names, dates, numbers—felt like poison. If she tossed them now, let the storm swallow them, maybe this nightmare would die with Simon.
But then she saw it—the backside of one photograph. On the back, scrawled in faint pen wasLombard Street.
Her breath caught. Lombard Street. San Francisco. Was that where she went?
Jayda held the photo tight, clutching it close. Not ready to let it go. There might be more she missed.
Turning to the next car, movement behind her spun her back around just as a figure lunged from the adjoining car. A man—broad-shouldered, face half-hidden under a hood. His hand shot out, gripping her arm, slamming her into the metal wall. Pain burst in her shoulder. The envelope tumbled, and before she could stop it, the papers scattered into the storm.
“No!” she screamed, scrambling after them. But the man yanked her back, his fist raised.
She ducked, the punch banging off her temple. Stars exploded in her vision. She kicked hard, her boot connecting with his shin. He snarled, shoving her against the railing. The metal bit into her spine, cold and painful. Icy snow whipped at her face, stinging like tiny knives all over.
Fear surged. She was seconds from being thrown, from vanishing into the white abyss, over jagged rocks and sprawling gorges. The sound of the train roared in her ears, louder than her own scream.
But beneath the terror, something fierce burned. She wasn’t just a girl from the New Haven streets, fighting to survive. She was fighting to live. She had a purpose and things to do. She had…Michael. Whatever was happening between them, she needed to explore it. He’d told his mother he’d always loved her.
Was that what this was between them, always lying beneath their quarrels?
Was it love?
The man lunged again, grabbing for her throat. She twisted, using his momentum to slam his arm against the rail. He grunted, stumbling, but he was still stronger, heavier. He shoved back, forcing her onto the narrow edge of the platform. Her boots slipped on ice. Nothing between her and the drop but a few inches of frozen steel.
I’m going to die. I’ll never tell Michael I?—
“Jayda!”
The shout ripped through the wind. Michael burst from the adjoining car, eyes wild. He grabbed the man from behind, wrenching him away from her. The force sent them both crashing into the wall.
Jayda collapsed to her knees, clutching the rail, breath ragged.
The fight blurred—fists slamming, grunts, the squeak of boots on metal. Michael fought like a man possessed, every strike carrying a desperation she’d never seen before. He wasn’t just protecting her. He was fighting to finish this chase once and for all.
“No, Michael,” Jayda shouted to get his attention. She couldn’t let him kill the man. He was better than that.
The attacker pulled back and hit Michael, sending him flying back, landing half off the train.
Jayda dropped to the grate to hold on to him, but the man straddled Michael, choking him. Jayda had to let go, praying he wouldn’t fall off the edge. If only she had her stun gun. But she didn’t, and all she could rely on was her own strength. Lifting her leg, she kicked the man in the back of the head, using the heel of her boot repeatedly to get him to let go. When the man turnedto face her, reaching for leg, Michael grabbed the man and lifted him over his head and out into the swirling snow.
But the momentum sent Michael slipping further over the edge.
Jayda screamed and reached for his shirt before she lost him forever. She landed on him, locking her boot on the railing, holding him with all her might, stopping him from following the man over.
With their faces inches apart, she shouted, “Hold on!” She gripped his coat while ice whipped at their faces. “Don’t you dare go over!”
His blue eyes locked on her. But she didn’t see fear for himself. She saw concern for her. “Are you hurt? Did he hurt you?”
