Page 49 of Noel Secrets
Jayda’s throat constricted. “Michael, don’t.” She reached for him, her palm flat against his chest, meaning to push him back, meaning to protect him instead.
But then, from the other side, another man swung the butt of a pistol. The crack against Michael’s skull was sickening. His body folded to the floor before Jayda could shout, no.
“Michael!” Her scream tore out of her as she dropped beside him. His chest still rose and fell, but his eyes were closed, lashes dark against his cheek. A lump was already forming on his temple.
The man across from her leaned forward, pistol steady, eyes cold. “This isn’t his fight. It’s ours.”
Jayda’s mind raced, heart battering against her ribs. She swallowed hard, forcing herself upright, though her whole body shook. “I don’t want a fight with you,” she said quickly, firmly. Her voice surprised her—calm, even. Like she was already in the courtroom, standing before a jury.
The man tilted his head, amused.
Jayda pushed forward. “I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. That’s all. I’m a law student. I…I tend to get caught up in the rules. You were breaking the rules—taking that case file out of the library. That’s why I reacted.” She nodded toward his gun. “I would never have used my stun gun if you hadn’t pulled that on me first.”
His lips quirked. He was enjoying this.
Her hands trembled, but she clasped them tightly in her lap, steadying her voice. “The papers are gone. I can’t give you what you want.”
The man’s smile vanished. “Oh, you’ll give me exactly what I want.” He leaned closer, the gun now angled slightly toward Michael’s unconscious body. “You’re going to lead me straight to my sister.”
Jayda’s pulse surged. Veronica was hissister? Was this how he treated his family? He could take a lesson from the Blairs.
She schooled her face into neutrality, summoning every ounce of training, every courtroom rebuttal she’d practiced in mock trials. “I don’t know where she is,” she said flatly.
The silence that followed suffocated her, but she kept her expression still, taking slow breaths.
His eyes narrowed.
The muzzle of the gun dipped until it rested directly over Michael.
Jayda’s composure fractured. Her body moved before her mind could catch up. She lunged forward, falling over Michael, her arms covering him, her face pressed against his chest. “Fine!” The word ripped from her throat, losing this battle so soon, but she had no other choice.I’m so sorry, Veronica.“She’s in California. Just leave him alone!”
For a heartbeat, the only sound in the car was Jayda’s ragged breathing and the hum of the engine.
“San Fran? I should have known. Our traitorous mother’s hometown.”
Jayda dropped her gaze, knowing she gave more information away even without saying the city. Some lawyer she would have made.
Then a low chuckle rolled out of the man. Veronica’s blood relative, who was out for her blood, leaned back, relaxed again, the pistol shifting its aim back to Jayda. His smile was satisfied, almost tender in its cruelty. “I knew you’d see it my way. Get him out of here.”
“No!”
The car slowed, and the second man opened the door just enough to kick Michael to the curb. The door shut before she could see if he was all right. The car took off again, heading up the mountain pass, leaving Michael behind. Jayda could only pray Ginny and Ed would find him in time.
And that they would find her too. Right now, the only place Jayda wanted to be was home with her family.
The first thing Michael felt was cold. The icy wind bit into his skin, stole his breath, and scraped at his lungs. His body ached as if it had been wrung out and discarded, every bone protesting as he stirred from a frozen snowbank. When he opened his eyes, flakes of snow fell onto his lashes, and the world around him was white and spinning. He was lying half on the frozen shoulder of a mountain road, half in a drift, the crunch of distant tires still ringing in his ears.
For a long, heart-stopping second, he couldn’t place where he was—or why. Then it all came back in a rush: the black car, the men, Jayda’s scream muffled under their grip, his own desperate attempt to shield her before something cracked against his skull.
Jayda.
The word was a shout inside his mind, louder than his pulse.
He pushed himself upright too fast, his head reeling. He staggered, boots slipping on the icy gravel. His hands fumbled for purchase on the guardrail. The car—where was the car? He spun, his gaze sweeping the winding road. The sound of an engine roared faintly in the distance, already climbing higher into the mountains, carrying her farther and farther away.
“Michael!”
The voice hit him through the haze, clear and frantic. A yellow cab skidded to a stop on the icy road, brakes squealing. Out tumbled his father, his overcoat whipping in the wind, and Ginny right behind, clutching her scarf. They were both running to him before he could find his balance, their faces a mixture of fear and relief.
