Page 2 of Noel Secrets
But her pink stun gun would…and did. It had stopped him cold. Or more like a heated bolt of lightning Jayda hadn’tthought. With one hand she’d pressed the button, the other, she’d used to slam the stun gun against his side. The click-click-zap filled the air, and so did his scream. A terrifying howl of pain and rage as his body jerked violently before her.
She stunned someone.
And now all she could do was wonder how this had happened.
Jayda stood face to face with the man, trembling in shock as she watched him drop to the floor and writhe…all because of her.
Heart thudding, she turned with a pivot to retreat, wondering if her life would always be a fight to survive.
Jayda couldn’t wait to find out.
But before she ran, a glossy photo caught her eye mid-stride. There, among the mess from the spilled file, was a picture of a woman. Pretty. Late twenties. Boarding a train.
Something about her face struck Jayda. Not just her expression—but the fear in her eyes.
Was this the woman the man had come for?
Without thinking, Jayda grabbed the photo and a few scattered documents. Another photo of the woman was beneath the papers, and Jayda took it too and ran again for the stairs.
Her phone buzzed in her purse. She yanked it out, hoping to call the police, but the screen showed the caller:Ginny Blair.
Jayda groaned.
Foster mom #4. Christmas-crazy. Holiday obsessed. And the closest thing Jayda ever had to a mom after her birth mom died.
Not now, Ginny.
Jayda ignored the call, heart pounding. She barreled down the stairs. First floor in sight. She swung the door wide and burst out just as the elevator dinged ten feet away.
The elevator opened. The man stepped out. Limping. Gun now in his hand.
He didn’t see her but scanned the crowd.
Jayda took cover and ducked behind a pillar, then sprinted for the exit.
Where was security? She passed the check-in desk—empty. The security guard was probably in the breakroom having a snack. Figures when they are needed most.
She reached the front doors. Daylight. Almost safe. She looked back—he’d spotted her, limping her way.
“Gun!” she yelled and raced outside and down the steps.
Jayda ran harder, away from the chaos she stirred up behind her, needing to put distance between her and the man. She could only hope he’d been stopped or derailed from chasing her.
Her phone rang. Ginny again. Anyone but Ginny, but that’s all Jayda had to work with. At least if the man caught up with her, Ginny would be on the phone.
Jayda answered purely out of selfishness. “Ginny!” she panted as she ran and looked over her shoulder across the snow-laden courtyard. At any other time, the sight would be postcard-worthy.
“Jayda? Are you all right?” Ginny’s chipper voice rang in her ear. “Are you crying? Oh, honey, you sound so upset?—”
“I’m not,”—she panted— “not crying—running.”
“Running? Where? Oh, never mind. Listen. I just wanted to tell you about the twins we started fostering last month—four years old, both of them, and I swear I’m going gray. Oh, what a handful! And?—”
“Ginny. Not a good time.”
“Well, when is it a good time with you, huh? You never come home anymore. Which is why I called. We’re having a holiday reunion. The whole family is getting together for the entire week. They would love to see you. And so would I. We’re all so proud of you and all you’ve accomplished. Will you come?”
Jayda skidded around a corner and slipped into the alley behind the next building. No sign of the man. Had she lost him?
Table of Contents
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