Page 33 of Noel Secrets

Michael gritted his teeth, muscles straining as he tried to hold them steady, but momentum was against him. The hatchback lurched sideways, the headlights cutting wild arcs across the snow.

Jayda braced herself against the dash, eyes wide, lips parted in a silent scream.

And then?—

The world tilted.

The car slid off the road, crunching into the bank with a bone-jarring slam. The engine sputtered and died.

For a moment, silence. Only the sound of their ragged breathing.

Michael’s hands still gripped the wheel, knuckles aching. His chest heaved, heart pounding in his ears. Slowly, he turned his head toward Jayda.

“You okay?” he asked, voice rough.

She nodded quickly, but her eyes were still wide, adrenaline shining there. “I think so. You?”

“I’m fine,” he said, though his pulse screamed otherwise. He forced his hands off the wheel, flexing fingers that still trembled. “We’re off the road.”

Jayda turned to look out her window. Snow pressed up against the glass, the world outside dark and distorted. She drew a sharp breath. “They’re still out there. But if we stay here, we’ll freeze to death.”

Michael searched the street above. Headlights glowed on the road above, lingering for a beat before sliding away into the storm.

But for how long until they circled back to finish them?

Michael exhaled hard. They were being hunted. And the night was only beginning.

Chapter Nine

Snowflakes stung Jayda’s cheeks as the sharp bite of the wind assaulted her. The hatchback sat half-buried at the side of the road, its hazard lights winking weakly through the blizzard. The shot-out tire had forced them off, the other car speeding away like a predator knowing its prey couldn’t run. Jayda’s heart pounded so hard she was sure Michael could hear it.

“They’re going to come back,” she whispered, scanning the white haze of the storm, every shadow a threat, every gust of wind sounding like an engine drawing near.

Michael pressed close, his hand finding her elbow. “I know. Which is why we can’t stay here.” His voice was firm, calm in a way that helped anchor her spiraling thoughts. “Come on. We need to move.”

Her boots crunched through the growing snowdrifts as they started down a narrow street branching away from the highway. The storm howled. Visibility shrank to only a few feet ahead. Jayda hugged her arms tight against her body, shivering not only from the cold but from the knowledge that whoever had shot their tire wasn’t done. Whoever wanted Veronica Carlislesilenced—and anyone standing in the way—wouldn’t let a snowstorm stop them.

“Michael,” she said, her voice breaking with the strain, “if they find us out here…”

“They won’t,” he interrupted, his hand brushing hers as they trudged forward together. “We’ll find shelter first. Stay with me.”

His confidence wasn’t arrogance; it was conviction. Something in it seeped into her bones, warming her in a way the storm couldn’t touch. She tightened her jaw and kept moving, focusing on the rhythm of her steps and the dark outline of houses beginning to take shape through the curtain of snow.

But before they reached the street of houses, a car rolled slowly down the road, its headlights cutting through the white squall. The tires crunched over the snow—too slow, too careful. Jayda’s heart leapt into her throat.

“Hide,” Michael ordered. He pulled her against the shadow of a two-story home, its windows dark, curtains drawn tight. The porch beckoned as a place to protect them from view. They ran up the stairs and pressed close against the wall.

The car crept past, the driver’s face a blur behind the frost-laced windshield. The brake lights glowed red for one terrifying second, but then the car rolled on. Jayda held her breath until the glow disappeared into the snow.

Only then did Michael step back and knock firmly on the door of the dark house.

“Are you crazy?” she whispered harshly. “What if it’s not safe?”

“It’s safer than freezing out here,” he said, his eyes locking on hers, steady. “Trust me, Jayda. Just trust me.”

She wanted to argue, but her bones felt like ice, and every second outside put them closer to being hunted down or freezingto death. She swallowed her fear and stayed close to him as the sound of shuffling footsteps echoed from within.

A light flicked on, yellow and warm against the glass pane. The door opened to reveal an older man, gray hair tucked under a cap, lines etched deep into his face. His eyes narrowed, suspicious but not unkind.