Page 43 of Noel Secrets

“Don’t worry about me. Just stay on this train! I mean it, Michael! Don’t you dare leave me alone!”

Visible strength filled his eyes. He growled as he used every muscle in his body to lift himself up against the momentum of the train’s pace, and soon they were sitting side by side, their breaths heaving from exertion.

Jayda shook her head, tears blurring her vision. “I thought—” Her voice cracked. “I thought you were gone.”

He lifted a weak arm, pulling her against him, his coat rough, his arms fierce. She buried her face against his chest, the beat of his heart loud and steady beneath her cheek. For the first time since this nightmare began, she let herself believe they were safe. Just for this moment. She knew there would be more.

But for now, it was just them.

The train thundered on into the Rockies, but for Jayda, the storm inside finally broke, and she knew she needed Michael beside her. Not just right now but forever. Not just to survive this train ride but to surviveeverything.

And that realization terrified her more than the fight.

Michael’s hand lingered on her cheek, thumb brushing away snow. His eyes softened, but his jaw stayed tight. “We’re not safe yet. There could still be others wandering about on this train. But as long as I’m here, you’re not alone.”

Jayda swallowed hard. For the first time in years, she believed it.

Michael kept his arm snug around Jayda’s shoulders as they crept down the narrow corridor of their sleeper car. Every step he took was calculated, his body angled just enough to shield her from the curious eyes of fellow passengers who peeked out of their cabins in fear. Simon’s body had only been discovered an hour ago, and the atmosphere aboard the train stretched thin with tension. Every noise caused people to jump.

Jayda leaned slightly against him, her stride slower than normal. She was still shaken, weak from saving him. Michael held her tight for her reassurance but also for his own. The tremor in her hand when she smoothed her hair back behind her ear made him want to tell her it was over, that she could breathe again, but he knew better. These men weren’t going anywhere.

Michael reached his cabin. He fished out the key, slid it into the lock, and pushed the door open, expecting solitude to regroup.

Only they weren’t alone.

His parents sat waiting for him.

“We need to talk,” his mother said from the corner, her voice taut with maternal command. She sat rigidly on the bench, her hands folded in her lap like a judge ready to hand down asentence. Beside her, Ed leaned back, arms crossed, his brow creased in the grim frown Michael knew too well.

For a heartbeat, Michael froze. His hand tightened instinctively on Jayda’s arm.

“Sure but can you give us a few moments?” he asked, masking the jolt of alarm with forced calm. “Everyone’s on edge.”

Ginny’s eyes swept immediately to Jayda. A flicker of calculation passed across her features, her disapproval barely veiled. “We have a lot that needs to be discussed. Privately.”

Jayda shifted uncomfortably. “I can give you time?—”

“No.” Michael’s voice came out sharper than he intended. He tightened his hold on her hand before she could retreat. “She stays.”

“Michael,” his dad rumbled, his deep baritone cutting through the cramped air of the cabin. “The conductor already announced that everyone is to return to their rooms until we reach Denver. You shouldn’t even be wandering through the cars. And yet here you are…with Jayda.”

The last word was weighted, as if Jayda was an interloper—someone who didn’t belong.

Michael bristled. “It’sJayda,” he snapped. “Your…”Daughter?That didn’t feel right. “Family,” he said instead. “I’m not leaving her alone. Not when there’s a killer on this train.”

Ginny leaned forward slightly, her gaze fixed, deliberate. “We’re not blind, Michael. We see what’s happening between you two. But this…this sudden attachment concerns us.”

Jayda looked down at the floor. He could feel her wanting to disappear into the narrow space between the bunks.

Michael angled himself, shielding her as best he could in the cramped space. “It’s not sudden,” he said evenly, though anger boiled beneath the surface. “It’s been there for years. Since high school, if you want the truth.”

Ed blinked, surprised. “High school? Michael, you’ve never said?—”

“Of course I said nothing,” he cut his father off. His voice rose, and he forced himself to rein it back, lowering the volume but not the intensity. “I said nothing because I knew what you’d think. That it was wrong. So I hurt her instead. I pushed my feelings down and made her time in our home miserable, all to avoid the truth. I won’t hurt her anymore, and I won’t deny how I feel either. If that bothers you, so be it. I won’t be apologizing either.”

Jayda’s head jerked up at that. He felt her eyes on him, wide and startled. But he couldn’t stop. The dam had cracked, and years of unspoken words rushed forward.

Ginny pressed her hand to her chest. “Michael. She was like a sister to you.”