Page 8 of One Forbidden Moment

In the back of his mind, he understood he'd committed a crime.A big one.But no one could touch him in Everstill.No cops.No laws.No consequences.

"Stop your crying," he growled.

She babbled between sobs.The words tumbled out in broken pieces."I want to go home—I want my mom—please—I don't want to be here—please—"

The more he waited for her to control herself, the harder she cried.Her whole body shook with fear, her hands covering her face like she could hide from him, from this place, from everything.

"What's your name?"he demanded.

She hiccupped, breath catching."J-Jillian," she whispered."Jillian Emerson."

He let the name settle in his mind.Jillian.It fit her.Soft and feminine.

"How old are you?"

She hesitated, eyes darting away."Twenty."

He stilled.Barely grown.Barely anything.Too young to be alone.Hell, she probably lived with her parents.She had people missing her.

His grip softened without him meaning to.He released her hair and stepped back a fraction, giving her space to breathe.

"Use the bathroom," he said, voice rough."Clean your face.Take a shower.Do whatever you need to do to calm down.I'll get you something to eat."

She blinked at him, sniffling, obviously unsure whether to trust the shift in his tone.He pointed down the short hallway."Bathroom's there."

She hesitated, then edged past him, keeping her back to the wall until she reached the door.She slipped inside and closed it quietly, the click of the latch sounding loud in the small house.

Moe rubbed his hand over his face.He didn't know what the hell he was doing.He didn't know why he cared if she cried or not.He just knew he needed her to calm down before he lost his damn mind.

Fucking hell, he thought she was older.

She was twenty.Practically a baby.

He walked into the kitchen and opened the fridge.An unopened container of milk sat on the top shelf.A package of half-thawed ground hamburger.A dozen eggs.Everything looked fresh, like he hadn't been gone for weeks.

He stepped to the side and opened the cabinet.A loaf of bread waited inside, soft and fresh, and unopened.

Everstill had stocked his house.

Just like the grocery store always stocked itself.

This place took care of its men.

And now it would take care of Jillian.