One Forbidden Moment (Everstill #2)

Chapter 1

Moe

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Moe leaned low over the motorcycle and opened the throttle. Speed was the only comfort he could feel. After the timeless days and nights in Everstill, this place vibrated under his skin and left him anxious.

He hadn't stopped running since the moment he burst through the veil behind Finn and Kallie. The real world hit him hard, overwhelming his senses. Everything was too bright, too loud, too fast.

Sirens chased him through unfamiliar streets, their shrill wail ricocheting off glass buildings and metal signs until he couldn't tell where the danger was coming from anymore.

He didn't know how long he'd been riding.

It could've been minutes or hours. He could no longer judge time after living in Everstill.

But he knew one thing with absolute certainty: Finn had left Everstill with a woman, who had opened the veil, and he slipped through the shadow seam before it could close.

So he clung to the only conclusion that mattered.

All he had to do was find a woman, so he could travel back and forth too.

Ahead of him, a woman stepped out of a brick building and headed toward the sidewalk.

She was small, her attention on the strap of her bag instead of the motorcycle barreling down the street.

Moe braked hard, the bike skidding toward her.

Her gaze jerked up. Her eyes went wide, but she didn't scream.

He didn't give her the chance.

He reached out, grabbed her, and lifted her onto the motorcycle in front of him. She was light, easy to steady with one arm as he twisted the throttle with the other. The cops rounded the corner behind him. Two cars, lights flashing, sirens splitting the air.

Moe didn't look back.

He pressed forward, chest to her back, trapping her on the motorcycle as the bike surged beneath them. Wind tore past, the world blurring as he pushed harder, rode faster, needing distance, needing time, needing the veil.

Maybe he'd made a mistake leaving so soon. He knew less about this world than he did Everstill.

He had to get back. It was the only way he could find the time to figure out what the fuck was going on. And to get back there, he needed the girl.

He didn't know anything about her except that she was small enough that he could force her to go with him.

Moe didn't ease off the throttle until the last echo of sirens dissolved into the night behind them.

The woman stayed rigid against his chest, fingers curled tightly around his forearms like she was afraid letting go would drop her straight into hell.

Maybe it would. Fuck, he didn't know what was going to happen to him.

He'd taken a gamble on kidnapping her. Didn't know if she was the key to getting back into Everstill or if she'd end up another mistake he'd have to live with.

The city lights thinned, replaced by long stretches of dark road and houses spaced far enough apart that no one would hear a bike roll up unless they were listening for trouble.

He'd lived as an outlaw before arriving in Everstill. Used to taking what he needed, moving around before anyone could find him, he only had himself to rely on to stay alive.

Quick with a knife, he kept everyone away.

The one time he failed, he'd lost his baby sister and her best friend.

The murdering rapist who killed both of them got away.

His mother died from a broken heart soon afterward.

It took him two years to track the man down.

He eliminated three people before he caught up to him.

He cut off the fucker's dick and tormented him until he bled out while he watched.

But it wasn't revenge that sent him to prison. He'd killed another man in a bar fight. Not intentionally. But back then, once he started fighting, he never stopped until the other person wasn't moving.

That stranger at the bar who had decided to get in his face stopped moving and then stopped breathing.

On his way to prison, the bus he was on stopped in the middle of the road. The guard and the driver left the vehicle and walked off into the trees. After a few minutes, Moe left the bus and started walking with his hands cuffed to the chain around his waist.

He couldn't remember how long he traveled, but he ended up in Everstill. It seemed so long ago and yet like yesterday. Time meant shit to him anymore.

The gas gauge hovered near empty. The engine's subtle tone changed, the way it always did when running on fumes. He scanned the roadside. Big yards. No lights. No cars in the driveways. People out here trusted locks, neighbors, and the idea that bad things only happened to other people.

He spotted a house with a detached garage and a wide gravel drive. There were no vehicles parked in the driveway. Perfect.

He braked hard enough that the girl jolted, gripping his arms harder. Looking straight ahead, he kept his gaze off her. If he looked, he might see fear. He didn't want to see that. Fear made him remember things he'd buried.

He turned off the motorcycle, lifted her off the bike where she teetered on the gas tank, and set her on the ground. Grabbing her wrist, he tugged her forward.

She stumbled after him, small and silent, her steps uneven on the gravel. He knocked on the front door out of habit. One quick rap, more for show than anything else. There was no movement inside. No curtains parting. No dog barking.

He leaned close to the window beside the door, cupping his hand to block the glare. Empty living room. Dark. The familiar prickle of opportunity slid through him.

He pulled her toward the side of the house. The walk-in garage door had a simple handle that turned easily. The people here really believed they were safe.

Inside, the smell of oil and dust hit him. He scanned the shelves and spotted the red gas can right away. It was half full.

He lifted the canister and carried it back to his bike. The girl hovered near the garage entrance, arms wrapped around herself, eyes wide and darting like a trapped animal.

He crouched beside the tank, the glug-glug of gasoline filling the silence. The night air brushed his hair off his forehead. The engine ticked as it cooled. Everything was too calm, too easy.

Then he heard it—the scrape of shoes on gravel.

He jerked his head up.

The woman ran at full sprint toward the road.

For a split second, he froze. Not because she was getting away, but because a surge of adrenaline grabbed him. He could catch her. He always caught what he chased. But she ran stiff and stumbling. Fear and desperation weighed her down.

She was using every bit of strength she possessed as if she'd waited her whole life for a chance to bolt.

His pulse kicked hard. He dropped the gas can, sloshing fuel onto his boot, and pushed off the ground.

She wasn't getting far. Not from him. He needed her to get back to Everstill.

Gravel scattered under his boots as he sprinted after her, the cold air slicing into his lungs. She was faster than he expected for someone who'd been stiff with fear minutes ago.

She hit the ditch at a reckless angle, sliding down the slope before scrambling back to her feet. Her breath came in sharp, panicked bursts he could hear even over the pounding in his ears.

He pushed harder. She wasn't getting away. Not when she was right here for him to use.

She veered toward the tree line, her small frame swallowed by the dark. He saw the pale flicker of her shirt, then nothing but shadows.

His pulse kicked. If she made it into the woods, she'd be harder to track. Not impossible, but it would take up valuable time. And he wanted to get back to Everstill before the cops found him.

He plunged into the trees after her, branches clawing at his jacket, the smell of pine thick and damp around him.

A twig snapped ahead.

He pivoted toward the sound, muscles coiled. A flash of movement ducked behind a fallen log. He lunged forward.

She shrieked when he grabbed her, a raw, terrified sound that cut straight through him. She twisted hard, nails scraping across his knuckles as she fought.

He hauled her against him, arms locking around her small frame. "Stop," he growled, breath hot against her hair. "You're gonna hurt yourself."

She didn't stop. Her heel slammed into his shin, pain shooting up his leg. He gritted his teeth, tightening his grip. Damn it. She was all instinct and terror. No sense. No plan. Just pure, wild desperation.

She sagged suddenly, breath hitching, her fight burning out as fast as it had flared. Her shoulders trembled under his hands.

"Let me go," she whispered, voice cracking. "Please."

Please. He hadn't heard that word in years.

He swallowed hard, jaw clenching. He couldn't let her go. Not yet.

He shifted his grip, lifting her easily despite her attempts to twist away. She was shaking. Terrified of him.

"Come on," he muttered, turning back toward the house. "We're leaving."

She stiffened in his arms, but she didn't fight again. Not yet. He didn't trust that to last.

He carried her out of the trees, back across the yard, the motorcycle waiting like a dark promise in the driveway. He needed to move. Needed to get back on the road. Needed to find the veil.

Before this world swallowed him whole.

He needed to get back to Everstill. At least there, he could forget what happened on the other side of the veil. He could let the numbness of everyday life make him content again.