She had his whole life out of him in four minutes. He put a man through her plate-glass door in three. Neither of them has slowed down since.Hallie Rourke doesn't need a motorcycle club. She needs her pack-and-ship counter to stay open, her three brothers to stop worrying, and the two hundred thousand dollars in unclaimed freight to stop attracting men with box knives. But when a cash-courier kingpin sends collectors to her counter, the youngest patched member of t...

He came for a crate of pecans. He stayed for a war.Abby Lund doesn't need a motorcycle club. She needs her eight hundred pecan trees watered, her grandmother's harvest off the branch, and the storage kingpin trying to buy her forty acres to take no for an answer. But when Emory Ruiz sends three men to her roadside stand, the newest patch of the Tombstone MC breaks a man's wrist on her table — and doesn't leave when the truck does.Trigger hasn't earned anyth...

She sold him lumber at cost for a year. He never once asked why. They both knew.Rita Molloy doesn't need a motorcycle club. She needs her cutting counter to stay standing, her yard crew to keep their hours, and her dead father's name to stop following her through every door in Benson. But when a man with a twenty-seven-year grudge sends collectors to her lumber yard, the patched brother who's been watching her from aisle three steps between her and the violence — a...

She talked to everything. He watched from four hundred yards. Neither of them was prepared for what happened next.Colleen Byrne doesn't need a bodyguard. She needs her ninety hives to survive the summer, her honey on every porch in the valley, and the armed men she accidentally drove past in Barrel Canyon to forget her face. But when a mountain kingpin sends a crew to her roadside at four-thirty in the morning, the Tombstone MC's deadliest marksman drops two of the...

She told three armed men to get off her salvage yard. Then she told the VP of the Gravediggers MC she didn't need his rescue.Nora Petrakis runs Slate Fork Salvage — three acres of dead vehicles in the deep interior, where she knows every row, every part, and every problem that walks through her gate. When a coastal chop crew rolls in looking for a stolen load hidden on her lot, they expect her to step aside. They don't expect her to stand in the doorway and tell th...

She built something worth fighting for. He'll burn the world to make sure she keeps it.Megan Callahan has spent eight years building Iron City Ink into a Carson Street institution—alone, exhausted, and too stubborn to let anyone take what's hers. When a predatory loan shark starts manufacturing violations and sending muscle to drive away her clients, Megan does what South Side women have always done: she stands her ground.Then they threaten to take her buil...

She priced everything she touched. He was the one thing she couldn't put a number on.Sadie Lang doesn't need a motorcycle club. She needs her next storage unit to pay out, her swap meet tables to stay standing, and the bag of dirty cash she found behind a stack of bald tires to stop attracting men with guns. But when the owner of that cash sends a crew to her tailgate, the vice president of the Tombstone MC puts himself between her and the violence — and won't move...

She told him there was no route around her. He said he'd stopped looking for one.June Kessler doesn't need a motorcycle club. She needs her ten acres to stay standing, her boarded horses to stay fed, and the man who keeps parking a truck at the end of her drive to disappear. But when a fight promoter's crew shows up at her gate four deep and puts hands on her, the road captain of the Tombstone MC drops his bike in her gravel and puts all four of them on the ground ...

She laughed a gambling boss out of her own bar. Then the Gravediggers' Road Captain decided her roadhouse was on his road.Winnie Slaughter has run the only roadhouse on the strip for six years — loud, stubborn as a rusted bolt, and answering to nobody. When a gambling outfit decides her back room is the perfect base for their debt operation, they expect her to fold. They don't expect her to throw their card game in the trash. And they sure as hell don't expect the ...

She told him to stay out of her kitchen. He told her she was his. They were both right.Claire Denton doesn't need a motorcycle club. She needs her sourdough to proof on time, her county bread route to stay solvent, and the arsonist she watched walk out of a burning warehouse to forget she exists. But when three men with a chain and a bolt cutter show up at her loading dock at four in the morning, the Tombstone MC's enforcer steps between her and the violence — and ...

She watched him from the stage. He watched her from the rail. Four years of Fridays, and neither of them blinked first.Josie Hartman doesn't need a motorcycle club. She needs her bar to stay open, her bands to show up, and the counterfeit bills moving through her registers to stop. But when a man she's never met starts dismantling her business one delivery at a time, the brother who's been sitting on her rail every Friday for four years comes off it — and doesn't g...

She told him to fix her screen door. He told her she was his.Marlene Foss doesn't need a motorcycle club. She needs her rock shop open, her campsites full, and the man who keeps making offers on her twelve acres to understand that no means no. But when a gold-claim kingpin sends enforcers to her porch, the warlord of the Tombstone MC breaks a man's arm across her railing — and refuses to leave.Wrecker hasn't wanted anything for himself in years. He plans op...