She poured his drinks. He burned down the world to keep her safe.
Jolene Watts has spent four years fighting alone. Running her father's dive bar on the Jersey City waterfront, she's the only thing standing between thirty years of neighborhood history and the gentrification creeping through every block. When a Russian crew moves into her back room and puts a body in her dumpster, Jolene refuses to break. She's handled worse. She's survived worse.
She's never met anyone like Mosh.
He was built for collision. She made him want to be still.
Keith "Mosh" Anderson has never stopped moving—not since his father's fists taught him that stillness meant pain. As Creeping Death MC's most explosive enforcer, he thrives in chaos, lives for the pit, and has never found a reason to slow down. When he walks into a waterfront bar and finds a woman with shaking hands and a spine of steel, something shifts. She's in his territory. That makes her his problem.
But Jolene Watts isn't a problem. She's the first thing that's ever made the noise go quiet.
As Petrov's organization burns under Creeping Death's assault, Mosh discovers that protecting Jolene isn't enough. He wants to claim her—in front of his brothers, in front of the whole damn neighborhood. And Jolene's learning that fighting alone was never strength.
It was just lonely.
In Newark's industrial heart, where refinery flames paint the sky and violence is the only language predators understand, one woman will find her place in a world of leather and chrome—and one dangerous man will finally find his home.
