Orphans of the often cruel foster care system of Detroit, Cathy and Trey practically grew up together, until the day Trey turned eighteen and left, taking Cathy's broken trust and heart with him. Years have passed and the former lovers, now known as Diesel and Thorn, are members of rival motorcycle clubs.
Thorn is the closest she's ever been to having her lifelong dream of belonging to a family. Being the old lady of the Gargoyles MC's president isn't perfect, life never is, but it checks off most of her comfort boxes. Love might be one of the unchecked boxes but she's learned the hard way to lower her expectations.
As a product of the streets, Diesel rules the Heathens MC the only way he knows how—ruthlessly. But when a girl turns up dead and an unspeakable line is crossed, Diesel has no choice but to crush the Gargoyles once and for all. He can't back down, even if it means again hurting the only woman he's ever loved.
Caught in the crossfire, Thorn must decide between two men not knowing which, if either, she can trust.
Silence filled the car until she finally shifted forward and ran a hand over the dashboard. "I noticed you got your wish."
"What's that?" he asked.
"This car. You always wanted a vintage Charger."
He rubbed his thumb on the steering wheel. "I wanted a lot of things back then. You did, too. But it looks like you're doing well. You landed the president of the Gargoyles. Life's been good to you."
"If you think being an old lady is everything I want out of life, you don't know me at all."
"We don't know each other, Thorn. We did, but that was a long time ago. People change."
"People don't change. Not really. What changes is what you care to reveal, but inside we're the same."
"I can't believe you remembered I wanted a Charger," Diesel said.
"I remember a lot of things about you," she said softly beneath her hood.
Shit.
"At least more than you remember about me," she added.
"I remember you always had these big thoughts about life. Always wanted to believe the best in people."
"I was naive. You said it yourself. Look how wrong I was."
Her words sliced his gut wide open, but he quickly recovered, knowing she was baiting him. She was a Gargoyle, and Diesel knew how Outlaw clubs worked. Spider trained her to do whatever was necessary to survive. Heathen old ladies were taught similar rules. Diesel knew them well. Shit, he wrote most of them.
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