Goldie

Goldie has three loves: the rumble of his Harley, the burn of good whiskey, and a warm body he doesn’t have to see twice. As Road Captain of the Night Rebels MC, that setup is easy. He’s the blond, inked, broad‑shouldered biker women flock to, and he keeps it simple—no promises, no mornings after, no names that matter.

Then a brunette in tight jeans walks into the club’s tattoo shop and drops her jeans for a piece of art on the curve of her ass. Goldie’s hand is steady on the machine, but something in him slips. The way she flinches at the first sting, the way she laughs it off—he wants more than one night and a goodbye.

He doesn’t recognize her until he hears her name.

Hailey Shilley. The kid sister who used to trail behind his best friend. The girl who left the town of Alina eleven years ago and never looked back.

She’s back now, smelling of roses and green stems from her aunt’s flower shop, and staring at him like he’s a stranger she wants to climb. Her crush has grown teeth. But so have the warnings her brother drilled into her: Goldie is an outlaw, a player, the kind of man who collects hearts like bottle caps.

While Hailey weighs her bruised‑romantic streak against every one of those warnings, and Goldie fights loyalty with every look she sends his way, something uglier than club life is moving through the county. Women are vanishing. Bodies are being found in ditches Goldie rides past every day.

When the violence creeps closer to the women tied to his world, Goldie has to choose what kind of man he really is—just another biker chasing the next warm body, or the one who’ll burn everything down to keep Hailey breathing.