Arsenal's War

She carved a dead man's name into his chest and he didn't flinch. He watched two suits threaten her and didn't blink. Now the only thing more dangerous than the men trying to take her studio is the quiet one who won't leave it.

Cam Doucet built Ink & Iron from nothing — a fishing boat captain's daughter who apprenticed at eighteen, fought her way to ownership by thirty, and earned a four-month waiting list through twelve years of making permanent art on skin. When a developer with city contracts wants her block, she tells his hired muscle to get out of her shop.

Bad move.

When the threats turn to arson and armed men come through her door with zip ties and a van, the man who puts them down isn't a stranger. He's Arsenal, the Memphis Marauders' armorer, and he's been sleeping on her couch for four days. Not because she asked. Because a woman who pulls a loaded .38 without flinching is something his hands weren't built to let go of.

Arsenal doesn't do close. Hasn't let anyone past the armory door since a demolition went wrong and a man died on his watch. But Cam treats the name on his chest like it matters, and that's the one thing his walls weren't built to stop.

In Memphis, the river runs red and the Marauders don't share.

Some men fight for territory. Some fight for the woman who taught their hands what they were made for.