Joss Hadley planned roads for other men—eleven hours a day, every route in the Southwest laid out on her dispatch board, every driver accounted for. But the one road she couldn't plan was the one Roman Estes took when he rode out of her yard with her name painted on his gas tank and his back to her door. Two years later, he's back. Roman wore a Nomad patch, the road's highest honor, and rode every highway between Cordero and the Pacific carrying Joss's name a hundred thousand miles—without ever coming home. Now his father's had a stroke, Joss has been running the family freight company alone, and Roman has to face the woman he left holding everything. But Joss isn't the woman he left. She's harder now, her hands full with a life she built from the wreckage of his leaving. She doesn't need him. She doesn't trust him. And she's not about to open the door for the man who painted her name on his tank and never once turned the wheel toward her door. Roman will have to prove he's changed—not with grand gestures, not with pretty words, but with the boring, unglamorous work of staying. Day after day. Gate after gate. In the hard rooms he used to ride away from. And Joss will have to decide: Is a man who learned to stay worth the risk of being left again? A gritty, emotionally charged motorcycle club romance about second chances, hard-earned trust, and the difference between carrying someone's name and actually showing up.

Je suis dans un train en Espagne. Je vois monter une dizaine de jeunes Gitans. Ils s'adressent à tout le compartiment. « Vous allez nous donner un peu d'argent. Pour vous aider à mettre la main à la poche on vous propose deux choses : ou on sort les couteaux, ou on sort les guitares. » Tout le monde a crié : « Les guitares ! » Au-delà du folklore des terrains vagues et du pittoresque des bords d'écluses à quoi, dans notre très occidental désir d'appropriation, nos représentations du monde tsigane ont souvent mené, Alexandre Bouglione nous invite à reconnaître ici la part la plus nue et la plus authentique de la vie. (...) Ainsi, s'il nous montre d'emblée l'importance de l'or c'est pour dire celle du sang et poser les termes d'un monde dont l'archaïsme rend seul possible l'épopée. Préface de Dominique Pagnier.