35
The Jeep windows were cranked down, and fresh air had long since dispersed Angie’s cloying perfume after Cutter dropped her off before heading out to visit Tommy. Mile after mile, he traveled country roads heading toward the mountains lined with impenetrable rows of evergreens. The early morning fog dissipated in the summer heat. Tapping his fingers against the doorframe, a cigarette clung between two blunt digits, the tip long extinguished. On the passenger side laid a carton of donuts, to make up for Greta’s absence. His gaze flicked over to his right, the memory of Greta’s slim ankle propped on the seat, the tiny silver chimes of her ankle bracelet glittering in the sunrays. His c**k hardened at the recollection. Before Greta, dominance was, in and of itself, enough. Since her, he a
