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Trucker had somehow hustled a couple of bikers from their table and was holding down the fort as Cutter and Greta entered the bar. Standing on a chair, he waved them over. With an arm around her waist, Cutter plunged forward and carved a wide swath of space for them. Dread curdled in her belly because her mother’s eyes sparked like a boxer sparring before his opponent entered the ring. As usual, it made her want to take a swing at Cutter. Eye twitching, she threw another death glare at him. She was close to spitting with fury, but he didn’t so much as flinch when he caught her expression. Although, he got his point across when he gripped her shoulder and pressed her firmly into a chair.
Cutter got her mom’s and Trucker’s drink orders but left without asking her what she preferred to d
