Cutter's P.O.V.
**********************************
"You're doing this to me on purpose," I grumbled to War.
"I told you that you had a choice," he replied flatly. "Don't blame me because you chose your bike."
"I thought Sorsha could drive. I'd just follow behind her. You didn't tell me that she didn't have a driver's license!" I hissed as we watched Sorsha look at my Harley Fat Boy that I restored with Dad's help last year.
"That's what you get for not getting to know the person you're shadowing," War said. "All I did was ask if she could drive or preferred you to drive."
"And then you set me up to get her on the back of my bike," I accused him.
"You can still take the SUV," he replied, smirking at me.
"I'd hate the cage," I grumbled. "I'd rather take my bike. Even if it means she
