Jake Stevens was a two bit hood outta Kansas city. He never knew his father.
Jake’s mother, Darla, was a truck stop whore who gave it up for loose change, long rides, and mentholated cigarettes.
Jake was a bonus from one of Darla’s rig-hauling tricks. She’d mentioned that Jake’s likely father was a pleasant enough fellow who’d treated her as good as a whore deserved.
Daddy drove off in his big rig with a smile on his face and ass on his breath.
Jake was surly as they come.