Jett had found him chewing when he finally caught up to him in the woods…chewing on a woman. A woman none of us recognized, which meant he’d brought her from someplace else. Some other town. Some other life he’d ruined before wandering into ours.
The drifter mumbled again, his lips twitching, a thin smile ghosting across his face as if he’d just remembered a joke from whatever broken little world he lived in.
I stared at him, disgust curling in my gut.
“I hope I don’t get a disease,” Jett muttered beside me, his arms crossed as he leaned his shoulder against the concrete pillar like he was posing for a cowboy magazine spread. “That hair of his got whipped into my mouth.”
I grimaced but didn’t respond. I just watched the man, taking in the twitch of his fingers, the erratic rise and fal
