It could happen.
Miranda, Jimmy, War Zone, Randy, and Avery were okay, like, more than okay…they were the only family he’d ever had.
But the cold! Even though they all bedded down under coats, newspapers, and old blankets, using these things and each other, it was never warm enough. The biting wind (he’d just heard how Chicagoans called it The Hawk) always managed to get through, pulling at him, awakening him.
Making him have to piss.
And that was a whole different ordeal, since there wasn’t any plumbing in the building either.
The wind picked up, lifting his red curls, making the snot in his nose crackle. Damn, maybe West Palm wasn’t so bad.
It seemed like the life before he came to Chicago on a Greyhound bus six months ago had happened to someone else. He remembered a big cream-col
