Jack stopped in his tracks. Just stopped. Tilted his head. Looked. Tried to understand.
That was the most unnatural color of hair that Jack had seen in his whole life.
It excited him. He began moving again, only this time he was skipping. And whistling. And heading right toward the bleached blond male. Who seemed to be looking at him, too.
He sidled up, sliding his feet along the sidewalk until his shoulder was near the man's chest. Then he looked up and batted his lashes.
"Tell me, friend." Jack glanced at the hair again, at the cigarette. "By chance, are you a villain?"