Jack sucks at his teeth, spits. Scuffs a derisive toe at the damp spot, like it might be that asshole's face.

"Ain't our concern," he says, brusque, but not unkind. "Your business's your business. Ours is workin for you til we get back."

And past that, sure. He likes the kid, all stubborn, fiery determination.

"Some people just make it a point a shovin their noses where they don't belong."