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Chapter Seventeen
"Do you know how to use a gun?" Jackson asked me as he pushed the curtains away to look outside the window.
"No."
"Obviously you can use a knife to save your life, right?"
What the hell was with his rhymes?
"Yeah. I guess."
He opened the kitchen cabinets, the ones that were stocked with too many jars. He reached out for one and pulled out a gun from it. A gun out of a large empty cookie jar.
I stared at him appalled.
"What? I keep my guns where no one can find them."
He handed me a butcher knife. "Take this, and go to my room. Stay hidden until I tell you otherwise."
"But..."
"If I don't come for you within ten minutes, stay hidden." He instructed. His expressions told me this was a serious matter.
Whoever was outside the door could be dangerous.
On second thought, Jackson had always been the king of threatening, killing and harassing people. How bad could be the person standing
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