Broken Bad Boy
“Are you, Percival? A bad person?”
I sighed in defeat. “Fine. Don’t blame me or put me back in jail if I plan on stealing your collections or your gun, then run away.”
He chuckled. “Yeah, I’m not worried about that. First of all, call me Keith. Second, I don’t have collections, and third, you can steal my gun, but I doubt if you even know how to carry this,” he says, pointing at his pistol still tucked in the holster of his belt.
I shrugged. “I watched Wild Wild West movie.”
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