Jack

"Montreal, right? Been there a few times. Had a job once. Middle of a fucking snowstorm."

I smiled. "They get those."

"In October?" He shook his head. "Wasn't prepared. Get right behind the guy. Pull my piece. Fucking gun's frozen."

I choked on a laugh. "A gun can't--"

"You telling the story? It was cold. Fucking cold. Did I mention that?"

"No, just the fucking snowstorm, which I'm sure, combined with the fucking cold, froze your fucking gun."

"Fucking right. Where was I? Right. Gun fails. But the guys hears something. Turns around." He shook his head. "Wasn't pretty."

-Kelley Armstrong, Made to be Broken