Write a short story in which you are the villain.

I hear their boots shuffling on the thin carpet. I inhale through my nose and out my mouth trying to settle my heart rate. It’s dark in here except for the thin strip of light streaming in through the bottom of the door. The boots are louder now. Inhale. Exhale. It’s now or never. I need to get out of here.

I army crawl out from under the desk and feel my way to the window. The handle of my knife presses against my waist. I hear voices; I need to move faster. I stand up against the window and look out. Although there’s nothing but a green lawn, I hear the screeching sirens from what must be at least ten police cars on the other side of the building.

The doorknob jiggles. They’re here. My heart races as I unlock the window. It opens with ease. I break the screen and climb out. Inching along the side of the building, I make my way to the water poll. Using the poll as a guide, I practically jump all ten stories. When I land, my ankle snaps and twists. I fall to the ground and cover my mouth with my hand to mask the scream begging to get out. A light beams on the ground a few feet away from me. I look up and see the police standing in the window. I hobble over to the side of the building and stand perfectly still for the next two hours watching my ankle swell and thinking of nothing else but how bad I need a cigarette and a good lay.

I make it to my girl’s loft before sunrise. I bang on the door, eager to be safe inside. She opens it, eyes barely open, wearing nothing but a floral silk robe, her right breast perfectly exposed. Without saying anything, she steps aside and allows me to enter. We walk over to her bed. She says to me, “We’ll talk in the morning. For now, just hold me.”

I wake up before she does. The sun is high and streaming through the large windows but it’s not quite noon. Her skinny body is curled into mine. My ankle pulses with pain. As quietly as I can, I ease of out her bed and hop over to the kitchenette and pull some ice from the freezer. I stick it in a dishtowel. I sit on the couch, pile up some pillows and ease my ankle up. I let out a loud sigh from the relief that the elevation and ice gives me. Kara turns over and opens her eyes. She sits up and covers herself with the robe. “It’s been three weeks.”

I’m instantly reminded of Kara’s chilling indifference. “I’ve been running.”

“You’re hurt.”

“It could be worse.”

“Are you hiding?”

“For now.”

“What is it this time?”

“Just helping out a friend. I actually need to call him. Can I borrow your phone?”

“Broken.” Kara walks over to the kitchenette and starts making coffee. I watch her mindless motions and can’t help but wonder at what point we both became slaves to the caffeine. “You’re welcome to stay here but I have to go to work in a few hours and I don’t have much food.”

“Cigarettes?”

“In my bag.” She looks at my ankle. “Oh, sorry…you know, you should get that checked out.”

“I’m on the run, baby. Plus, who’s going to pay for all those bills? You?”

“How is it that you’re always poor if you’re always robbing banks?”

“Who said anything about robbing banks?” Kara walks over to her bag without answering my question and pulls out her pack of cigarettes. “Has anyone said anything about me robbing banks?”

“No.”

“Well, it’s not banks I’m robbing.”

“Oh.” She hands me a cup of black coffee, a cigarette, and a lighter and walks over to her closet. She picks out her clothes for work: a simple tight black dress, a black blazer, and black heels. She goes over to the bathroom and closes the door. As soon as I hear the shower go on, I immediately think of an escape plan. I need to leave. But my ankle. I’m screwed. I must tell Kevin that last night’s plan failed. I need to get over to his place. But how?

The shower turns off and Kara steps out a few minutes later, fully exposed. I can see her ribs. I must say though, she looks incredibly sexy with her blond hair cascading down her back and something about a protruding collarbone has always been a turn on of mine. “Come here,” I say, no longer using my head to think.

She looks over at me and cocks her head to the side. “You come here,” she fires back at me. I let her win. I take off the wet dishtowel, swing my ankle around, and make my way to her.

I grab her lower back and pull her into me. I try not to look into those dead eyes of indifference but rather pretend as if she’s feeling something too. I bring my lips to hers and before I know it, she’s undoing my pants.

I lie there breathless, as Kara gets dressed. It all happens so quickly with her. I can just barely wrap my head around the act before it’s over. Once dressed, she walks over to her bathroom and grabs tissues and a first aid kit. She tells me to clean myself off and wrap my ankle. What I’d really like is a long hot bath.

Kara walks out the door shortly after, leaving me naked, injured and without any form of communication. I go back to sleep. Kevin can wait.

I wake up later to the sound of a key unlocking the front door. Kara should still be at work. Should I hide? What if she has another man? I roll over off the bed and hide on the side hidden from the door. I peak under the bed. Boots. They found me.

“Kyle, this is the police. Come out of hiding.” I hesitate. Maybe if I stay quiet, they’ll think I left.

“Kyle, I know you’re here.” I lift my head at the sound of her voice.

“Kara?”

“Kyle, you are under arrest for breaking and entering nineteen different jewelry stores and stealing over forty karats worth of diamonds.” The police walk over to me. I stand up and attempt to make a break through the window but with an injured ankle, I am helpless.  Three of them hold me down and handcuff me while reading off the Miranda rights. Kara’s eyes for once are readable. They stare me down with both anger and satisfaction. “Why did you turn me in?” I ask Kara.

“This is what I do.”

“Huh?”

“She’s a smart girl, this one.” One of the cop points at Kara. “You fugitives all seem to flock to the skinny blond ones. Kara here has been helping us capture you villains for years now. And thanks to your slip up this morning, we’re on our way to your buddy Kevin’s. Hope you boys get along because you two will be spending plenty of time together in the next twenty five or so years, if you’re lucky.” The cop chuckles to himself.

“But you don’t understand! What we are doing is for the greater good! Those are conflict diamonds! Nobody should be selling them! Nobody! We we’re going to take them back to Africa! I swear! Please don’t do this! I’m not a villain! I’m a good guy!” I deaden my weight in their arms making it extremely difficult for them to carry me.

“Yeah, yeah. Tell that to the jury.”

“Kara! Why would you do this? I’m a good guy! I always loved you!” The police manage to carry me out of the loft. The last thing I see before I leave is Kara slipping off her blazer, revealing those sexy little arms. I shake my head in defeat. A cigarette and a good lay. She’s a smart girl.