The Borrowed Book

“Look, man, it’s none of my business,” a security guard in the lobby said. “I’m staying out of it.”
“But I really could use your help.” I waved my arms to capture his attention. “This book doesn’t belong to me, and I need to return it.”
“Can’t it wait until tomorrow?” He crinkled his eyes. “Well, can’t it?”
I grabbed a fistful of the man’s shirt. “No, it can’t wait.”
“What’s the book about.”
I gave him a deadpanned stare. “Can you call her to the front desk?”
“She isn’t here.”
“I see her car out front.”
“Is there any reason she won’t buzz you in?”
I hung my head. “We had an argument,” I said, almost grinding my teeth, virtually to conceded I was at fault.
“See, she must not want to see you.”
I craned my neck around the corner. “Jenna,” I said, extending both arms with the book. “It’s here. Your favorite book.” I winked.
Jenna opened the book, removed the pistol between the pages, and shot the security guard to death to rob the front lobby. What? I never said we were good people.

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