.

Always trust your gut feelings.

She had lived by that motto her whole life, but this time, it seemed like her guts just might be a tad too late to warn her. It must have been the jetlag,  she thought, though she would have trouble forgiving the late red flag, if she was right.

The taxi driver was trying to make his way through the heavy traffic, with little luck. Each minute that passed by made her heart rush a bit more. She wondered if she would have reached her destination already, if she had opted for a stolen bike instead of this cigarette reeking cab?

Probably, but she only had doubts back then.

That was before she had texted him, just to be ghosted.

Staring at the pigeons pressing their tiny feathery bodies against each other on the buildings’ window sills, to hide from the pouring rain, her anger was rising.

Fucker, you better not…

The cab driver stepped up, and risked a cautious ”Sorry, Miss? ” to which she just appologized, and threw a pile of bills on the front passenger seat, before pulling on the door handle to correct her previous mistake.

Standing on the sideway, she took her stilletos off and started running. She was just a block away from destination, and quite honestly didn’t have anything to lose.

It had been a good plan in the begining. They were both briliant internet hackers, and that bank was easy to scam. And to add pleasure to their business, Adam was quite handsome. They had hit it off right after stealing the few million Euros from their accounts.

She reached into her purse to get her hotel room key, before rushing through the turning doors.

The staff didn’t seem to notice her racing to the elevators.

She pressed the button to the third floor, and when the doors re-opened, ran to room 313. Slipping her card in, the door unlocked. She tiptoed into the room. The bed was still in a mess, and all of her stuff still lay on the table.

But the two art frames were flipped open. Checking on them, all of her fears were confirmed. Both safes were empty of all the money they had worked on stealing.

Sitting on the unmade bed, she regretted the previous night’s good times, and cursed at her partner in crime, who was probably abroad by then.

Let’s meet there – she murmured.

Never again would she get fooled.

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Via Fandango’s Flash Fiction Challenge