Out the window
1198 Words
Chapter Eleven
It was 12:54 a.m. when Gloria’s phone rang, and she shot up from the bed in a panic, her heart pounding as her eyes darted around the dark room before the shrill sound fully registered.
“Oh my God,” she groaned, dragging a hand over her face, because just when she had finally managed to push the image of Viktor out of her mind, something had to drag her right back out of sleep again.
She grabbed the phone and squinted at the bright screen, her eyes still adjusting as she noticed it was an unknown Miami number, which made her hesitate for a brief second before she answered and pressed the phone to her ear.
“Hello?” she muttered, her voice still thick with sleep.
“Gloria, it’s Giselle,” the caller whispered, and Gloria immediately stiffened as the last trace of sleep vanished from her body.
“Oh my God, Giselle? I thought I’d never hear your voice again. How did you get my number? Where are you?” she rushed out, already pushing herself out of bed and moving toward the window as though her sister might somehow be standing outside waiting for her.
“I can’t talk long,” Giselle said quietly. “You need to meet me at The Red Curtain Club on 24th Street in thirty minutes.”
“What? Giselle, wait...” Gloria started, but the call disconnected before she could finish.
She pulled the phone away from her ear and stared at the screen in disbelief, pressing it again as though that might somehow bring the call back.
“Hello? Are you serious right now?” she muttered, but the screen only confirmed that the call had ended.
She had never been out in Miami before and had no idea where 24th Street even was, and it would have been very useful if her sister had stayed on the line long enough for Gloria to explain that she was practically a prisoner who could not just walk out of the house whenever she pleased.
A small, uncomfortable guilt settled in her chest as she realized she had barely thought about Giselle since the night at the party, because she had spent the entire day obsessing over Viktor.
She exhaled sharply and dialed the number back, but it buzzed once and then went dead.
She stared at the phone for a moment before lowering it slowly, her jaw tightening as she came to a decision.
She could not miss this.
Not after eleven years of searching for her sister.
Not after finally hearing her sister’s voice again.
“I’ll figure it out,” she muttered to herself, already moving.
She scrambled out of bed and rushed into her walk-in closet, quickly pulling on a pair of jeans and a simple tank top.
Somewhere at the back of her mind, a voice told her this was a terrible idea, but she ignored it completely.
She moved to her bedroom door, opened it slowly, and stepped out into the quiet hallway, pausing for a second as she listened for any sign that someone might be awake.
The house was silent, almost unnaturally so, and that alone made her more cautious as she began to tiptoe down the long corridor until she reached the winding staircase.
Her foot slipped slightly on one of the edges, and her heart jumped into her throat as she grabbed the railing to steady herself, freezing completely as she waited to see if she had made any noise.
Nothing happened.
She let out a slow breath and continued moving.
She already knew the front door was not an option, because it would trigger the alarm system, something she had learned the hard way on her third night here, so she turned down another hallway instead and made her way toward the library.
She slipped inside quietly and shut the door behind her, her eyes immediately moving to the large window across the room.
That was her way out.
She crossed the room quickly, pushed the window open with a small wince at the faint creak, and climbed through before she could change her mind.
The drop was not as graceful as she had hoped, and she landed straight into the bushes with a muffled yelp as branches scratched against her arms.
“s**t,” she hissed under her breath, crouching low as she stayed still for a moment.
The night remained quiet.
She waited there for a minute, catching her breath before she pushed herself up and peeked out across the open field, her heart still racing as she scanned the area.
There was no guard patrolling.
She had to run for the gate.
And so she did.
She broke into a sprint, her feet pounding against the ground as the sensor lights flickered on one after the other, flooding the path with brightness as she ran straight toward the large gate and the small security booth beside it.
Two guards were already approaching, their attention snapping toward her, and Gloria immediately pointed behind her with frantic urgency.
“There’s a man! There’s a f*****g man in the library with a gun!” she screamed, forcing panic into her voice as she gestured wildly.
They didn’t even question it.
Without sparing her a second glance, they spoke quickly into their walkie-talkies and bolted in the direction she had pointed.
Fools.
Gloria didn’t waste time.
She rushed to the smaller side of the gate, quickly punching in the code she had memorized, her fingers moving fast before she pulled it open and slipped through.
The second she was out, she broke into another run, her breath coming in sharp bursts as she sprinted down the lit street.
By now, Viktor was probably already awake.
But by the time they figured out she had lied, she would be long gone.
She kept running until she spotted a taxi cruising down the road, and she waved it down frantically until it slowed to a stop beside her.
She yanked the door open and climbed in quickly.
“Red Curtain Club. Twenty-fourth Street,” she said, slightly out of breath.
The driver glanced at her through the rearview mirror, his eyes lingering for a second as if he was trying to figure her out, before he shifted the car into drive.
“There’s a leaf in your hair,” he said after a moment, his accent thick and unfamiliar.
Gloria reached up instinctively and brushed at her hair, muttering a quiet, “Thanks,” without meeting his eyes.
“Do you know where you’re going?” he asked.
She frowned slightly, lifting her gaze.
“I’m not stupid,” she replied.
He gave a small shrug and said nothing else.
The drive took longer than she expected, somewhere close to thirty five minutes, and by the time the taxi slowed to a stop, Gloria was already leaning forward, trying to get a better look at where they were.
It was then she understood exactly why he had asked that question.
The Red Curtain Club was not a club.
It was a brothel.
And a very grimy one at that.
- Writer
