Traced
Amelia's POV
“Boss, are we going to let her live? She’s useless now,” the man whispered, and I felt the hairs on the back of my neck prickle in dread.
The leader turned toward me, his cold eyes locking onto mine. I could already feel my body trembling. “Keeping her alive would be one of the biggest mistakes we’ll be making,” he said, and my heart sank.
“Thank you for your help, but we would have to break our promise. Kai might find you and use you against us.” He pulled out a knife, the blade catching the light as he ran his fingers along its edge.
My breath caught in my throat. “Wait! You can’t kill me yet—you haven’t paid me for my service!” I blurted, that was dumb, but i said it anyways.
The man chuckled, a cruel sound that sent shivers down my spine. “You’re about to get killed, and all you care about is money? Dead people don’t spend money, do they?”
I swallowed hard, fighting back the tears threatening to spill. “My mother... she’s about to have surgery. Could you at least send the money to her?” My voice wavered as I begged, knowing it was probably pointless.
“Too bad you’ll be dying before her,” he replied, lifting the knife with intent.
I braced for the inevitable, but then, a sharp voice rang out.
“Drop your weapon!” Tasha’s voice cut through the tension like a knife, and the man froze. She was standing there, holding a gun, her expression hard.
“You’re under arrest for attempted murder,” she added, trying to sound authoritative. One of the men raised his hands in surrender, but the leader just scoffed.
“Seriously? You’re going to surrender to a woman?” He sneered.
Tasha’s gaze didn’t waver. “There are over 20 cops waiting outside. You’d be doing yourself a favor by surrendering and not trying anything stupid.”
The leader hesitated, and I could see him calculating his odds. Slowly, he lowered the knife, but Tasha wasn’t done.
“Or,” she said with a smirk, “you could pay me, and I’ll tell my colleagues you escaped. I’ll let you go.” She waved her gun toward the table. “Each of you, place a $100 bill on the table and escape through that window.”
For a moment, the men just stared at her, confused, unsure if she was serious. But when Tasha’s eyes narrowed, they reluctantly fumbled into their pockets and tossed money onto the table. One by one, they slipped out through the window.
Once they were gone, Tasha grabbed my hand, pulling me out of the building without a word. I was still in shock as we got into her car, my mind racing. She didn’t speak until she parked in front of her apartment, her forehead resting on the steering wheel as she caught her breath.
“Tasha, what the fuck did you do back there?” I asked in disbelief, my voice dropping low
She looked up at me, her face a mix of exhaustion and relief. “Isn’t it obvious? I was saving your ass.”
I stared at her. “What if they found out you weren’t a real cop? That your gun wasn’t even real? You could’ve gotten yourself killed!”
Tasha rolled her eyes. “Well, what did you expect me to do after you suddenly went quiet on the phone? Call an actual cop so they could save you and arrest you for running an illegal business?” she shot back, her gaze hard but tired.
I had no response. She had a point, even if her plan was insane.
“That was a risky move you took back there. You should never do that next time,” I said, my voice softening as i realized i could’ve been dead if she hadn’t pulled that move
She turned to me, her eyes hard yet protective. “Of course, I would never do that again because you’ll be quitting that dirty job today,” she said, getting out of the car before I could even respond.
“Tasha, I would not—”
“Shut up and come have dinner inside,” she cut me off, her tone sharp as she walked toward her apartment, leaving me sitting alone in the car.
I sighed, watching her storm away. I knew she meant well, but quitting wasn’t as simple as she made it sound. Still, I couldn't ignore the fact that tonight could have ended in disaster. Maybe she was right. Maybe it was time to leave this life behind—but how?
“Why the fuck did you let her go?” the man yelled, his hoarse voice echoing around the room. Three men knelt before him, their heads bowed in fear.
“We got caught by the police, but we were able to bribe our way out,” one of the men answered, his head still bowed.
“How are you sure it was the cops?” the man asked, his eyebrows furrowing.
“I’m sure. She was holding a gun, and there were cops outside,” the man replied.
“Do you think she would call the cops? That was a fucking hacker’s hideout! If she calls them, she’ll be screwed too!” the man shouted. The men went quiet for a while as they stared at each other, realization dawning on them.
“We never thought of that,” the man mumbled.
“Of course, you didn’t, because you’re all fools!” the man scolded, pointing a finger at each of them.
“If you had entrusted us with guns, we probably wouldn’t have screwed up. These knives were useless,” one of the men said, his head still bowed.
“Yes, we know we’re newbies, but we would’ve done better with firearms,” another man agreed.
“How dare you talk back at me?” the man shouted, storming toward the first speaker and grabbing him by the collar. “Are you blaming this on—"
“Rocco, that’s enough,” a harsh voice, laced with a thick Italian accent, came from the back of the room.
“Mariano, they were able to get the money, but they failed to kill the hacker,” Rocco responded, his head lowered in respect as Mariano entered the room.
“They didn’t fail, but you did. I gave you a simple task, and you sent trainees to handle it. Once again, you took my orders for granted,” Mariano said as he took his seat.
“perdonaml, After I found out the hacker was just a girl, I thought the trainees could handle it so I could focus on bigger tasks,” Rocco explained, but Mariano’s temper flared. He lunged at Rocco, grabbing him by the throat.
“Listen to me. Find that girl and kill her! If Kai finds her before you do, you’re screwed,” Mariano snarled through gritted teeth.
“Yes, boss!” Rocco gasped, struggling for air.
“For now, kill the useless trainees. They’ll never be part of us if they can’t complete simple tasks,” Mariano ordered.
Amelia’s POV:
“So, what’s the correct answer to this question?” I asked with a warm smile, watching the little girl in front of me as she contemplated her response. It was a Monday morning, and here I was, in my classroom. Besides being a stripper, hacker, and private investigator, I was also a fifth-grade math teacher. I took this job not for the money but because it felt like a step in the right direction. I didn’t want to spend my life just spying on people, hacking into accounts, or taking money from older men at the strip club. Teaching kids gave me a sense of purpose, something positive to balance out my life of guilt.
“I think it should be this,” Clara answered, pointing at an option in her textbook.
“Nice try, Clara. That was pretty close, but I think you should try again,” I replied, smiling as I pushed a loose strand of my hair behind my ear. Just then, my phone began ringing loudly, cutting into the classroom atmosphere. I excused myself and stepped outside to take the call.
“Amy, where the fuck are you?” Tasha’s voice blared through the phone.
“Where else could I be on a Monday morning? I’m in school,” I replied, rolling my eyes.
“So you’re telling me you’re busy teaching fifth graders while your own education is literally falling apart? Girl, what the fuck! You haven’t even graduated college yet!” Tasha shouted into the phone.
“I’ll be skipping class today. I just want a break from everyone, including you,” I answered, trying to keep my voice steady.
“Since the beginning of the semester, have you even stepped foot in psychology class? You’ll be failing this course if you miss more than 50% of your classes. I hope you know that!” Tasha’s voice was sharp.
“That’s why I’ve got you! You could probably help me sign my attendance if I don’t show up before the end of class,” I replied, but I could hear Tasha scoff on the other end.
“You’ll probably have to miss class again because there’s no way I’m covering for your absence,” she said, sounding truly disappointed.
“Chill out, girl! Why do you sound like my mom right now? Jeez, do whatever you like,” I said, hanging up the phone. As I turned to head back inside, I noticed a group of men in black clothing and sunglasses walking into the school. They looked just like the men who had attacked me a few days ago. It was easy to tell they weren’t there as parents; this was a small school, and I knew all the familiar faces.
“Do you know those men? They look suspicious,” I asked one of the homeroom teachers, who had been sitting quietly in the corner.
“I think I’ve seen them before. I’ll go speak to them,” he said, standing up with a smile as he walked toward the exit.
“Or you can just ask the security to talk to them instead,” I suggested, shrugging.
“Don’t worry; I can handle it,” he replied with a wink, making me cringe.
I stood by the window, watching as he approached the men. One of them pulled out a portrait, and I squinted to see what was happening. My heart stopped for a moment when I saw my own face on that picture. They were holding out a photo of me, which meant only one thing: they weren’t there to pick up any kid; they were there for me.
As I peered at the intimidating men through the window, panic raced through my mind. Why did they have a picture of me? What did they want? Was I risking my life by stepping outside to confront them? Were they really as bad as they looked?
My questions were abruptly answered when one of the men pulled out a gun and shot the homeroom teacher. I stared in shock at his lifeless body crumpling to the floor, my eyes darting back to the men, finally locking onto the leader, who made direct eye contact with me.
There’s only one right thing to do now; run.