Tempted Trapped and Too Late to Run

She floored the gas pedal, driving faster than she ever had before. As soon as

she screeched to a halt outside Z's cozy little house, she leaped out of the car and rushed inside.

The guys in the cars trailing her hadn't expected her to stop there. They pulled over too, excitement clear on their faces. Clara had walked right into their trap, and tonight, they planned to finish her off to complete their employer's task.

Clara reached the door and quickly punched in the code to get inside. The moment she stepped in, someone wrapped her in a hug.

"Z?"

"Yeah, it's me."

She patted his back gently. "Do you have any weapons here?"

"I do. I got a couple of guns from the Black Market, but they're too dangerous, so I've never used them."

The Black Market was a no-man's land, so picking up guns there wasn't unusual. Right now, that's exactly what Clara needed.

"Great, hand them over."

He opened a nearby drawer and handed her the guns, then sheepishly ducked behind her.

Clara caught on. "Are you scared?"

"Yeah, is that a problem? You can protect me."

Her mind raced as she cracked open the door. "No problem at all. Kind of refreshing, actually. You stay put while I go scare them off. I'll be right back."

With that, she opened the door.

About eight men stood outside, each holding a metal pipe, shouting obscenities.

"Clara, hiding here won't save you. We've got orders tonight. Come out now, and maybe we'll leave your body intact."

His words made the others laugh, sure that Clara was already trapped. Clara smoothly loaded a bullet into the chamber and fired a warning shot. The bullet grazed the cheek of the loudmouth, leaving a trail of blood.

The others froze, shocked that she had a gun and wasn't afraid to use it. Someone hesitated, rethinking. They'd been paid well, but nobody wanted to die here.

But just as they stepped back, the man with the grazed cheek wiped his wound with a sneer.

"She's bluffing. That gun can't have many bullets, and she clearly doesn't know how to use it. If she did, that bullet would've been in my forehead."

The others nodded, buying his bravado, and lunged at Clara. "Bang! Bang! Bang!"

A few gunshots later, the attackers were down, wounded in the legs, dropping to their knees.

They were terrified. This woman wasn't a novice. She was a sharpshooter and had deliberately aimed for their legs.

Clara stepped out from the shadows, puzzled by her own skill with guns. Had she used one before?

She approached the kneeling men, the car's headlights casting just enough light to see their faces.

She didn't recognize any of them.

Squatting beside the one who seemed in the most pain, she asked, "Who sent you?"

The man's face went ghostly pale, but he turned his head, refusing to speak. Clara pointed her gun at his forehead, her eyes cold. "Who sent you?" He trembled, terrified of death.

Just as he was about to spill, the man with the cheek wound threw a knife, hitting his comrade in the throat.

Clara watched the man die in front of her, raising an eyebrow. The attacker wasn't just any thug.

She jumped back, but the knife was already coming at her, lightning fast.

She dodged quickly, the blade grazing her arm. Instantly, she fired a bullet into the man's chest.

He collapsed without a word.

With two dead, the scene erupted into chaos with screams.noveldrama

Clara stood, clutching her arm, her expression grim. "Shut up."

The remaining men, some kneeling, others fleeing, were in complete disarray. Their leader was down.

Feeling frustrated, Clara took a deep breath. "Who sent you?"

The four kneeling men shook their heads frantically. "We don't know, we really don't! We were just following Leo. He paid each of us three hundred grand to take care of a woman."

So the only one who knew the employer was the one now dead?

The kneeling men, fearing for their lives, pleaded, "Don't kill us, don't kill us! We really don't know anything. Maybe you can find something at Leo's place. Check his phone too."

Clara searched the dead man but found no phone.

"Where did he live?"

Someone quickly gave her an address, a notorious slum known for its chaos.

But she had to check it out.

She nudged the body at her feet, uttering a single word, "Scram."

The others scrambled away, terrified.

Clara looked at the corpse, a sudden realization dawning on her. Her heart skipped a beat—had Z been frightened by all this?