Paragon - Chapter 22: Chapter 22

I was miles from the scene when the sirens started flying past my car. When my dashboard lit up with incoming requests to units in the area. I drove quickly. Avoiding the light traffic in the middle of the night.
I palmed my phone and called Pearson.
"Ms Fletcher, good evening."
"I need movers in my flat as soon as possible, please. Inform them that everything goes into secure storage until further instructions."
"Yes ma'am, is this a permanent leave?" He asked slightly shocked.
"It is." I said flatly. "Your services will no longer be required." I added, calmly overtaking another car.
"Then it has been a pleasure and I wish you luck with your endeavours."
I nodded, pushing away sentiment. "Likewise, you have gone above and beyond in your work for me. As has Jamerson. You can expect bonuses in your accounts tomorrow morn–"
"That's not necessary–" He got in quickly but I already ended the call.
The drive took another twenty minutes to cross the city to the west. When I neared the area I left the car a few streets away from my home and pulled my collar up as I quickly closed the distance to my building. The dreaded personal phone buzzed in my pocket again and I ignored it. I passed the glass doors and paced the stone lobby. My deskman nodded at me formally with kind regard.
I hit the elevator up.
The doors opened. I deactivated the security system and strode in going straight for my desk. I pushed the discreet button on the underside and two bookshelves parted–some of the wood was still broken from a certain incident with a certain lawyer...
I was greeted by a lit wall of necessities. I pulled a wad of freshly printed euros and dollar bills out and stuffed it into a duffel bag within. Then I pulled out three passports. The rest the movers would handle. I glanced up at the weapons that glinted back in a dark matte and chrome finish. I took two 9mm suppressed pistols from the wall and threw them into the bag with a few magazines.
My flat phone rang. I glared at it. The reason for it all. For my existence to end in London as it had begun ten years ago. I picked it up slowly.
"Sorry to disturb you Ms Fletcher, I have a–"
"Quinn Adams. Send her up." I finished for the deskman and set down the phone. It broke under my hand when I didn't realise I held it so tightly.
Not many seconds later I heard the lift ping at the end of the hall. I hadn't even bothered to shut the front door when I stormed in and it revealed a very angry mortal on the other side. I stared at her suddenly at a loss for words.
She paced quickly to me like a storm of dark brown hair and burning green eyes. Her eyes didn't fail to catch the bag at my feet and she frowned hard at me.
"Care to explain?" She stated curtly.
It was my turn to frown. "You shouldn't have come."
"What?" Quinn said, breathlessly. I took a measured breath and stared at the guns and cash in the bag.
"I said you shouldn't have contacted me." I repeated calmly.
"So you disappear on me for police business and suddenly I'm a stranger?" She said in a disbelieving voice. Her eyes cut down to where mine had been and they widened at the sight.
The fact that those glinting weapons were less dangerous than me only made me want to laugh. They just happened to be silent and efficient. The only reason for them at all.
"I'm leaving, Quinn."
Her heartbeat spiked. I tasted the shock in the air... for once her blood wasn't the only thing I focused on. She took a sharp breath. I took my own measured sip of air and pulled myself as far away from the growing tear in my chest as possible. It would mean nothing to me in a few years.
"When?" She finally murmured.
"My flat will be cleared in the next hour. I have a jet chartered tonight." I told her slowly.
"Going where?" She pressed, with an increasing pulse in her chest.
I merely stared at her silently.
"Fletcher... what happened?" She asked, in a lower voice. One that was much more saddened than I was prepared for.
I didn't meet her eyes. I stared off past her to the fine leaves of a tropical plant behind her. Its waxen leaves were the same shade of bright and perfect green. The kind that made you feel free in a strange sense.
"Is it–is it my fault?" She murmured.
Yes.
"No."
She laughed without humour. "I really did screw this up for you."
I met her eyes and held them. Her heart rate skipped again and I took a few daring steps closer until I could feel the heat of her breath. The warmth of her skin and the fire raging through me. I moved my hand slowly and traced her jaw with the lightest touch. Like she was made from paper. Her eyes closed.
I couldn't help myself. If this was to be the last chance I had to touch her I needed to savour the smooth lines of her face one more time.
"I didn't expect to feel the way I do when I'm near you." I told her honestly. It made her eyes open and watch me intently. "But that does not change what I am and what my life is. Look behind me." I stated with resolve–already knowing that she had seen the opened bookshelf and the many objects of lethality mounted on the illuminated wall.
She complied and eyed the weapons and cash more closely. Then her eyes returned to my own.
"This is not what your life is. This is not a secure life. It's a life of constant change and compromise. It's not something I would ever wish on you." I told her pressing my cool palm to the side of her face. "And it was inevitable whether you crossed my path or not."
Her eyes flickered between my own in some sort of inner conflict. So I sighed and stepped back. But she moved suddenly and pulled her hand behind my neck making me meet her eyes in surprise again.
"I remember telling you something before. That details were something of a speciality to me. I didn't fail to notice the things that didn't add up about you in the first place. I also didn't fail to notice the hunger in your eyes the moment we met. That you made up some bullshit excuse to stop Karl Epsom from ever touching me again. That you revealed yourself to me in broad daylight to stop any harm coming to me–despite your laws." She drawled the last bit. "And now you're going to stand here and tell me it meant nothing at all."
I tried to ignore the feel of her hand on my skin and grit my teeth.
"Of course it meant something to me. You have no idea what I risked being anywhere near you like this." I growled back darkly.
She didn't shrink away but seemed more emboldened.
"Then why the hell aren't you asking me the right question?" She growled right back with fire in her eyes.
I stared at her blankly at a total loss.
"Quinn, you cannot be serious."
"You take a while to catch on, detective. Because I am." She retorted, dropping her hand and stepping back. It was only now that I noticed she wore nothing but a dark hoodie and a pair of jeans like she had slipped them on in a hurry.
"You don't even know where in the world I'm going–"
"It's funny... because I still don't seem to care." She shrugged, sinking her hands into the front of her hoodie. "So maybe you can lend me one of those fake passports and I can find out."
My jaw fell loose. She moved past me to assess the new items in the hidden shelf space.
"You–you have a house–a life here–a damn career–" I stammered.
"Just things detective... just things..." She sighed, picking up a green leather backed passport and turning it.
"Quinn, I need you to understand what this means–"
She whirled on me, without giving me the chance to begin to explain what disappearing truly meant. What it cost.
"It means no more London. It means my structured and regimented days disappear. My emails, my texts, my late client calls and my loose choice of friendships vanish in one. Single. Night." She stated each word significantly, as if loving the taste. "And you know what? I can't seem to think of a damn thing wrong with it, Fletcher. Because you're the most interesting thing that's happened in my life since I bothered to remember. Not a job or a house." She said striding back towards me.
"You've never belonged in this city or around these people. And you made me realise just how much I didn't either." She murmured, watching my eyes closely a foot away. "So yes. Tara Fletcher. I understand what it means."
She never stopped leaving me speechless. What could I possibly say to that? She spoke like someone who had lived three lifetimes not a mere twenty something years. She spoke with power and resolve. Like the decision cost absolutely nothing and it was a damn opportunity.
I dragged a hand through my hair as I considered it all.
"You have just made things very... complicated." I finally got out.
She smirked a trademark look. It told me she knew as much.
"I'm getting in whatever car you are–I still don't trust that you won't vanish before my eyes."
"I think the better question is why you're so willing to let your life vanish before your eyes." I said in a low voice.
This time she broke my stare and gazed towards the windows behind me.
"You understand the feeling of difference more than anyone. But it's more than that. I feel indifferent to practically everything around me. I make a good show of appearing engaged and in the room but I'm never really present like everyone else seems to be." She frowned and met my eyes again. "Not until I met a very strange woman that spoke 19th century English and addressed me by full name."
I couldn't stop the smirk that drew up my lips.
"It's a very nice name." I agreed.
She chuckled and shook her head. "My only question for you, Tara. Is do you want me to come with you?" She finished in a quiet voice. In a voice that was holding its breath and so much more unsure than the woman that had walked into my home.
"Since we're confessing things this evening, it's time I gave you my speech." I drawled, and she glared briefly. "In all seriousness, Quinn. I was drawn to you from further away than I should ever been able to notice you that night." Her eyes widened slightly. "You overwhelmed me in every sense. I tried my best to make sure you would be a distant memory but there you were appearing in my path again and again... until I started putting myself in your path too." I sighed and held her gaze. "I didn't want to stop myself from getting closer to you–I should have–but I didn't and now you're here ready to throw everything you've worked for away. For something completely uncertain. The one thing that is running in my mind is whether or not I will be worth it." I finished, breaking her eye contact and finding the sofa behind her. "Not whether I want you with me–because the answer is–"
She broke away from her frozen spot and drew her hands up to my neck the same moment she pressed her lips softly against my own. The change made desire flood me again but I had my hold on it this time. This time it was not tearing everything down. I grit my teeth and returned it briefly before pulling back a few inches.
I kept my eyes closed and felt her breathe lightly. I bent my head and pressed my forehead to hers keeping control of the fire raging through me wanting to taste her sweet lifeblood.
"You didn't even hear the answer." I whispered.
"I didn't need to." She breathed. "You're an easy read."
I chuckled lightly and drew my hand up to cup her face.
"The movers will be here soon."
She opened her eyes. "So we need to leave?"
I glanced down at my watch before meeting her stunning eyes.
"Since I own the plane, I think it can wait." I said dryly.
Quinn shook her head in exasperation. "I'm ready. I honestly don't care about what I leave behind."
"You're really serious about this?" I demanded, watching her face for any inch of doubt.
She only held the resolve and something more on her face. She moved both her hands to hold the side of my face before speaking.
"I wouldn't be here if I wasn't."
I nodded slowly. There was nothing in her eyes that told me she wasn't completely ready to leave all of it behind. The true battle would be keeping my restraint in place around her. Because she still never realised just how close I was to giving in–
"You're not afraid of heights are you?" I asked suddenly.
She frowned. "No, why?"
"Because we're not travelling by car to get to the jet."