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The Soho backstreet is dark and quiet as usual. Nothing feels off, and honestly, if any fucker decides to jump at me right now…the joke will be on them.
Taking the stairs up two at a time, I race up all six flights to my apartment. The loft is still dimly lit by the streetlights as I hurry through it, up the stairs to the bedroom area.
I don’t waste time getting inside my closet and throwing shit in a duffle. Emptying out the safe, I make sure I have everything I set aside, should the need to disappear arise.
It doesn’t take me long to change clothes and get in the car. The traffic, however…fucking diabolical. It’s almost Christmas; everyone is running around last-minute shopping which means driving across London is a mission of its own.
The Winterbourne house is lit up like Blackpool Tower. Fleur has a thing about the dark when she’s alone. Normally I’d call her to let me in, but I knock instead. The bell is a no-no since it’s one of those new fancy ones that send the notification to your phone. Last thing I want is to alert Charles of any movement.
“What’re you doing here?” Fleur asks as she opens the door. She always makes a massive fuss when she opens the door, pretending she’s being massively inconvenienced, when really she likes the company.
“Listen to me carefully,” I tell her as I guide her inside and close the door, making sure there’s nothing suspicious out there. “Something’s happened. I need you to get a bag together. We need to get the fuck out of here. You understand?”
“Okay.” She nods vehemently.
For once she doesn’t argue. She does as she’s told and starts up the stairs as quickly as she can. The vertigo gets her once in a while as she gets a few things together on her bed. Instinct has me following her around in case she falls or something.
As I follow her into the bathroom, she stops dead in her tracks, turning with a glare. “Do you mind? I’d like to pee alone.”
“Oh…” is all I manage before she’s closed the door in my face.
“So, what happened?” she shouts from the other side of the door as I sit on the edge of her bed. “Why are you going all GI Joe?”
I ignore her question. She doesn’t need to worry about anything other than getting her shit together. Turning to her pile of clothes and other things on the bed, I sort through it. Folding the leggings and jumpers she’s picked out, I put them in her large weekend bag.
I do the same to the underwear she’s left out and all the other bits and bobs. She’s coming out of the bathroom by the time I’ve finished packing her things.
“You didn’t answer my question?” She’s standing in the middle of the room, hands on her waist, her growing belly rounding at the top of her pyjama pants. “What happened?”
“You don’t need to worry about it, okay?”
“If you want me to go anywhere with you, you’ll tell me.”
Her compliance was obviously too good to be true.
“I don’t remember giving you a choice.”
“You know, I liked you a lot better before this happened.” She looks down at her belly with a pout. “He was a lot more fun; now he’s all grump and no play.”
Although her sass is normally entertaining, right now, it’s pissing me the fuck off. I need her to get her arse into gear so we can get the fuck away.
“Do you want to die?”
“Oh, for God’s sake, big maaa—” She shuts up the minute her gaze meets my glower. Taking a deep breath, she comes to stand right in front of me, close enough that I have to look down to see her face.
Fleur’s so small for someone with so much character and fire. Looking up at me with her face all scrunched up, she chews on her thumb, like when she’s trying to figure out a problem or dilemma or something.
All the air leaves my lungs. She’s so fucking soft. And so fucking pretty.
“Trouble…” I sigh. “I need you to trust me, okay?”
She’s not big on trust.
“Fine. Where’re you taking me, then?”
“Away.”
“Where, Casper?” I know she means business by her use of my name.
