Hold me closer

A bad feeling

Quinn woke up with a headache. She looked around to see three empty bottles of wine on the living room table. She sat up on the couch and saw Nia curled up next to her, still asleep. She checked her phone for the time, 11:52. Fuck. Quinn had never drank on duty before, let alone gotten black out drunk. There were candles still lit, dishes in the sink and the TV was on, showing a documentary with low volume.

Quinn quickly realized that they defenitely had a good time last night. It was just a shame that she couldn't remember it. She stood up and wobbled her way to a bathroom. Her head was pounding and she felt like shit, so she hopped in the shower to try and wash the hangover away. "Quinn?!" Nia could be heard from the living room. Quinn was just finnished with her shower, so she put on towel and went back there.

"What the hell happened last night?" Nia seemed to also feel like shit, but she still looked incredibly beautiful in the sunlight. "I can't actually remember." Nia pulled her hand through her hair, clearly stressed. "Shit. Me neither. What time is it?" Quinn sat down next to Nia on the couch, still soaking with water. "Around noon." Nia was up within the blink of an eye. "Fuck! We need to get ready!" She started frantically running around the room, blowing out all the candles.

"Get ready for what?" Quinn was missing the point. "The flight is scheduled to leave in an hour." Nia started putting last night's dishes in the dishwasher. Quinn was really confused. "The flight?" Nia turned around and saw the expression on her face. "Dad didn't tell you, did he? We have to be in Paris before this evening." Quinn couldn't process what she was hearing. What Nia had just revealed was the worst nightmare of anyone working in security. "What?! Like hell we are! Nia, you know this isn't going to work, right?"

Quinn stood up and followed Nia who was headed towards her bedroom. "We have no choice. There's this gala for all kinds of billionaires, but it's all political. It's super important in order to gain connections, and everyone brings their families for the image." Quinn was getting increasingly frustrated. "I don't care that it's political. My job is to protect you, and I cant do that if I don't plan ahead! I thought we had this discussion already!"

Nia stopped in her room and slowed down for a second to face Quinn. "Look, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have just assumed he would tell you. But this is important to my family, which means it's important to me." Nia's eyes shined with a hint of desperation, and Quinn had to question everything she had ever known about security. "How... how long is the flight?" Her voice was exhausted, but Nia was being patient. "Probably seven hours."

Quinn's mind was working overtime to try and think of solutions to the thousands of problems that just surfaced. "Can I make calls from the plane?" Nia nodded. "Yes. It's a private plane." Quinn didn't take the desicion she was about to make lightly. But seeing as Nia seemed to always get her way in the end, Quinn decided to speed up the process. "Fine. We'll go." Nia sent her the most beautiful smile.

"Thank you." Quinn sighed. She was so not looking forward to pulling every string she had with every contact she had in Paris, and still being stressed out of her mind for the whole trip. "How long will we stay?" "Just over the weekend. I suggest you pack something gala appropriate." Nia winked at Quinn and then walked away. Fuck my life.

An hour later

Quinn boarded the fanciest private jet she had ever seen. Working with rich people didn't leave you with many surprise elements, but the level of luxury on this plane was just ridiculous. She looked at Nia meaningly. "What? It's a seven hour flight!" Quinn rolled her eyes and sat down in a leather clad seat opposite to Nia. Mr and Mrs Nazari were already in Paris, probably doing some mingling before the gala right then.

Quinn sighed and sneaked a glance at Nia, who was looking out the window. She was always incredibly beautiful, but she must've dressed up today. Her simple, sheer white blouse and dust colored pants went perfectly with the minimalistic golden jewelry she had on. There was not a doubt in the world that Nia had class.
The plane was taking off, and Quinn began her seven hour process of planning with a phonecall to Hal.

"You're not going to like this." Hal sighed through the phone. "Then why are you telling me?" "I'm on my way to Paris." Quinn watched the world outside her window become smaller and smaller. "To go to that gala?" Quinn was confused. "How do you know?" "It's all over the rich people news, Cole. You didn't know?" Quinn rested her head in her hand. Things just got a whole lot more dangerous for both her and Nia. "And that means the whole world is also going to know they're there."

Hal souned worried, talking slowly. "Cole. Do you have everything under control?" Quinn wasn't very confident about that. "I'm just starting to think I didn't bring enough people." "Well how many did you bring?" Quinn looked around the massive but empty plane. "There's the driver... and there's me." Hal's voice was getting annoyed. "You're in over your head, Cole." "Don't you think I know that? I...I just need your help to rationalize this."

Hal could be heard taking a deep breath, and it seemed to make things better. Hal was nutorious for being stressed all the time, and Quinn usually made it worse. "Okay. The gala will have its own security, so does the hotel, so what you have to worry about is the way to and from. Now, have you talked to Mr Nazari and his wife's security team?" Quinn answered hesitantly. "No?" "That's fine, you have like six hours for that. Do you trust the driver?"

Quinn looked around her to see the useless driver sound asleep in his overly comfortabe chair. "I think you already know the answer to that." "Is he already on the plane?" "Unfortuneately, yes." Quinn felt Hal was about as happy with the situation as her. "Then he'll have to do. Also, Cole, there's something you need to know." Hal no longer sounded calm, and Quinn instinctively started to worry. "The guy that was killed at the club... there was a security camera. You couldn't see the face of the guy who shot him, but he was wearing a police uniform."

Quinn went silent. From the moment she knew about this trip, she hadn't felt good about it. And now? Her stomach was turning as she tried to stay focused and optimistic. "Cole?" "I get it. Trust no one." Hal, understandably, sounded stressed again. "We won't be able to get anyone there until after the gala, so for the first two hours or so... you're on your own. You're on your own, Cole."