“That it?”
“Yeah, I think so.” Mia said as she stuffed the last suitcase into the backseat of the baby blue Integra. Slamming the passenger door closed she looked back at the house longingly.
It was late Friday morning and Dom had left early, never saying a word. In fact, he hadn’t said a word to her since Tuesday when he’d handed down her eviction.
She hung her head, wishing again that he would just let her explain.
It was a viscous irony that what she had desperately wanted two months before she would have gladly given up for something as simple as a smile from her brother. She felt like crying…she’d been crying for days.
“You ready then?”
“I guess.” Mia hated the triumphant look on Letti’s face. Her best friend, the person she shared everything with, was now the last person she could pour her soul out to. Everything felt so awkward now.
“So get in the car then.” Letti admonished, her hands on her hips and a self-righteous sneer on her face.
“I just wanted to wait for a minute. He might come back and I gotta tell hi…”
“Tell him what? The asshole kicked you out. What the hell do you wanna say to him?” Letti’s expressive face contorted into mock innocence and her hands flailed limply in the air and she spoke in a breathless singsong falsetto, “Oh Dom, I’m sooo sorry you hit me. Please forgive me for angering you. It was all my fault.”
Mia fought back the tears finding herself saddened rather than angered by the parody. “But he didn’t hit me, Letti. I told you. He would never hit me.”
Letti cocked her head to the side, “Ya think?”
“I know.” Mia replied firmly.
“Whatever.” Letti shrugged and strode to her car. “Let’s go.”
~~~~~
Claudia pulled up to DT Automotive wondering what the in the world she was doing. She kept telling herself it was just to check on the car, to make sure he was doing what he promised. It had to be done on time. That was it, the sole reason for visiting the garage.
That and the fact that she wanted to check on Dom.
It had been a struggle for four days to keep herself focused on her exam and not worry about why he’d been parked outside her house. The struggle was over, the exam behind her. Not a disaster but also far from a shining achievement.
No, no, no this is only about the car. Can’t get mixed up with Dominic Toretto. School, car and nothing else, remember?
The garage door was open and the four boys were working on her father’s Jag.
As she parked Dom turned to look at her, shielding his eyes from the sun. “ Hey Claudia, whatcha doin’ here? Figured you wouldn’t be back ‘til next week.”
“I wanted to see how things are going,” she replied, the words tumbling out of her mouth in a nervous rush. He cocked his head to the side, brows arched in question. She blushed. This is going well, don’t you think? Jeeze, pull yourself together. She shifted her gaze to the hollow mess that had once been a Jaguar, well sort of. Unnerved and unable shake the feeling that he was staring right through her she babbled, “So, how are they going?”
“Right on schedule. Should finish a day or two early at this rate.”
“Very good.” Mission accomplished. Go home. She didn’t look at him although she could feel his eyes on her still. Shifting her gaze to her boots she struggled to force herself to leave. Her feet were not at all cooperative.
She heard him step closer. She could smell him, motor oil, dirt, sweat and the lingering scent of juniper soap. The last made her smile. His sister or a girlfriend must have bought it for him, she thought.
“Something else on your mind?”
A lot of things were on her mind at that moment. But the pressing question was why had he been outside her house? She looked up at him and saw the caution in his gaze. Heat flared in her cheeks. The question burned on her lips. She had to ask but she knew he wouldn’t want to discuss it with the boys so close. “Can we go to your office?”
“Yeah.” He licked his lips and scratched at a scab on his elbow before gesturing for her to lead the way. He followed behind her, shutting the door against the intense stares of his friends. “What’s on your mind, Claudia?”
“You were at my house?” She knew the answer but wanted to see what he would say.
He ran a hand down his face, tugging at the start of a goatee on his chin. His eyes looked tired. “Yeah, I was.”
She waited for him to continue but he didn’t. He leaned against the side of the desk and picked at a hole in his pants. She realized that even when he was still he was always moving. Fidgeting. She looked at the small patch of bronze thigh visible through the hole that was growing larger by the second. Deciding there was nothing to lose she pressed, “Did you need to talk to me?”
“Was thinkin’ about it.” He didn’t look at her, still picking away at the tattered fabric.
Talking to walls was easier. At least you knew why they wouldn’t answer a question. Unsatisfied and growing annoyed she charged on, “What changed your mind?”
“You left.”
He’s got you there. Wish you would look at me, Dom. I don’t know what you’re thinking. Finding it impossible to gage what the next move should be and feeling very much like she was playing a game of emotional chess while blindfolded she thought hard about leaving. But she couldn’t. There was something about the droop of his shoulder, the flex of his jaw, the brush of his eyelashes that rooted her to the concrete. It was merely an interpretation of body language but she read sadness there. Still unsure she asked, “Did you want to talk about it now?”
“Nope.”
His tone told her he was serious. His body language told her he wasn’t. She had no idea how to deal with the conflict. Her mind tried to muddle through the options while her lips formed the words, “I see.”
“Doubt it.” With a deep sigh he spread his hands, palms up and shrugged, “Look, I don’t really know what I was doing there. I was just driving and I wound up outside your gate. Had a lot on my mind that day. When I saw you leave I was still trying to figure out why I was there.”
“Did you?” Now she was staring at a small brown stain on her own pants leg. Motor oil. Just walking through his shop got her dirty.
“Nope.” He pushed off the desk and started popping his knuckles. “Curious why you pretended you didn’t see me though. Damn car is hard to miss.”
Busted.
“I was studying for my first anatomy exam and I was on my way to the library and I saw you there and I didn’t know why you were there and I wasn’t sure what to think of that and I almost went to talk to you but then I wasn’t sure if you wanted me to know you were there…so I left.” She was breathless when she finished. It had to have been longest most rambling sentence she’d ever delivered. Felt like a five-year-old justifying cookie theft.
“I see.”
“Doubt it.” She mimicked without really meaning to. It earned her a lopsided smile and a head shake.
~~~~~
“So whatcha think of your new place, girl?” Letti turned a circle around the small room taking in the subtle hues of violet and jade that Mia favored at the moment. Not a color scheme she would have picked but it was very, very Mia. She sat on the edge of the small single bed and continued, “You don’t even have to share it, got yourself a private. How’d you swing that?”
Mia hung up the last of her clothes in the closet and quipped, “He didn’t want to inflict me on anyone else I guess.”
Letti sighed in disgust. Mia was someone she loved dearly but her bouts of self-pity and martyrdom drove her nuts. Dom was the asshole and Mia was the one feeling bad. Wasn’t right in her opinion. “When you gonna stop feelin’ sorry for yourself, girl? This is his fault, not yours.”
Mia turned sorrowful, tear bright eyes on her and Letti flinched a bit. “I hurt him, Let.”
“Yeah, well, what goes around comes around don’t it?” Letti stood again and stretched her arms over her head, yawning wide as she did so. Dom getting hurt was exactly what he deserved. She still didn’t know exactly what they’d fought over but it was an easy assumption that it had something to do with her. Why did he have to be such a dick?
Mia took her place on the bed. “I miss him.”
“Yeah.” Letti tried to keep a hard edge to her voice. She tried to hang on to the self-righteous anger that had gotten her this far without any more tears. But inside her heart screamed, I do too.
Mia must have seen her discomfort changing the subject. “Talked to the team lately, Letti? The guys miss you.”
“Yeah. Talked to Leon some. He thinks I should try to work it out. Says Dom’s just goin’ through some shit right now. He actually said that if I didn’t get my ass back quick it’d be replaced. Like it hasn’t already been. Bastard.” Bitterness coursed through her again. She’d wanted to slap Leon for defending Dom. “I don’t wanna talk to the guys right now. Not if that shit’s all they have to say.”
Mia put a hand on her shoulder but she flinched away. The only people she ever let comfort her were her mom and Dom. He was gone. Her mom not far behind.
Mia’s big brown eyes were earnest. “I think Leon’s right, Let. Not about the replacement part, but Dom really is on edge right now. He needs you.”
Still defending the asshole even after he kicks you out? Stupid bitch. But if she’s a stupid bitch for defending her brother what does that make you for defending the lying, cheating asshole all those years? She shook her head, trying to drive out the desire to believe that he really did need her. That he wanted her. But that wasn’t true anymore. Dom was an asshole. And she didn’t need him.
“Yeah right, like he needs another hole in his head.” He’d called a bunch of times but she was screening her calls and deleted his messages without listening to any of them. Just hearing his voice made her want to kill someone. She hated him for hurting her and she hated herself for being weak enough to entertain thoughts of taking him back. Thank God for Marco.
~~~~~
The water was warm, pounding against his skin, massaging away the aches of the day.
Dom reached for the soap and discovered a bottle of something where a bar should have been. Bath and Body Works. Mia. He hadn’t complained when she replaced his Zest with soap that smelled like trees after a hard rain. He’d secretly liked it. He’d even liked the little scrubby thing she’d hung off the showerhead that matched the color of the towels. It was so Mia. But bath gel?
The bottom line was he missed her. How did it get this bad? How could she think that? Even in his anger he missed her. He shoved Mia’s face from his minds eye, but Letti’s replaced it. He missed her too. In a shower filled with the scent of Mia’s care he should have felt the touch of Letti’s love.
Long raven hair, undulating in soapy rivulets down the smooth olive skin of her breasts. Soap bubbles drifting over curves and scars alike with equal tenderness. Her hands, feather light touches on his skin, leaving molten trails in their wake. A silent, speechless ritual. Washing away the harsh words and rough banter. Angelic in it’s softness. Beautiful. Rare. Over.
The shower suddenly lost its appeal and became a totally utilitarian event. He washed quickly and climbed out. It was cold, instantly cold, reminding him that the house was empty, not that he’d forgotten.
No Mia. No Letti. No team. No nothing. Just him and the house and all the memories that called it home.
Goose bumps broke out on his skin and he grabbed one of the towels that matched the scrunchy scrubby as Mia called it. She had lots of cute little names for things.
God, I have to stop thinking about this shit. Gonna make myself crazy.
He hated being alone. That was the thing. He played tough, hell he was tough, but he didn’t care much for his own company. He needed people around him. He thought about calling Mia. He thought about calling Letti. He thought about calling the boys.
In the end he called Claudia.
~~~~~
“C’mon in, it’s unlocked,” Dom’s voice called from inside the house.
Claudia stood on the porch and tried to settle down. He just needed a friend and maybe an ear. She had no idea why he called or why she accepted his last minute invitation. There was just something in his voice that told her she needed to go.
Standing on his porch, she wasn’t so sure.
She took a deep breath and reminded herself that, no matter what, this was to remain a platonic evening. There would be no obvious staring, no innocent touches, no kissing and absolutely under no circumstances whatsoever would there be sex. Ground rules. That’s what they were.
Besides a man that attractive probably had lots of women all over him. She didn’t want to become part of a harem did she? No, she did not.
She pushed open the screen door and got her first surprise of the evening. She hadn’t known what to expect exactly but a vivid picture of the quintessential den of iniquity; replete with black leather couches, fake animal skin throw blankets, black lacquer furniture and posters of nude women that bachelors on the prowl seemed to prefer had formed in her head.
Instead it was a home, a real honest to goodness home done in muted earth tones. Nothing false or pretentious about it. Built-in shelves full of books and photographs lined the room. Paintings on the walls. Someone had good taste. Correction, a woman had good taste. It was even clean.
Dom leaned out of the kitchen. He’d showered and shaved but still had dark circles under his eyes. Dressed in a black V-neck tee shirt and black drawstring pants, he was barefoot. A silver crucifix hung around his neck and she wondered if it was just for show or if he was catholic. “You comin’ in or what?”
“Yes.” Claudia felt a little stupid as she drifted toward the kitchen. But she was also curious. He was a hard one to figure out. “Who was your decorator?”
His weight shifted and his eyes scanned the room. “Stuff kind of accumulated over the years but most of this was my mother’s.” He looked back at her giving a forced smile. “Couches are new though. Mia picked them out. I just pay for stuff.”
Feeling bad for assuming the worst and for striking a nerve Claudia mumbled, “Your home is lovely.”
“Thanks. Toretto women have an artists touch.” He disappeared back into the kitchen.
She followed a couple paces behind remembering how his mood had shifted in front of the Picasso at her house. His mom had been a painter. Another nasty memory. You’re batting 1,000, she ridiculed herself. Trying to salvage the moment she thought of his cars. “The men are creative as well or did my eyes deceive me at the garage?”
“Ha,” he snorted and turned to the chopping block.
She put her bag on the counter and turned to survey his kitchen. It bore a heavy woman’s touch, the sort of kitchen belonging to someone who loved through food. She watched him chop garlic for a minute and asked, “So what are you making here?”
“Just pasta. Nothin’ fancy.”
“Riiiiight,” Claudia said looking at the monstrous pile of chopped vegetables and packages of shellfish and shrimp on the counter.
He’d asked if she’d eaten when he invited her over. She’d figured she could get something on the way but he’d insisted she let him cook. She’d eaten anyway convinced he had to be bad at something. From the look of things cooking wasn’t it. Rubbing her full belly she wished she’d forgone the Big Mac.
She also wished she’d asked what he was cooking. “I brought wine. But it seems I should have asked what the chef was preparing. Cabernet doesn’t go well with this I don’t think.”
He smiled and started chopping an onion. “No worries. Bottle of Pinot Grigio in the fridge.”
Claudia was again shocked. You are just a wealth of surprises aren’t you? “You like wines?”
He seemed to think about his answer for a minute and then shrugged, “Truth is, I asked someone at the grocers what would be good with this. So if you like it you can thank Steve at the Von’s down the street.”
Claudia laughed. “Well then, can I assume from this admission that you are also among the few men capable of asking for directions?”
Dom lit a burner on the stove and poured olive oil into a pan. His eyes twinkled briefly. “Hate to burst your bubble but I think I’d rather die first.”
Claudia laughed again in spite of herself. “Yet another illusion shattered.”
He looked at her, big brown eyes filled with something she couldn’t describe. It was clear that while he was being charming something was bothering him. She wondered if she was there to lance the wound. Maybe he wanted her to make him talk. Then again, maybe he wanted to forget about troubles and she was the necessary distraction. She wasn’t sure so she decided to accept the role of distraction until he indicated otherwise. Looking around the kitchen she asked, “So can I help?”
“Yup, open the wine.”
~~~~~
“Leeeon.”
Leon spun around fast, the voice one he remembered from dark days in his past. “Marco?” He quickly masked his shock, plastering a disinterested look on his face. He finished locking the shop door, asking over his shoulder, “When they let your sorry ass out?”
Marco sauntered up to Leon’s car and leaned against the Skyline’s front fender. Keys in hand he tapped them against the hood as if he meant to scratch the expensive yellow paint. “Few days ago, man. Thought I’d come look up the old crew. See how you punk asses faired without me. Looks like you found a new gang though, huh?”
Leon’s eyes never left the keys, “You could say that.”
Marco slipped his keys into his pocket and Leon’s attention turned to his face. The bitterness he saw there scared him. He remembered that back in the day Marco carried a gun. As his eyes swept over all the likely hiding places, Marco slid onto the hood of the car, the chain attached to his wallet making a screeching noise as he moved.
Perched atop the car, Marco shrugged at the deep scratches he’d left behind him and smiled, “Oops. Sorry about that, man. Guess your new team’ll help you fix it, right?”
The smile faded and anger lit a fire in his golden eyes. “Never knew it was so easy to turn your back on family. I get locked up protecting your ass and you run off to become Toretto’s bitch takin’ Jesse with you. Where’s the love, man? Where is the love?”
Leon blinked at the scratches on his beloved car and thoughts of guns were supplanted by incredulity. Marco had some balls. His words and his actions drove Leon over the edge. Without a thought in his head, he reached out and shoved Marco off his car. Marco rolled off the hood but caught himself before he fell to the ground.
Leon was on him in an instant. Taking a page out of Dom’s book of intimidation, he grabbed Marco by the shirt and got within an inch of the man’s nose. Forcing his voice as deep as it went he growled, “Fuck you, man. Don’t go actin’ like you did me a favor or something cause you didn’t save my ass from shit. I did my stretch too. Jesse’s dad is still in lock up cause a you.”
Marco slapped his hand out of the way and started backing toward his Prelude. His eyes promised retribution. “Fuck me? No, no, no, Leon. You got that wrong. I’m gonna fuck you and your bitch ass leader six ways from Sunday. Nobody turns their back on me. Be seein’ you, Leon. Be seein’ you real soon.”
Watching the Prelude speed away, Leon felt his knees go weak. “Fuck.”
~~~~~
Letti contemplated what she was about to do and felt slightly nauseated.
Marco wanted her to go with him to the races. She wasn’t a stupid girl and she knew what that would mean. She knew what people would see, what they would assume.
Would Dom even be there?
Sometimes he didn’t go. He liked keeping people guessing. It worked like a charm. Huge crowds would show up every weekend with the hope of seeing him race. Even when he did go, he was more often a spectator than a racer, offering advise and guidance to the newbees, constantly elevating the level of competition. He relished the challenge, racing only those that stood a chance to beat him, on rare occasion they did. Kept it interesting for everyone and raised him to the level of a demigod in the eyes of many. The entire L.A. scene was built around him, the center of their little universe. As Mia said, he was like gravity.
She, on the other hand, was just a trophy, a trophy that could kick almost anyone’s ass behind the wheel of her 240SX, but still just a fuckin’ trophy. Fuckin’ Dom.
She looked at herself in the mirror surveying the tiny leather miniskirt and mesh top she was wearing. She didn’t generally spend much time worried about clothes but she was going to the races for the first time in her life alone and it made her feel uncomfortable, naked almost.
Since accepting Marco’s invitation she’d been second guessing herself. It was the point of no return. There would be nothing left to patch up if she went. Dom was the only man she’d ever loved, ever slept with - until recently. He’d told her once that he loved knowing he was the only one. If he ever found out he wasn’t he’d be through with her. Of that she was certain. Maybe she shouldn’t go. Everyone would assume, correctly, that she had a new lover. Once that happened, even if he wanted to, Dom wouldn’t be able to take her back and save face. She knew that.
The phone rang and she picked it up, “Hello?”
“Hey Letti, you ready yet? I’ll be at your house in five minutes.” Marco’s voice.
Why did I tell him I’d go? Was I high? Shit. I’m too mixed up, not thinking clearly. This is too big a decision to make so fast.
“I don’t think I’m gonna make it, Marco. My mom isn’t lookin’ so good and I think I should stay home.” There you go, lie on your mom. Every heard of self fulfilling prophesies?
There was a pause then he said softly, “Aw, Let. I was lookin’ forward to getting back into it. Sure you can’t sneak away for a couple hours?”
Letti stood in the center of her room, twisting a lock of hair and chewing on her lower lip. “I really can’t, Marco.”
He seemed to accept that, changing the subject. “Hey, know anyone with a black Mercedes?”
“No. Why?” Her stomach twisted into knots.
“Just wonderin’. There’s a black SLK outside Mia’s house. Must be a friend a hers from college. Phat ride.”
Mia isn’t there. She’s at UCLA. Who’s at his house then? Some scank. Fuck. Fuck! FUCK!! God damn you Dom!
Tearing her jacket off the door handle she practically shouted into the phone, “I’ll meet you at the curb.”
~~~~~
This place is like wandering through someone’s heart, Claudia thought. It was a museum. It was a shrine. But it was real. People lived here. People loved here. It was nothing like her house.
She took a sip of her wine and looked back at Dom who seemed totally engrossed in sautéing shrimp. Without a word she stepped out of the kitchen and back into the living room. The books in the shelves were eclectic, fiction, history, religion, art. Someone loved to read.
Photographs dotted the literary landscape bringing a homey chaos to the neat shelves. They made her smile. Photos of small children, Dom and his sister. He’d been an adorable kid with a huge bush of unruly hair. His sister looked like a doll. Black and whites of a woman that looked just like Mia. Some of them were with Dom. Over and over, a tall thin man beside numerous cars. He held trophies, he held his kids. Photos of Dom and all the people from the garage. A beautiful girl she hadn’t met clinging to him like a barnacle in all of them.
Her eyes swept past them to the paintings. Similar brush strokes, use of color and light. All the work of the same artist. One in particular caught her eye. It was a beach at sunset from a distance. Down at the surf line a little boy chased a golden retriever. Looking at it made her happy.
“Dog’s name was Acorn.”
She nearly jumped out of her skin. “You scared me. I didn’t hear you.” She turned away from the painting to find Dominic about a step away from her, a wistful look on his face as he stared at the painting. She turned back to the painting. “Is that you and your dog?”
“Yeah. She used to take us to the beach. I’d play with Acorn. She’d paint. This is the only one she framed though. Guess she didn’t like the rest of them.”
“But it looks like all of these were done by the same person.” Claudia looked around the room at the various expressions of one woman’s life. A boy and his father huddled over a car. A sunrise over the roofs of houses. All very personal and intimate. All beautiful.
“Yeah, she did. But for every one she framed there were like 20 that were banished to the attic. This is the only one from the beach that she liked is what I meant. I’m gonna go finish up.”
His shoulders drooped a little as he walked away. She noticed he was pigeon toed, an adorable little boy chink in his overtly masculine façade. She followed him back into the kitchen.
~~~~~
“Ain’t we hittin’ the races? I though we was goin’ out tonight, brother.”
“Nah, V. Not tonight.” Leon said quickly.
The three of them were sitting around their cramped living room watching an old Steve McQueen movie.
Vince jumped up from the ancient couch. “Why the fuck not? I’m broke and I heard TJ’s running his new Civic tonight. Gonna be some heavy money on that lil’ car, man. Just cause Dom ain’t goin’ don’t mean we can’t.”
Leon had been considering his options since he got home. He hadn’t been able to make a decision but now, with Vince staring intently at him, he knew he had no choice. He searched for the right words for a moment, concern for Jesse foremost in his mind. There was no easy way to tell it, no way to make it any less worse than it was. Eyes on Jesse he said, “Cause Marco Andolini got out.”
Jesse instantly blanched. “Oh shit.”
“What the fuck do I care ‘bout him?” Vince shrugged, oblivious to Jesse’s reaction.
Leon had an almost undeniable urge to throttle him. Hanging on to the neck of his Corona like a drowning man clutches a life preserver and willing himself to be calm Leon explained, “You care cause Marco is a bad ass with a gun. That’s why you care, man. Me and Jes was part of his crew a while back. Fucker is pissed we’re running with you now, V. And Marco is not someone you want pissed at your ass. Makes Johnny Tran look like an altar boy, bro.”
“Bitch wouldn’t fuck with Dom though. Not if he’s smart.” Vince countered.
You really are the biggest idiot I have ever met. Growing angrier by the second Leon reminded his friend, “Vince, you got in a fight with Marco, remember? He beat the shit outta you. Probably would a been a lot worse if Dom hadn’t saved your smack talking ass. Remember telling me about this shit, Vince? 7th grade or something wasn’t it?”
He remembered, Leon knew, because he sat down on the couch and rubbed at his beard the way he did when he was uncomfortable. He made one final stab though, puffing up like a small bird, he countered, “Shit’s different now, brother. Dom’s the man and he won’t take shit off nobody.”
From what Leon had heard, Dom was the man back then too. It was also true that Dom didn’t take anybodies shit, but the guy wasn’t bullet proof. Though he didn’t want to explain, Leon knew the only way he was going to get through Vince’s thick skull was if he told him the story. It was the only way to convince him that the problem was beyond a schoolyard brawl and would take more than charismatic bravado and fists the size of ham hocks to fix.
Keeping a sympathetic eye on Jesse, Leon told the story that landed him in jail for 6 months and still had Jesse’s father in lockup. It was a tough audience, Jesse and Vince listening from opposite ends of the spectrum. Jesse was reliving some of the most terrible moments of his life and Leon tried to be sensitive to his friend’s grief while at the same time being direct enough to make Vince understand it’s severity.
When he reached the end, he collapsed into his seat beside Jesse and put a hand on his back. Poor kid looked ready to throw up.
Vince sat quiet for a long moment. When he finally spoke all he said was, “This is not good, man.”
~~~~~
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