“I shouldn’t have done that,” he said as he broke the kiss. He was hard as a rock and ready to go but Letti’s face refused to leave his minds eye.
Claudia leaned back in the drivers seat and sighed. “I know. This is impossible isn’t it?”
“I wouldn’t say that exactly. Timing just sucks.” What the fuck is wrong with me, he thought. He’d never turned down an opportunity like this in his life. Hell, he’d bedded women not nearly as pretty and far less interesting. Perhaps that was it. She was too good to become another notch in the headboard. She wasn’t that kind of girl.
He looked over at her, hair shimmering in the slight breeze through the open car window, hazel eyes downcast. She looked hurt. He hated that look, hated knowing he caused it. He reached out and lifted her chin, making her look at him, wanting to make it better somehow. But Mia’s face flashed in front of him and he removed his hand as fast as he could without showing his sudden panic. He couldn’t take it if another girl thought he’d hit her. His eyes fell to the dashboard and he spoke again, “I have to tell you something.”
She sighed, “You have a girlfriend don’t you?”
Oh shit, here we go. “We broke up last week. We were together four years.”
“The girl in all the pictures.” Claudia looked over at him, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, removing the evidence of his kiss. Watching her do that was like a knife in the chest. It must have showed. Her eyes flicked to his face and she stopped, letting her hand drop into her lap, a weak smile on her lips.
“Yeah. That’s Letti. Known her since she was a little kid.” She’d been all of seven when he met her, a new friend of Mia’s over to play after school. She never left. For the next nine years she annoyed the hell out of him following him around like a puppy, always in his way. Then she turned 16 and she became a beautiful and all too tempting piece of jailbait. He fought with that for a while, nearly killing himself trying to avoid her. It was the only thing prison had been good for, giving him two years free of her constant attention and teaching him that he missed it.
When he got out she still adored him, still wanted him. He’d needed that more than he could have expressed to her, not that he would have even if he’d had the words. Their relationship had never been like that. They’d never been big on talking, letting actions speak for themselves. For all her combativeness, her unwavering faith had been his anchor through that difficult period and continued to be long after. He felt set adrift without her and he hated it. He knew it was over, felt it in the depths of his soul but couldn’t let go yet, not without a fight.
Claudia was a good person with a sincere interest that he also felt but he couldn’t sacrifice the possibility that Letti might, just might, get over it and forgive him. “As much as I wanna do this I just don’t think I should right now. It’s not fair to you…or her.”
She was silent for a long moment. Then she reclaimed the chopstick looking things from his hand and tied her hair back up returning to the bookish, less than beautiful woman he’d met only a week before. She smoothed down her sweater and gave him her eyes again this time the hurt was gone replaced by something resembling pity. “True. But it isn’t fair to you either, Dom.”
He hated that look more than the hurt he’d seen before. There was nothing worse than being felt sorry for especially when it was his fault in the first place. “Shit. I did this to myself, Claudia.”
Again she noticed his displeasure and wiped the piteous look of her face replacing it with concern, something he could tolerate even if he didn’t like it. She reached out and put a hand over his. This time there was no spark, just a friendly gesture meant to calm. She cocked her head and asked, “How so? What egregious sin did you commit?”
A laundry list of sins paraded through his mind. Several blondes, a couple brunettes a redhead or two, he’d lost count. He hadn’t been particular, his lovers as ethnically mixed as a full meeting of United Nations delegates. There had been other stuff too but it was his whoring that got him into this mess. Hanging his head, shamed by the conquests he’d frequently bragged about he admitted, “Sins, plural, too many to list. I’m amazed she put up with me for so long.”
“You must have something very special between you then.” He caught her use of the present tense and secretly loved her for it. How bizarre to be getting relationship advice from someone he’d been kissing only minutes before. He met her eyes and was surprised by the genuine expression on her face. In another time and another place he could fall in love with this girl but not now, not when Letti still owned his heart.
He climbed out of the Sentra and walked around to the driver’s side, opening the door. He offered a hand that she took and pulled her to her feet. There was so much he wanted to say, things weighing so heavily on his heart that desperately wanted to be freely spoken but all he was able to croak out was, “Yeah. I’ll walk you to your car.”
~~~~~
“Oops. Sorry.” Mia mumbled an apology as she bounced off someone in the hall.
“Hey, no worries. I’ve never seen you here before. You visiting?”
“No, I…” Mia finally looked up meeting the greenest eyes she’d ever seen. They were set in an angular face with a cleft chin. A blush crept warm and red across her cheeks and she finished her sentence in a rush. “I just moved in today.”
“Cool. I’m Trevor Bentley.” He stuck out a hand.
She took it and returned his smile. “Mia Toretto.”
He ran his other hand through thick sandy colored hair and joked, “Toretto, huh? You connected? Got some cousins I should worry about?”
“What?” She dropped his hand and took a slight step back. She wasn’t used to being teased so quickly. Most people tiptoed around her, aware that messing with her also meant messing with Dom.
“Sorry, bad Italian joke.” Well, duh. She glared at him failing to see how he could possibly think that was funny. He shrugged apologetically. “Hey, I can make those. My mom’s Italian.”
talian with a name like Trevor? She gazed into those green eyes again and doubted every word. Cocking her head to the side in the same way her brother did when he thought someone was bullshitting him she asked, “And she named you Trevor?”
“Yeah. Trevor George Bentley the third at your service.” The smile never left his face.
She looked him over a little closer noting his golden complexion and sun lightened brown hair. She could see it. He was very good looking she decided. Maybe living in the dorms wouldn’t be so bad after all. Painting a smile on her face she said. “Well, that would explain it. My brother’s a junior.”
Trevor’s impossibly white smile brightened. “Hope he made out better on the name thing than I did.”
Just talking about Dom made her heart ache. Knowing she looked sad and incapable of changing it she replied, “I think so. Dominic Anthony Toretto, Jr. At least it works for him. He really looks like a Dominic.”
She wondered if he’d know the name and back off like so many others did. It didn’t seem to mean anything to him though. He shrugged and teased, “And I don’t look like a Trevor?”
“Well…” She met his playful gaze again and felt her sadness lift a little. He really didn’t look like a Trevor to her. Unable to conjure a joke or anything intelligent to come back with she shrugged. “I guess everyone looks like their name in the end don’t they?”
“Yeah.” He looked uncertain for a moment, the silence dragging out uncomfortably long. Mia found herself wondering how to make a graceful exit when he asked, “Hey, my fraternity’s having a party tomorrow night. You wanna go?”
She beamed. He was asking her out. Rebelliousness reared its head and she realized that for the first time she got to decide if she would go or not. She didn’t have to get the Dominic Toretto seal of approval. Trevor wouldn’t have to suffer the rigors of the rapid fire interrogation Dom put every potential date through before threatening them with bodily harm should anything unsavory happen to her. As a result Trevor wouldn’t spend the entire evening thinking more about her brother’s massive fists than he thought of her. Momentarily tossing aside her sorrow and glowing with new found freedom she found herself giggling as she said, “Sure. I’d love to.”
~~~~~
“Dominic?”
He’d just crested the stairs to the porch when she called to him. He turned to look at her. The window was down on the SLK and he could see the reverse lights on. She was leaving. Half of him wanted her to go and half wanted her to stay and make him tell her everything. Girls always did that didn’t they? They always asked questions like ‘what’s wrong’ until a man cracked and poured out his soul. It was just the way things worked wasn’t it? He waited expectantly for the ‘are you going to be okay’ that was the other female hallmark.
“It was just one kiss, Dom, that’s all. No harm, no foul. Feeling guilty over something so small won’t make anything any better. I say we forget it ever happened.” She must have noticed his jaw drop before he did because she smiled at him with the kind of indulgence usually reserved for small children. Where was the 20 questions game? Her smile broadened and she admitted, “However, I refuse to pretend you didn’t cook me a wonderful meal or teach me something about the joys of speed. Where things go from here is completely up to you, but I would like to remain friends.”
And he actually believed her. It was another oddity he couldn’t wrap his mind around. He’d heard it countless times before but usually it was something girls said so they could continue getting into his pants. The honesty of it tugged at his heart. No walls, no fronts, no bullshit. There was no way he could just be friends with this girl, absolutely no way.
He couldn’t get involved with her either. Even if he and Letti never got back together, even if he somehow got over it, he knew he could never make a girl like Claudia happy. Not even if he could somehow keep his dick in his pants and just be friends. The reason was obvious and he stated it plainly. “I’m just the mechanic, Claudia.”
She shook her head and looked back up at him with earnest eyes. “You are far more than that.”
Her gaze dropped for a second and then she checked the rearview mirror making her intent to leave clear. She started to slowly back out of the driveway saying, “Try to forget about this, Dom. It isn’t worth losing sleep over. Goodnight.”
~~~~~
“I am soooooo glad that’s over.” Letti breathed as the Prelude pulled away from the curb.
“Aw baby, it wasn’t that bad. Kinda cool to see everybody again.”
“Maybe for you,” she growled. For her it had sucked and she was exhausted from the struggle to stand up under the rough stares and cruel words of the people she’d seen there. She’d figured it would be bad but had no idea it would be like that. People she’d known for years shunned her. Friends bluntly told her what they thought of her being there with Marco. She’d fought them all off but felt smaller and smaller after each battle.
“You knew it wasn’t gonna be easy, Let. Getting your life back after living in someone else’s shadow for so long isn’t fun. It was like that for me too busting loose from my first crew to run my own. Felt like shit but after a while I realized how cool it was to be in control of my own destiny. You don’t have to be a trophy anymore, Let.”
“Fuck you, Marco. I’m nobody’s trophy.”
The words were a lie. That was really all she was, just Dominic Toretto’s trophy. It was the first time she realized how lost she’d let herself become. Dom overwhelmed everything, he always had. None of these people knew her as anything other than the dopey little girl that clung to his pants leg and eventually became his girlfriend.
“That’s not what I heard. I heard Dom was always callin’ you that. Also heard he’ll be real pissed you’re rollin’ with me now. Told by a bunch a folks to watch my back.” Marco chuckled as if Dominic’s anger was the barking of a small dog, irritating but harmless.
“Fuck Dom. He messes with you he messes with me and trust me, he knows better.”
“Sure. That’s why he called you his trophy. You weigh what? A buck ten? Shit, he comes in at 210? 220? Yeah, I bet that big bruiser’s shaking in his boots right about now, girl.”
She thought about his words for a moment realizing that if Dom really had been afraid of her wrath he never would have done the things he did. She’d talked a lot of smack but never delivered on any of it. He’d known she wouldn’t. She made it so easy for him, lying down like a fucking doormat and letting him wipe his boots on her heart.
Her mind skipped over her many scrapes that evening. Just a week before not one of those people would have messed with her. She’d always thought it was because she was a tough little bitch that no one was willing to fuck with. But it was Dom they didn’t want to piss off, not her. The nausea rose again at the sudden understanding that everything she’d thought she was had been Dom’s creation. Without him to support it, she’d crumbled.
Marcus opened his mouth to say something else, but she couldn’t take another word. She felt like crying and she’d be damned if she let him see that. Calling upon her now pitifully small reserve of strength she said, “Just shut the fuck up and take me home.”
~~~~~
Dominic sat on his porch in the dark staring at the window of Letti’s room across the street and three houses down. The lights were out and he assumed she was sleeping.
He’d been sitting there for however long it took to chain smoke his way through half a pack of cigarettes. The sky was beginning to lighten, black fading into a steely blue.
He leaned against the wall, took a long drag off his cigarette, watching the embers burn brighter and the smoke swirl into oblivion. It had started with an attempt to prioritize. But he couldn’t slow down the tumble of thoughts enough to order them. As they tossed about in his head they kicked hard at his lips, demanding the life only thoughts spoken aloud could have. He bit them back, and wished he’d asked Claudia to stay. Not to fuck, just to talk. The urge was strong and unfamiliar, near polar opposite of his usual modus operandi of drunken oblivion. He knew it was a slippery slope with terms like ‘useless drunk’ at the end, but it was the only thing that worked. He sighed and hung his head as if the weight of it was too much for his neck to support. Stubbing out his cigarette he got up. It was morning and there were better ways to spend his time. Hand on the door handle, he paused when he heard a car coming up the street.
A Prelude drove past and pulled into Letti’s driveway.
Surprise flooded him as Letti got out of the car dressed in one of the skimpiest outfits he’d ever seen her wear. Had she been at the races? Who the fuck was she with? He vaguely remembered the blue Prelude but couldn’t put his finger on who it belonged to. Then the guy got out.
Marco Andolini. Holy shit.
His vision instantly went red and he could see nothing. He heard his feet pounding down the pavement, felt his smoke addled breath quicken with the effort. His fist made contact with Marco’s chin and he relished the crunch of bone that greeted his ears. The red haze lifted just enough for him to watch Marco land in a heap at his feet. When Marco lunged back up, fist cocked to deliver a punch of his own, the veil came back down and he lost whatever control he might have had.
When the smoke cleared he was leaning against the dented side of the Prelude delivering a last kick to Marco’s side while Letti struggled to pinion his fists in her hands. She was shouting at him.
“What the fuck is your problem!”
He ripped his hands away from her, feeling like the skin burned where she’d touched him. “What the hell are you doing with this piece a shit?!”
She slugged him hard in the gut, but he hardly felt it in his anger. “God damn you, Dom! You don’t fucking own me! I’m not your God damn property. You fucked me over, literally you asshole. You can’t even remember her name can you, you mother fucking son of a bitch!”
He couldn’t see straight, stand straight or think straight. It had to be a very vivid nightmare, Letti would never do anything like this. But the evidence that she had was right in front of him. Beyond angry, all he could say was, “You’re fucking him? Marco Andolini?”
She glared at him, fists clenching and unclenching at her sides, hate searing from her black gaze. “What about Cristina Johnson, Darla Mitchell, Amber Wilkins, Katsumi Sato, Amelia Sanchez…”
“Shut up, Letti!” He bellowed but the voice sounded far away and not like his own. The red veil threatened to come back down and he fought against the urge to pound her into the pavement beside Marco. Fucking bitch, you mother fucking bitch. How could you do this to me? To us? He shoved off the car and without a backward glance shouted, “I’m done with this bullshit. Keep your ghetto trash boyfriend but stay the fuck outta my way, bitch.”
~~~~~
Claudia sat in front of the fire watching the flames dance and sputter. There was a book in her lap but it was long forgotten.
She licked her lips tasting Dominic mixed with cabernet. She took another sip of her wine trying to wash away his taste.
It had been a mistake to kiss him. She’d known it when she did it but couldn’t help it. His lips had looked so soft, his eyes so beautiful, dark inviting pools that drew her in. Like a moth to a flame, she thought. They die you know.
How did he get so far under her skin so fast?
It was a million little things, that stoic façade so regularly betrayed by body language, those dark expressive eyes, the way he licked his lips when he was nervous, his constant fidgeting, the little kid ‘who me’ look he’d perfected and that great booming laugh that seemed to come out of nowhere and surprise him as much as it did everyone else.
But it was also the sorrow that lurked just below the surface, the dark sleep deprived circles under his eyes that told her he worried. The struggle to keep it all inside, the way he was determined to be strong even when it killed him. The size of his heart was remarkable and endearing.
She’d nearly bit a hole in her lip to keep from asking him what was wrong. But he’d needed a distraction, not a lance. All night she’d fought with the question but never harder than she did backing out of his driveway. He’d looked so lost at that moment, nearly crushed.
She really didn’t have to ask, the equation had not been a difficult one. She’d seen his anger at his sister, felt the bitter loneliness that permeated the air in his empty house. She’d born witness to his continuing grief at the loss of his mother. Now she knew about his breakup. Didn’t know the circumstances, was fairly sure she never wanted to know, but could tell he blamed himself.
The hostility of the boys at the shop finally made sense. That girl, Letti, was as much a part of their lives as Dominic’s. They were defending their family. In a weird way that’s what they were. Sadly, that little group of people, whose only common bond as far as she could see was cars, was far more like a family than anything she’d ever known. And they were fighting, splintered, blaming Dom. Her presence wasn’t helping the situation either.
What a mess. What a terrible mess. Sitting in her chair by the fire, watching the sun start to make it’s presence felt, tasting the lingering flavor of Dom on her lips, she came to a decision.
She had to stay away from him.
~~~~~
Bitch.
It was a word she often used to describe herself but hearing it come from Dom’s lips was like a knife to the stomach. Even in their most heated arguments, shouting at the top of their lungs, he’d never called her that.
She half carried, half dragged Marco into her house. Her mother was wobbling painfully down the stairs as she pushed the door open. Oh God, please don’t let her fall, she prayed.
“Letti? What happened, baby girl?” Her mother’s breathing got heavier as she spoke as if just the effort of the words was too much for her.
Letti cringed inside but tried to keep her mother from seeing it. “Hang on, mom. Everything’s fine, just an accident with a wall. This is my friend Marco.”
“Hey.” Marco mumbled through split, bleeding lips.
Her mother took another step down the stairs looking hard at Marco’s battered countenance. Concern drew long lines in her pallid face. “Are you alright, son?”
Letti’s heart crumbled. The woman was so sick. Shifting the burden of Marco’s heavy frame she called, “I got it, mom. Hang on for a sec and I’ll get you back to bed, okay?”
She dragged Marco the rest of the way to the couch and started back to the foyer to find her mother shucking slowly into her coat.
“Mom? What are you doing?”
The impossibly thin woman reached for the door just as Letti lunged for it slamming it back shut. Knick of time, she thought. She looked at her mother’s eyes, huge in her hollow face. What she saw there was anger, the kind she used to run from when she was a little girl. She watched thin hands ball into fists and plant themselves on narrow hips. Maria Ramirez’ chin came up and she stated, “I’m going to go have a talk with the wall your friend ran into.”
Having felt that the mother/daughter roles had been reversed since the first signs of cancer Letti tried to stand up and take charge. “Mom, go back to bed. I’ll take care of it.”
Her mother sighed and let her eyes fall to the floor. Disappointed. Letti hated that look more than any other. She shrank back from it. “Lucetta, the evidence of how well you’re taking care of things is bleeding all over my carpet. You stay here and patch your friend up. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
She offered one final protest which was swiftly cut off. “Mom…”
“Do as you’re told, girl. There better not be any stains on my rug when I get back, you hear me?”
~~~~~
There was a knock on the door. He heard it and ignored it, guzzling down the last of his beer. Unable to form a thought that didn’t include a long string of epithets and curses he sat staring at the painting of he and Acorn running through the surf trying to find happier times.
“Dominic Anthony Toretto, you open this door right now!”
Oh shit. Please tell me that isn’t who I think it is, he thought as he bolted through his house to the foyer. It was 5am and they’d been outside shouting. It was a miracle the entire neighborhood wasn’t on his porch. Peeking out the window he felt his heart sink. He opened the door and offered a hand. “Mrs. Ramirez? Sorry, I didn’t know it was you.”
She took it and admonished, “You wouldn’t have opened the door for my daughter?”
“I…” words like ‘hell no’ and ‘fuck that bitch’ screamed through his mind but he bit them back. Putting some strength into his grip on her hand he lead her into the foyer mumbling, “Come in.”
She let him help her out of her coat and shrugged off his offer of coffee. She let him guide her to the couch and sat beside him in complete silence. She was still for a moment with her hands in her lap. Slowly she raised her head, leveling concerned black eyes on him. A hand came up and cupped his cheek reminding him what it had felt like to have his own mother love him. Her voice was faint as she asked gently, “Dom, what’s going on? I saw what you did to that boy. When did you become a bully, son?”
He felt like a five year old again. There was no way he could explain it to her and no way he could lie. He was still furious but he was also starting to hurt. How did this happen? His eyes closed as her thumb stroked his cheek and he felt like crying.
She sighed. “I know things haven’t been easy, Dominic. I know that Lucetta can be stubborn as a mule but so can you, boy. I know I haven’t been there for you two like I should be, but this is intolerable. I’ve watched you two fight like cats and dogs for years but I have never seen you hurt other people like this. What are you thinking?”
“I don’t know,” he mumbled wishing that she’d put her arms around him and be quiet, let him pretend she was his mother like she had when he was little.
She must have known because she reached out and pulled him to her. He buried his face in the crook of her neck and inhaled the scent of lavender that always reminded him of her. Under it was the terrible stench of sickness. Oh God, not you too. Please not you too.
Her hands patted lightly at his back and he pulled away from her, aware that he weighed far too much to be leaning so heavily on her. He kept his face down unwilling to face her until he’d stripped the sorrow off of it.
She grabbed his hands and squeezed, “You’d better figure it out quickly, Dom because I wont tolerate this kind of behavior from either of you.”
When he looked up, her face was deathly pale and his heart leapt to his throat. She needed to be back in bed. “Let me take you home.”
He stood and began to lift her, intent on carrying her back to her house, but she slapped at his well meaning hands.
“I got here on my own power and I’ll get back the same way. I don’t need a repeat of what happened in my driveway inside my house.”
He cringed at the rebuke. Why did he have to do stupid shit like that? Should have beat Marco down somewhere else. Reaching deep he pulled out the willpower to say sincerely, “I promise it won’t. Just let me take you back.”
She wilted like a cut flower before his eyes and nodded. He went to the door and got her coat, wrapping it around her before lifting her off the couch. She couldn’t have weighed 90 pounds. Her thin arms went around his neck and her scarf covered head fell against his chest as he carried her to the door and out into the early morning air. Her voice was little more than a whisper but he heard her say, “You’re a good boy, Dominic. Try to remember that.”
~~~~~
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