Chapter 1: Truth
Three weeks after the plane crash, Brian sat down on the beach next to him, threw another empty coconut into the water, and said, “All right, come on. Other side of the island and back, have to get one of the mangos on the eastern beach on the way. Winner gets to fuck the loser.”
Dom pushed up on his elbows and looked at him levelly. “O’Conner, you’ve been out in the sun a lot lately.”
Brian rolled his eyes. “We’re headed there and you know it. Let’s just go.”
Dom groaned and let himself lie back in the sand and put his hands over his face. Only Brian could come out with that kind of shit. Places angels feared to tread, and he’d be all hey, why not. Because they’d be fucked forever, that’s why not. “We’re gonna get rescued in a week.”
“Six months, if we’re lucky,” Brian said. “We were a full two hundred miles off the scheduled flight course when we went down.”
“And you can’t keep it in your pants for six months.”
“Yeah, how long’s it been since you kept it in your pants six days,” Brian said.
“A while, since my wife came back from the dead,” Dom said. “My wife, who will cut off your balls and mine and grill them for breakfast.”
“You think it gets better because we wait a couple more weeks until we can’t take it anymore?”
“I’ve been resisting your ass for eight years so far without a problem, O’Conner,” Dom said.
Brian snorted a laugh. “No you haven’t.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” Dom glared at him.
“Just because you like to try and fuck me with a car between your legs,” Brian started.
Dom shoved him over into the sand. “For Chrissakes, shut up already.” He didn’t want that shit out loud in words.
Brian tilted his head back to look up at him. “Other side of the island and back?”
Dom sighed. “Yeah, all right.”
They both exploded up from the sand at the same time, running all-out. Brian had the edge on the open sand, those long legs: Dom concentrated on keeping in range, not letting him pull too far away, and soon as they got on the rocks at the far end of the beach he split off and went for the ridge instead of going around. He pushed it hard, jumping, scrambling, using every ounce of muscle in his arms and legs to shove himself over. He skidded down to the eastern beach on the far slope, taking half a dozen scrapes on his legs, and came off just before Brian rounded the rocks on the other end.
They’d already stripped most of the lower fruits. Dom jumped for the nearest branch, pulled up with a grunt, managed to balance against the branch long enough to grab one from over his head. Brian had gone for a stick and was whacking the next tree over, catching one as it fell, and he was right on Dom’s heels as they both took off again. The island was maybe a couple of miles from one side to the other. You couldn’t run all-out because of the trees and bushes, but this time Dom charged straight through them anyway, ignoring the scratches and the thorns. Brian came after him, picking his way a little more carefully.
Yeah, he was figuring on taking it in the homestretch. “No chance, O’Conner,” Dom yelled, grinning wide.
“Keep telling yourself that!” Brian yelled back.
They burst out of the brush. Brian managed to dart around him and take the lead as they ran out on the rocks to the outermost spar, their orange SOS flag made out of the scraps of the liferaft waving from the end. Brian slapped the flagpole branch first and took off back to the other side. Dom threw himself right after. He took a higher route over the rocky middle, less crap to scramble through, and came down ahead of Brian on the other side. Brian was flying though, running all-out, coming up on his flank. Dom slowed down a little, timing it, and as they jumped over the trickling stream, he side-checked Brian hard, sent him sprawling into the grass, and ran flat-out for the beach.
“I don’t fucking believe you!” Brian yelled, scrambling up and racing after him, and Dom was laughing even as he fell over, Brian doing a flying tackle for his legs, and Dom just managed to drag himself forward and smack his hand into the surf before Brian clawed his way over him.
“Son of a bitch, Toretto!” Brian was saying, but Dom already had him tumbled over onto his back and was on him, kissing him, hauling those fucking legs around his waist. Brian was still panting and mad, chest heaving, and then he was kissing Dom back, both of them going crazy all over each other.
“Fuck, Brian,” Dom said, pulling his head in, sucking at his mouth, hot kisses — fuck, he hadn’t been this hot for anybody in —
“Oh, Jesus, Dom,” Brian said, hips grinding down on him. Dom slid his hands all over Brian’s back, feeling all that hard muscle, down to get a couple handfuls of his ass — he was going to fuck Brian, he was gonna take him. He dragged him out of the surf and back to the shelter, Brian staggering with him, eyes blown, panting. They fell down on the tarp and Dom grabbed for anything, any fucking thing — a handful of the coconut meat, only slick thing they had, and he shoved Brian down on his stomach and got on him.
It went about as smooth as his first time getting in a girl. Brian was tight and sweet as anything, gasping as Dom pushed into him, little by little. “Fuck, Dom!” he said, strangled.
“Don’t even start with me, O’Conner,” Dom said. “This was your idea.”
“Stupid fucking idea,” Brian said. “Ow, wait. Wait. Fuck! Okay — okay — wait — ”
They kept going. Brian squirmed a little, they worked at it some more, and then Dom jacked Brian’s hips up a notch and all of a sudden he was sliding the rest of the way home, getting right in there, and Brian said, “Shit!” and they both froze up a second.
“Oh,” Brian said, sounding surprised, like he’d just noticed what was happening. “Oh, shit, Dom.”
“Yeah,” Dom said, and slid a hand up onto Brian’s neck, took a hold and shook him gently, back and forth. When the semi was heading right for you in a one-lane tunnel, no way to turn, there wasn’t any point lying to yourself about it. “Let’s go, O’Conner.”
“Oh, fuck.” Brian was quiet and panting a few more moments. Finally he said, “Yeah. Okay. Fuck me.”
They switched it up every time at the start, but they weren’t fooling anybody including them, and maybe the third time it was Brian’s turn, Dom said, “Screw it,” and twisted over and grabbed Brian’s wrists. Brian stared at him, eyes going wide as he got it, breath already coming quicker, and Dom wrestled him over. It felt fucking amazing, hearing Brian groan as Dom put it in him, fast and hard. “Yeah, you’re taking it, O’Conner,” Dom said, half delirious. “You were made to take it from me.”
“Yeah. Yeah, I was, oh fuck,” Brian said, sounding just as high. “That’s fucking right, Toretto, come on, give it to me,” and afterwards while they were lying there panting side by side in the sand, Brian said grudgingly, “Yeah, okay, screw the principle,” and after that Dom was pretty much banging him twice a day, and life was fucking beautiful.
He’d wanted to own Brian from the day they’d met, and he hadn’t changed his mind any of the days since then. Climbing out of the wreckage of the Charger, Brian just handing him his keys, letting Dom take off even though that meant jumping out of the window of his entire fucking life — that was the first time Dom had ever looked at a guy and thought shit he’s got more guts than me. Dom didn’t believe in letting fear get in the way of things: you put it to the side, you got your shit done. But Brian was on a whole other level, and yeah, so it was actually a fucked-up level, but it still got Dom hot like nobody else he’d ever met.
And fuck, Brian wanted to be owned. Not bad enough to just give it up without a fight, but that only made it better: nothing Dom liked more than knowing he had to be good enough to make Brian give it up. Knowing that Brian wouldn’t have taken it from anybody else. Dom couldn’t get enough of it, laying Brian out and going at him. He sucked Brian’s cock, bit his thighs, fucked him on his slicked-up fingers; did him on his stomach, on his back with his legs over his shoulders; fucked his mouth, licked his ass, came on him, had him. Every way you could get on somebody, into somebody, he wanted. He didn’t even mind taking it once in a while, because even that felt like owning Brian, another piece of him. And Brian, fuck, Brian gave it up to him every time, handed it over, everything he wanted, saying it with his body: yours yours yours.
It was the only thing that made things bearable, that and the work they had to do all the time just to keep from starving or running out of water. Any shelter they made got knocked down or blown over or just fell apart within a week, and the baskets and pots they made to hold water leaked every fucking day, but they managed somehow. They both got good at spear-fishing.
At night Dom dreamed about food and driving, a long drive in the mountains pulling up to his front door, and when he opened the door calling Letty’s name and woke up before he got inside, sometimes the only thing that kept him from busting out in tears was Brian lying tangled in his arms, breathing deep, and the taste of his mouth when Dom pushed him on his back and started kissing the sleep out of him. Those times he could tell himself it was all about surviving, making it through this with his brain in one piece, and almost believe his own bullshit.
They’d been stranded almost four months when they got rescued: he was nursing up the fire while Brian waded out hip-deep trying for dinner. Dom looked up with his eyes tearing from smoke at the yelling, saw Brian waving his spear wildly in the air, back and forth, and by the time Dom ran out into the water and made it to him, he could see the boat turning towards them. Two days later they were getting off a private jet in L.A., and Mia was running across the tarmac and jumping straight into Brian’s arms, sobbing, reaching for Dom with her other hand, and Letty was strolling up, calmer.
“About fucking time you got home, Toretto,” she told him, and then he had her in his arms and she was all but crushing the breath out of him, holding on tight.
Roman and Tej and Ramsey were waiting further back with the kids, and the minivan was in the parking lot. “Forget it, both of you,” Roman said. “I’m driving. Y’all sit back there and relax, we’ll take you to a parking lot tomorrow, see if you remember how to drive.”
Dom flipped him the finger in the rear-view, but he didn’t really want to argue about it. “Daddy, are you a ghost or maybe a zombie?” Jack was asking, sounding pretty hopeful about it, from Brian’s lap. They were in the middle row, Brian with his hand on Rachel’s drowsy head, Mia smiling wet-eyed at them from the other side of the carseat. And Dom had his arm around Letty in the back row, leaning his head against her hair, the smell of her shampoo familiar, whole world made right.
They went back to the house, barbecue already fired up and ready to go. There was a lot of laughing, telling stories, and then the sun was going down and Jack was fast asleep, still in Brian’s lap. Mia said, “We should be getting home,” and Dom had to keep himself from crushing the neck of the bottle in his hand.
“Yeah, it’s getting late,” Brian said, sounding a hundred percent normal, and Dom wanted to punch him, right up until Brian came over and put his arms around him, and Dom felt his hands shaking and remembered Brian was the best goddamn liar he knew. Brian’s hand cupped against his head, and Brian kissed him on the cheek, and then he let go and left, swinging Jack up into one arm with the other around Mia’s waist.
Everybody else headed out after that, and Letty hauled him upstairs and fucked his brains out so hard he managed to quit feeling it for a while, burying his face in her breasts while she rode him up and down both sides of the bed. But afterwards they were lying there together breathing hard in the dark, and she said, “You want to tell me about it?”
I fucked Brian, he wanted to tell her, because he knew goddamn well that if he told her, she wouldn’t give a shit: he wasn’t dead, and who cared what he’d done to get by? So he couldn’t tell her, because it would’ve been a worse lie to get her believing that was all it’d been. “Nah,” he said, and she nodded and put her hand over his heart and went to sleep next to him.
He didn’t see Brian for the rest of the week. He told himself it was a good idea, remind both of them they were back in the real world, push the reset button. That Sunday they all went to church and back to the house after. Brian stuck close to Mia’s side the whole time or talking to Roman or Tej. When they ended up collecting empties together at the end and their shoulders brushed, he didn’t even look at Dom, wouldn’t so much as meet his eyes.
Dom dumped the bottles in the bin and grabbed him and shoved him against the wall. Brian punched him, hard enough to knock the breath out of him; Dom tackled him, and they were rolling around on the ground beating the shit out of each other, Roman and Tej trying to get them apart, until Jack screamed, “Daddy, daddy,” and they both quit instantly, shaking, as he came barrelling in and started trying to kick Dom.
Brian grabbed him up off the ground and pulled him in close, tucked Jack’s head against his shoulder and carried him to the minivan saying, “It’s okay, buddy, it’s okay, me and Uncle Dom were just wrestling, it’s okay,” turning his head the other way to wipe his bloody nose off on the back of his hand. Mia went after him carrying Rachel, throwing Dom one horrified, helpless look, and they were gone.
“What the fuck are you looking at?” Dom snapped at Roman, and banged into the house and got some ice. He went up to the bathroom and kicked the door shut behind him, washed off the blood, stood over the sink with the ice pressed to his eye while it melted, dripping away. He dumped the rest after about half an hour, wiped himself dry, and came out to find Letty waiting for him sitting on the bed. “Want to tell me about it now?” she said.
“No,” he said.
She just nodded and pulled him down to the bed. The next morning she woke him up early. “Get up, we’re going for a drive,” she said.
“Where’re we going?” he said, but she wouldn’t tell him, just took him to a diner for coffee and eggs, then put him in the passenger seat and drove all the way to the big auto junkyard out in Riverside. She parked next to Brian’s minivan. “Letty,” he said.
“Shut the fuck up, Toretto, let’s go,” she said. He followed her into the yard: Brian was standing there with Mia, hands in his pockets, a couple good bruises to match Dom’s shiner.
Letty leaned against the car next to Mia, both their arms folded, a united front. “Okay,” Mia said. “Go pick a car.”
Dom traded a look with Brian, but hell, it was worth a try. They had to do something. So they poked around wrecks for a while until Brian went around a corner piled with stacked-up rusting heaps and said, “Aw, man, that’s just wrong,” and Dom followed him around and saw the ‘62 Thunderbird hardtop just sitting there rotting, a godawful green paint job under what looked like twenty years of grime and dust, rusting holes chewed away in the wheel wells and the hood, the ornaments stripped, tires yanked —
“Who did this?” Dom said, putting up her hood — bits of rust sprinkled down — and they both said, “Holy shit,” as they saw the M-Code V8 sitting right under there, thick with dust.
They checked underneath to make sure there wasn’t any framerail damage, and then they hauled it back to Brian’s place so Jack could help them out with it: he was big enough to carry the tools, and wear his little pair of safety goggles. Jack was a little wary around Dom the first day, which broke his heart, but a couple of hours settled him down, and by lunchtime he was ready to get in Dom’s lap to steal the cookie Mia had strategically put on his plate.
They spent the next four months on the Thunderbird, morning to night most days. They had to lift the whole engine out and take it apart, clean every piece separately, put it back together — hell of a lot of fun. They had a handful of arguments about putting in an air ride (Dom won) and the fuel injection (Brian won), but most of the way it was smooth sailing. Dom hadn’t ever done anything like this before, rebuilt a car just for the hell of it. She wasn’t going to be doing any ten-second quarter miles, but that V8 was still a thing of beauty, and so was she, especially after they put in replacement panels, stripped all the paint, and did her up in a dark blue-green with a white top. The chrome shone like sunrise by the time they refinished it, and they ripped out the interiors and put in white leather with orange trim. Roman showed up with a box of gold-plated gauges one day, casually, and they looked at each other and Brian said, “Hell, yeah.”
They put white wall tires on her, obviously, and drove her to church for her first outing, Letty and Mia and the kids all piled in the back seat, Jack waving wildly at everybody who waved to them. “All right,” Mia said, after they got back to the house, “go.”
“What?” Dom said.
Mia made shooing gestures. “Go, take her out. You can eat when you get back,” and he and Brian grinned at each other and ran for the car at the same time. Brian won that one, vaulting the far side and landing in the driver’s seat laughing at him just as Dom grabbed the door handle. “All right, you can have the wheel this time,” Dom said, patting him on the shoulder as he got in on the passenger side.
They took her up into the mountains, not pushing, just enjoying the rumble of the engine and the wind going by. It was a beautiful day and the hours slid by, until it was heading on to sunset and they came across a closed turnoff for a scenic overlook, a good clear straight half-mile stretch of road. “What do you think?” Brian said.
“Let’s see what she can do,” Dom said, and climbed out to open up the gate for Brian to roll through. He got back in and Brian opened it up, got all four hundred horses going and flew the whole way, whooping as he spun her into a donut in the empty lot at the end and came around looking over the city to the Pacific.
Dom looked over at him, grinning, Brian laughing and bright right back at him, and then they quit laughing. Brian jerked the seat recline, and they managed to heave themselves into the back seat, shoving clothes out of the fucking way, kissing and groping and humping like stupid kids, all the way, starved for it. Dom had thought he was okay, he was over it. He wasn’t fucking okay; he wasn’t even a little okay. Less than five minutes and Brian was already getting close, that gasping noise he made. Dom shoved him over and sucked him off, and then he fucked him hard and fast, Brian sprawled out over the leather as beautiful as anything he’d ever seen.
They lay catching their breath afterwards. “Shit, Dom,” Brian said, flat on his back staring up at the sunset starting overhead.
“Yeah,” Dom said.
He was working hard on not recognizing just how fucked they were, and then Brian said, “I’m going to have to tell Mia.”
“Are you out of your mind, O’Conner?” Dom said.
“I have to!” Brian said. “This isn’t the island anymore! We keep acting like there’s nothing going on, we’re going to end up doing this again, you know it. Dom, I can’t—”
“Fuck,” Dom said comprehensively.
They watched the sun go down, and then they got their pants back on. Dom drove back to the house, and Brian collected Mia and the kids and took the Thunderbird home. Dom watched them go, and afterwards he turned to Letty and said, “All right. Now I do need to tell you about it.”
He didn’t try to whitewash any part of it, just gave it to her as straight as he could. Letty listened to him spell it out: she never gave anything away to anybody, and he loved her for it, but this time he would’ve been glad to see some kind of answer on her face before he finished and she said flatly, “Toretto, you fucking idiot. Not even for Mia and the kids?”
“We’re talking about this, aren’t we?” Dom said. He ran his hand over his face. “What do you think she’s going to do?”
“I have no fucking clue,” Letty said. “And you can sleep on the couch until I figure out what I’m going to do.”
Mia sailed in through the front door first thing the next morning, kept coming even as Dom got up to meet her, and didn’t pause long enough for him to get her name out before she planted a solid punch right in his eye. “Ow, Jesus, Mia!” Dom said, wincing back.
“I don’t believe you!” she yelled. She grabbed the bowl of nuts off the coffee table and smashed it over his arms as he ducked away, pistachios raining all over the floor. “How could you do this? I swear to God!” He managed to get around the couch, but she started grabbing books, vases, empty bottles and hurling them at him, and damn, Mia had a good arm. One of the books smashed right out the window into the back yard. “I get that you still think everything that’s mine is yours, but we’re not twelve anymore! He’s my husband, not my collection of My Little Pony, you asshole!”
“For Chrissakes, Mia, I had some help!” Dom yelled back, batting away an encyclopedia.
Mia only got madder. “Shut up! You know Brian’s crazy!” She grabbed the big antique candlesticks off the mantle and launched one, waited until he dodged, then beaned him right in the gut with the second one. “You know Brian’s crazy about you! Half the stupidest things in his life he’s done for you! More than half!”
“You wouldn’t even have met him if it wasn’t for me!” Dom said.
“Oh, right!” Mia stopped throwing things long enough to wave her arms wide. “How could I forget! I owe it all to you being a fucking criminal!”
He took the opening and dived over the couch to grab her arms before she could find anything else to throw at him. She head-butted him right in the middle of the forehead, and then kneed him in the balls so hard Dom wheezed out all his air and sank to his knees, holy shit was he sorry he’d taught her how to do that. He fully expected to be clocked across the skull with something else, but maybe Mia had run out of things in arm’s reach, or seeing him on his knees whimpering satisfied her bloodlust, because instead she stopped and stood over him panting.
“Want a drink?” Letty asked. She was leaning against the doorway from the kitchen pouring vodka into two big tumblers of orange juice.
“Yes, thank you!” Mia said, and stalked over to her and took the glass Letty held out to her.
“C’mon,” Letty said, putting her arm around Mia’s shoulders. “Let’s go sit outside. I’ve got a few ideas.”
They went out together. Dom managed to haul himself onto the couch, still protectively cupping his balls with one hand. He grabbed the phone.
“She took all the car keys and left me with the kids,” Brian said. “Are you okay?”
“Did she beat the shit out of you, too?” Dom said, still wheezing.
“Nah, she couldn’t, not in front of the kids,” Brian said. “Anyway, I’m pretty sure she’s more mad at you than me, and I’m going to try to keep it that way.”
“Fuck you,” Dom said.
“Sorry, man, I’m not getting my ass divorced over this,” Brian said. “Can we maybe worry about what else is on the agenda instead? Can’t you hear what they’re talking about?”
“You want me to spy on my sister the goddamn Terminator for you?” Dom said. “Fuck off, O’Conner, you can find out same as me.”
“When we both get shot in the back of the head and buried in an unmarked grave?” Brian said.
“Sounds about right,” Dom said.
Once he could walk again without serious fucking pain, he did get up and limp over to the couch by the window to the back porch. Letty and Mia were getting drunk and writing up a long list of all the things Dom and Brian were going to be doing for the next ten years to make up for being assholes who couldn’t keep their hands off each other. Listening in, Dom wasn’t too worried; yeah, he could do babysitting and trips to Paris, fine, whatever they wanted, and then Letty stopped with the vodka bottle in midair halfway above her glass and said abruptly, “Wait a second. Those bastards are going to do this again, aren’t they,” and Dom had a bad feeling about it even before they both marched into the living room and backed him deeper into the couch.
Mia pointed a finger at him. “Are you going to leave Brian alone after this?” she demanded.
Dom didn’t even get five seconds to open his mouth before she decided she had her answer. “Oh my God, Dom!” she yelled, and there would’ve been clawing except Letty grabbed her and hauled her off. “I don’t believe you!” she yelled. “What is this, is this some kind of — do you just need to break everything, you can’t stand any rules or — ”
“Goddammit, Mia!” Dom yelled, standing up. “I’m not doing it to fuck with you, I love the guy!”
They all stopped, Letty and Mia staring at him, and Dom heard what he’d just said and said, “Fuck!” and shoved out the back door. He slammed into the Charger and peeled out, drove halfway across the city in a blind fucking fury at himself and was shoving into park before he even realized that he was in the driveway right behind the goddamn minivan: he’d gone right from Mia yelling at him and driven straight to Brian like he couldn’t help himself. Dom pounded the steering wheel with both fists and yelled, “Fuck!” again, because he couldn’t, and then he got out of the car and went and found Brian in the yard playing tag with Jack while Rachel lay on her playmat kicking her feet in the air.
“Uncle Dom!” Jack squealed and ran at him, into his arms, and Dom swung him up, held him in his arms a moment before carrying him back. Brian stood up as they came back towards him, and Dom pulled him in, a hand around his neck, pressed their foreheads together, his breath coming hard and fast.
“Dom,” Brian said, putting an arm around his waist. “What’s going on?”
“I don’t know,” Dom said. “I have no fucking idea what we’re going to do.”
They let Jack run them around for a couple hours more until he finally ran out of gas and collapsed for a nap right in the grass next to Rachel. They put a shade over him and got beers and sat at on the porch steps, shoulder to shoulder. “I don’t know,” Brian said, low, picking at the label on his bottle without looking at Dom. “I guess — I guess maybe me and Mia take the kids, move somewhere. Maybe back to Spain. Mia liked it there.”
Dom closed his eyes, let his head sag. He’d known it was going to fuck them up — he’d told Brian it was going to fuck them up, and here it was all right, but the worst of it was, he couldn’t even be sorry about it. He couldn’t make himself be sorry he knew Brian’s mouth, knew what it felt like to have Brian’s body under his hands like a thousand horsepower ready to fly down the road. But — fuck, Brian and Mia gone around the world, Jack forgetting his face and Rachel barely knowing who he was, seeing them maybe a couple times at Christmas and Easter. If he got to see them then: if he could trust himself around Brian for even that long, not to want something that felt like it was his, even though it wasn’t.
They heard Mia’s car pull into the driveway around the house, and after a minute she and Letty came out of the house onto the porch behind them. “Mia, baby, I’m sorry,” Brian said, reaching for her hand. She sighed as she sat down behind him and put her arms around his neck and kissed him: she looked like she’d worked her way over to being more resigned than mad. Dom scowled a little: yeah, no fucking baseball bat to the nuts for Brian.
“I swear, the two of you morons,” Letty said, giving Dom’s head a shove as she plunked herself down on the stair behind him. “You didn’t think we’d get it, so your plan was keep your mouths shut and start fucking around behind our backs?”
“We were trying to quit fucking around,” Dom said. “Look, you know goddamn well we love the hell out of both of you, and we’d cut off our arms before we hurt you. So what do you want? You need us to swear we’re not gonna do it again?”
“Oh, please!” Mia said, spark coming back into her eye. “You are going to do it again, and even if you didn’t, I’m still not going to be sitting around every time you’re in the garage together wondering if you are. That is not how this is going to work.”
“No kidding.” Letty folded her arms. “If you’re doing this, we’re doing it. All of us. That’s the deal.”
“Uh,” Brian said. “All of us, like—”
“Yes,” Mia said.
“Christ,” Dom said resignedly.
Mia called a sitter. It was a warm afternoon, sunny; a nice drive in the Thunderbird with the top down, and they went to the spiny beach: a scrap of sand they’d found about twenty minutes down the coast, half an hour’s hike down a hillside covered with thornbush scrub. Dom took turns with Brian trading off the machete, clearing the path down, and they carried all the gear down to the beach. They spread everything out and Mia got three bottles of tequila and a bag of limes out of the cooler.
Ten shots of tequila went a long way to making the whole thing seem like a lot better idea than it was, and then Brian downed his eleventh and said, “Fuck it, let’s do this,” and rolled his shirt off over his head like he was some kind of supermodel. He was pretty enough for it, sweating already and his skin still burned deep gold all over, island blond in his hair. Fuck, he was beautiful: he’d made up for the weight he’d lost on the island by now, and moving around engines and working all day had put back on the muscle. At least looking at him helped Dom stop thinking about getting naked in front of his sister. He yanked off his own shirt.
Letty wolf-whistled them loud and deliberately. “Come on, boys, let’s see the rest of it. I want to compare.”
Mia started snorting over her glass. Dom muttered under his breath and shoved his pants and his boxers off. Brian was grinning at him wide and smug as he shucked his jeans and briefs together. Letty nearly inhaled her tequila and started coughing. Mia leaned over to her and said, “Mine’s bigger,” and busted out giggling so hard she spilled half her shot and had to get another.
Dom glared down at Brian, who was just goddamn smirking as he stretched back out on the blanket and slid a hand over his dick, which was twice the size any guy really needed. “It’s okay, Dom,” he said blandly. “Just the luck of the draw.”
“It’s what you do with it that counts, O’Conner,” Dom said.
Brian got one of the tequila bottles and slugged it back. “So do something,” he said, looking up at him straight on, a challenge. Dom got down and grabbed the bottle of tequila out of Brian’s hand and took another long pull, warm haze settling over his brain, hot sun on his back, and he shoved Brian flat on the blanket and caught his grinning mouth, sliding his hand up Brian’s thigh, gripping hard to feel the muscle under his hand.
They were both breathing hard when they broke off, and Letty was taking her shirt off, shaking her hair loose and unhooking her bra — fuck, those beautiful breasts of hers, and this was starting to feel like the best fucking idea in the history of the universe, Brian’s thigh under his hand, Letty grabbing the suntan oil and pouring it into her hands, rubbing it all over herself —
“You want any help with that?” Dom growled, and Letty smirked at him and said, “Sure,” and turned and gave the bottle to Mia, and Mia was giggling and holy shit, cupping Letty’s breasts in her hands, both of them leaning in and kissing, and Dom winced away, because Christ, this was not the best idea in the world, this was fucked up, and goddamn Brian was just staring at them both with this dreamy glazed look on his face.
“This is seriously all your fucking fault,” Dom said to Brian.
“Shut up, man, this is amazing,” Brian said, and hooked his arm around Dom’s neck and dragged him down, the two of them half kissing and half wrestling, and then Mia and Letty started squirting the suntan oil at them like water pistols and it turned into a hell of a good time, all of them laughing and drunk and all over each other, and he was kissing Letty and kissing Brian, getting to cop a feel off both of them, hands sliding slick and easy everywhere, and then Letty and Mia were rolling on the sheets making out, their legs tangled up and rubbing up against each other. They were still in their shorts, thank God, but then Letty untied Mia’s bikini top while they were kissing and flung it off; Dom had to bat it out of his face, Jesus.
Brian was laughing at him, slinging an arm around his neck and biting at Dom’s jaw, pulling him around to take kisses off his mouth, his other hand sliding down Dom’s chest hot and slippery, his dick pushing sweet and hot against Dom’s thigh, and then the bastard goddamn tried to go for it, hooked Dom’s knee out from under him and took him down to the blankets, sliding up between his legs.
“Nice try, O’Conner,” Dom said, grabbing him by the waist and flipping him over onto his back. Brian managed to twist before Dom could pin him, and levered them up and over again, dumping Dom off the blankets. “Great, fucking sand everywhere, that’s just fucking—” Dom gasped, and Brian was on top of him, kissing him, grinning at him at the same time, yeah, he wasn’t the one getting sandpapered against the beach. Brian rubbed against him like an apology, their dicks sliding together, got a rhythm going, fireworks setting off in Dom’s head, and then he went for it again, tried to press his knee between Dom’s thighs, and oh, that was it. Dom grabbed Brian right under the ass and heaved him bodily up, got him lined right up on his dick, and then he rolled him back over onto the blankets and shoved in fast, a few good hard thrusts and in, Brian gasping out small choked noises as he gave it up.
Dom grinned down at him triumphantly, Brian half grinning back, heavy-lidded the way he always got after a good tussle, and then his eyes suddenly went wide and horrified, and Dom froze. He darted a look over. Yeah, Mia and Letty were still right the fuck there, and they’d stopped making out and were both staring at them—no shit, because he was fucking Brian right in front of them, shit.
Dom looked back down at Brian, who was glaring at him like this was his fucking fault. Dom glared right back at him, you fucking started it, and meanwhile his dick was still fully ready to roll as soon as he let off the emergency brake, and what was he supposed to do now, anyway? He couldn’t exactly take it back, and what were they doing here anyway, this was the whole fucking point, wasn’t it?
“Hope you’re ready for it, O’Conner,” he said. Brian’s eyes got wide with indignation, and he tried to sit up, but Dom slung Brian’s leg over his shoulder and went deep. Brian gave a stifled yelp and fell back, gasping, his legs tightening around Dom’s back helplessly; yeah, he loved getting fucked after a fight, or even better right in the middle of one, and after a few strokes he gave in to it, threw an arm over his face to hide his eyes and fell into the rhythm with him.
This was easy, this was the part that didn’t need thinking about. Brian started making little jerking movements with his hips, already wanting the assist to go over, but Dom didn’t want to be done; he eased off instead, slowed things down, and Brian made a noise under his breath, oh come on! Dom gave it a few breaths and then went back at him, pounded Brian up to the edge again. When he stopped it this time, Brian literally tried to punch him. Dom just barely leaned out of range, keeping his dick all the way in.
Brian fell back gasping. “I swear to God, Dom!”
“Take it easy,” Dom said, patting his thigh but still staying clear of his dick, and Brian snarled something and tried to scrabble up at him again before he had to give up and drop back to the blanket, still pissed off.
“Jesus, Toretto, you’re an asshole,” Letty said, cracking up: she and Mia were both watching now like they couldn’t take their eyes off them. Brian went all red again and glared at Dom, speechless: I’m getting fucked in front of my wife!
“Yeah, here,” Dom said, a little guilty, and handed him the tequila bottle. Brian poured a shot straight into his mouth, messy, gulping it, and fucking beautiful, Christ, so beautiful. He was slicked up all over with suntan oil and sweat, those eyes of his mad as hell and lit up with it, his chest heaving, his gorgeous dick hard against his stomach. Dom leaned in and licked the tequila off him, sucked a swallow out of his mouth, and Brian wavered for a second on biting before he kissed back, long and hard, and let his head fall back, eyes shut.
Dom let him cool off a little longer that time before he got back into it, a slow steady fuck this time, moving with the sound of the ocean. Brian had gone relaxed and heavy, his whole body open for it, maybe even more than Dom had ever gotten him before. He didn’t make a lot of noise, just panted softly until Dom drove him right up to the edge again, something almost like pain in his gasps, and then Brian said, “Mia. Mia, please—” sounding broken up, and Mia crawled over to him, her lip caught between her teeth, and she bent over him, kissing him, her hair falling over his face, and Brian kissed her hard, and went for the button on her shorts.
“O’Conner!” Dom said, strangled.
“Shut up, Dom,” Brian said. He was sliding his hands in, moving them on her, and Mia was sighing, her eyes closing. “Come on, baby, come with me,” Brian said to her, low and tender, easing her shorts off. Dom groaned and shut his eyes and groped for the tequila bottle, because fuck, he wasn’t close to drunk enough for this. But not looking was worse when he heard Mia gasp, and then looking was worse than that, because Brian had her over his face, had his mouth on her, Mia’s head falling back — right in front of him, Jesus, Dad would’ve shot him for this.
Letty came over and slid down on her knees in the sand next to him, leaning against his shoulder and laughing at him, throaty the way she got when she was turned on or mad or both at the same time. “Serves you fucking right, Toretto,” she said, and he tangled his hand in her hair and kissed her, hard and desperate. She squeezed his ass hard and slapped it. “Come on, don’t just sit there.”
Dom groaned and started fucking Brian again, trying to work a hand between Letty’s legs while he did it. It was like driving two cars at the same time: no fucking way, and then Letty shoved his hand out of the way and swung a leg over Brian’s hips, putting herself right over his flushed-up dick. She gave him a look like a dare, and shit, there it was: far as he knew, she’d never wanted to fuck Brian before. And yeah, anybody could’ve wanted to take a ride once they saw what was under his hood, but that wasn’t what this was about: she was still pissed off; worse than that, she was still hurt, he’d fucking hurt her.
That made it easy; he didn’t even have to get over himself. “You’re gonna have to hang in there a little longer, O’Conner,” Dom said, and took Brian’s dick and angled him up, got Letty sliding down on him.
Brian made a muffled oh shit noise, strangled. Letty said, “Oh shit,” a lot louder, her head tipping back a little and her mouth rounding, her eyes shutting a moment. Dom kissed her throat, kissed her again and again, rubbed her back and forth with his thumb and coaxed her hips to move. “Jesus,” she said, a little high-pitched as she slid on further. “Toretto, you ever take this?”
Oh, fuck, he hadn’t had anywhere near enough sympathy for Brian. “A few times,” he said, heat crawling all the way up his face, and then Letty grinned at him, a little viciously, and rolled her hips. Brian made another helpless noise, making Mia squeak.
“Yeah, it’s something,” Letty said, jabbing at him some more, but her breathing was coming hard and she was wet on his fingers, and fuck, he wanted her to have it; he wanted her to have anything she goddamn wanted ever.
He kissed her again and said roughly, “You want to see me take it, I will,” and she bit her lip, her eyes going bright and wet suddenly, her mouth turning down, a tremble, and then she grabbed his head and kissed him, hard.
“Oh, oh,” Mia said suddenly, and laughed out loud, gasping in the middle of it, and Brian groaned deep and tried to move under all of them, frantic. He was about to lose it. Letty shoved Dom’s hand out of the way and got her own fingers working, and Dom grabbed Brian’s thighs and just tried to hold it together, fucked him a little more, shallow thrusts, and then Letty was over the line, shuddering. Dom gave it to Brian a couple more times and they were both done, no idea who went over first, and they all came apart and ended up in a heap, sprawled gasping half on the blankets and half in the sand.
“Wow, holy shit,” Brian said eventually, not too loud, cracking up like he couldn’t believe what they’d just done. He pulled Mia into his arms, kissing her, nuzzling into her cheek, and she was giggling against him.
Dom lay flat on his back, Letty curled up against him with her head on his shoulder. “Christ, this is messed up,” he said peacefully, not really giving a shit. Maybe he’d give one when the tequila wore off and he thought harder about the fact he’d just fucked his wife with his best friend’s dick, but what the hell. He’d been fucking Brian at the time, it didn’t count, or it passed through, or something.
After they got their breath back, they all got up and staggered down to the water and swam for a while just to clean off, playing tag in the water a little. Brian and Mia were all over each other, making out, and Dom felt like he couldn’t keep his hands off Letty either, hungry for her the way he hadn’t been able to be since he’d gotten back, with Brian stuck somewhere in his gut.
The sun started heading down, and they finally got out of the water and built a bonfire, curled up around it to dry off and warm up. The tequila buzz was fading off too. But there was some food in the cooler, and the kids had a sitter for the whole night. Dom didn’t want to go anywhere yet, lying on his side with Letty pillowed on his arm and tucked into the curve of his body, Brian and Mia next to them. They’d all gotten quiet, and Dom said abruptly, “So we’re doing this, huh?”
Nobody answered right away. “Mia,” Brian said softly. “It’s your call, for us. You know it. Whatever you need, I’m there.” She didn’t say anything, gone quiet; they were lying tangled together, and she was stroking her fingers down his cheek. “If you can’t, that’s okay. We’ll—” She pressed her fingers to his mouth and stopped him.
“I don’t know if I can,” she said. “But.” She stopped, and then she said, “I want you to be happy.” She looked over at Dom. “I want you both to be happy.”
“Mia,” Dom said, his throat tight.
“This,” she said, and swallowed. “I know you love each other. I’ve known it all along.”
“Mia,” Brian said, and Dom heard it in his voice, the same fear in his own gut. “You and the kids, it’s not that you come first, there’s not even a race. For both of us. You know that.”
“Yes, I know,” Mia said. “And that’s why you were in that plane in the first place. You quit doing the jobs, and you don’t even go racing anymore, and you drive a minivan because it makes my life easier, and then you quit the flying lessons after the crash, and I guess you also stopped sleeping with Dom, and I’m tired of being someone you give things up for.” She stopped again. Then she said, her voice shaking, “Brian, I’m not taking you away. If I go, I’m taking the kids.”
“Mia,” Brian said, his voice cracking with terror, and Dom lay cold as if somebody was shoving an iron bar through his guts, trying not to grip Letty too tight. That couldn’t be something he took from Brian; if that was Mia’s line, he could swear to her in a second; he could promise her he’d never touch Brian again, never even want to. Except that wasn’t going to be good enough; she didn’t want that promise.
“But I don’t want to go. I want to try,” Mia said, and she was crying. “I love you, I love all of you, and I want to try, because I don’t want to go.”
Brian had his forehead pressed against hers, stroking her hair. “Okay,” he said, raw. “Okay. Mia, I’m sorry.”
“I know,” she said. “I know.”
Dom shut his eyes. “Letty?”
Letty didn’t say anything, and then her mouth curved against his arm, a pure-evil smirk, and she said, “I’m up for doing it at least once more,” meaningfully. Dom groaned. Him and his goddamn big mouth. She patted his hand on her waist. “Yeah, payback’s a bitch, Toretto.”
Mia gave a choked, watery kind of laugh, and then they were all laughing, a little high, a little hysterical, but at least they were laughing instead of crying. Dom pulled Letty against him and shifted over, moved them. Brian and Mia scooted to meet them, Brian stretching out at his side with Mia curled on him, and Dom put his arm around them and kissed Mia’s forehead, kissed Brian’s mouth and Letty’s mouth, held them all close, while the fire crackled low.
Chapter 2: Consequences
“Shit,” Letty said from the bathroom, not that loud.
“You ok?” Dom said, yawning, rolling over in the bed. He heard her toss something hard into the trash can, then she came out and stood at the side of the bed, hands on her hips, glaring down at him like she was pissed off about something. “What?”
“You remember that problem we’ve been having?” she said. “Now we have a different one.”
“Which problem?” Dom said, still groggy, and then he got exactly which problem she meant and sat up fast, reaching out for her, and then she just glared at him even harder and the second half of her sentence sank in, and Jesus fucking Christ. He stared at her, his hands still on her arms, and what the fuck was there to say? “It’s not a problem,” he said.
“The fuck it’s not a problem!” Letty said.
“Listen, I don’t care,” he said, trying to pull her into his arms, but she shoved him back.
“Maybe I care!” she said. “I’m not the one of us with a fucking hard-on for O’Conner.”
Didn’t mind his hard-on any the last time I checked. The words jumped right into his mouth, but Dom managed to swallow them. Letty would’ve clocked him for them anyway. “Letty, you telling me you’re not going to love this kid?” he said. “You think I’m not gonna love them?”
Letty rolled her eyes. “I guess you already think O’Conner’s kids are yours, what’s one more?” she said, and jerked out of his grip and went downstairs. Dom put his head in his hands and tried to figure out what he was even feeling, because fuck if he knew. What did it even mean? That he couldn’t—? Because, shit, apparently Letty could, just fine, with somebody else. With Brian.
“And you’re telling your sister!” Letty yelled up from downstairs, and Dom fell back in the bed and muttered, “Shit.”
He parked in the driveway at Mia and Brian’s house and sat in the car a while, trying to get up the nerve to go in and tell them. He didn’t have a goddamn idea how they were going to feel about it. He sat in the car until there was a banging on the door of the car and he looked out over the edge to find Jack there beaming up at him with his sand pail and shovel. “Uncle Dommmm!” He held up his arms.
“Yeah, kiddo,” Dom said, and reached down to swing him up and in through the window. He got out and carried Jack back to the house, getting a report on the new tires Brian had got to put on the Thunderbird, and how Jack had made the car go up in the air all by himself with the jack, which was a great joke that got told three more times between the driveway and the front door, and then they were inside and Mia was coming to hug him.
“Uh,” he said, when Brian asked what had brought him, and thank God, right then Mia handed him a beer, so he could drink the whole thing off before he had to talk. But they were both staring at him by the time he was done and there wasn’t anything else to do but just say it. “Letty’s pregnant,” he said.
“Dom!” Mia cried, and hugged him, beaming, and Brian caught his arm, both of them right with him, so fucking happy for him, and goddammit, he wanted this; he wanted to be telling them what they thought he was saying, he wanted to be in their arms, laughter busting out of his chest, glad right along with them, and it hurt worse than all the rest of it to have to say, “Mia,” and stop her, stop both of them, see them looking at him and getting it, that there was something wrong, before he took the breath and said, “We’ve been trying for a couple of years.”
“Oh man, Dom, that’s,” Brian said, and then his face got a look on it Dom had only ever seen right before he’d driven them both straight through the wall of a hundred-story-building.
Then Mia said, “Wait, are you telling me you care?”
They both stared at her, and she stared back, and then she started to rev up and Dom barely kept from backing away. She stabbed a finger into Dom’s chest. “You wanted—this! And you have the fucking nerve to be mad now?”
“I thought you’d be mad!” Dom said.
“Did you think I didn’t notice Letty having sex with my husband right in front of me?” Mia said. “I know you’ve been trying, I know she’s not on the pill!”
“How the hell do you know?” Dom said.
“What? We talk sometimes!” Mia said. “We talked for four months when we thought you were both dead and she didn’t even have a child of yours—!” She stopped and said, “Oh my God, Letty,” and turned and went for the phone, and in a minute Dom heard her from the other room, talking to Letty, and he blew out a breath and looked at Brian, who was still stuck midair between skyscrapers, and said, “I need another beer.”
“No shit,” Brian said after a moment, blankly, and he went and brought six bottles back from the fridge.
“Are you okay with it?” Brian blurted, without looking up, while he was picking the label off the last empty Corona bottle. Mia and Letty were still talking, somehow. What they fuck they were finding to say for the better part of an hour Dom had no clue; he couldn’t find anything to say.
“Of course I’m okay with it,” Dom said, but goddammit, he’d never been a good liar and now was a bad time to be trying to start.
Brian slumped back in his chair and muttered, “Shit.”
“I am okay with it,” Dom said, pissed off at himself. “Letty’s my wife, we’re going to have a kid, I’m better than okay with it. It’s the best news I’ve had since we got off that fucking island,” and then Mia came in from the other room, looking determined, and she said, “We’re moving in together.”
“We’re not selling the house!” Dom said.
“It’s not big enough!” Mia said.
Dom ended up slamming out into the backyard because he couldn’t make Mia keep fighting him on it. She didn’t want to sell it any more than he did, but it wasn’t big enough: not for the four of them and three kids: that was why she and Brian had even moved out in the first place. He knew it, but fuck, giving up the house—it wasn’t more important than the people in it, wasn’t anything close, but it was the house his parents had scrimped and fought and struggled to pay for, the house they’d almost been free and clear on when his dad had died, only five mortgage payments left to go. Dom had written the last check out of the insurance money he hadn’t wanted, like watering the foundations with his father’s blood to make it theirs.
There wasn’t another house in the world that was ever going to be his the way this one was; no house they could find that would belong to him the same way, and soon as he had that thought the other one crawled in, the goddamn slimy worm thought: the kid wasn’t going to be his, either.
He sat down on the hood of the Charger and shoved his fists against his eyes. What the fuck had he been thinking, anyway, with Brian and Mia popping kids out every five minutes not even trying. Brian had knocked Mia up in less than two weeks that first time, somewhere on that long run from Mexico to Rio where they’d barely had time to sleep or eat. Five minutes after Jack had quit nursing, here came Rachel. And now he’d knocked up Letty in what, three tries? O’Conner and his fucking magical cock, and Dom had been just about ready to pat himself on the back for not minding that Letty liked to take a ride on it once in a while, because fine, he did too, but bullshit that he didn’t mind about this.
But he had to be okay with it now, because it wasn’t Letty’s fault or the kid’s fault or Brian’s fault. Fuck, it had probably happened that first time when he’d put Brian’s dick into her with his own hand, and there was something seriously fucked up that he could remember that and be turned on and pissed off about it at the same time.
They’d been giving the whole crazy thing a shot for maybe a month now — most times at the house, putting the kids to bed and then putting themselves in the living room with all the blinds closed and a few bottles of booze to loosen up with, seeing how it went, and so far it had gone pretty fucking great. Christ, just two nights ago they’d made it upstairs in the master bedroom for the first time, all of them cracking up like they were getting away with something. They’d all slept in there together, a little crowded but still the best fucking feeling in the world, waking up with Brian’s head on his shoulder and Letty in his arms, Mia snuggled up to Brian’s other side. And yeah, Dom knew he should’ve thought about what was going to happen, but you couldn’t think about shit like this; you had to just do it, or the whole thing started to come apart at the seams.
Christ, he’d let Brian fuck him in front of Letty, goddamn taken a cock up his ass like a prison bitch while she watched, and he’d loved every fucking minute as long as he didn’t think about it. Him lying there on his stomach groaning and sweating with Brian working to get it into him, Mia with her head buried against Brian’s back too embarrassed to watch but giggling anyway, Brian turning to kiss her when he needed to take a break to keep from coming, and Letty sprawled next to him lazily watching it all happen, whispering in his ear about how much further Brian had to go, biting him when she got hot and worked up about it. Afterwards Dom had pulled Letty under him and she’d been soaking wet; they’d come twice, banging their brains out with Brian and Mia making it next to them, and it had been maybe the best sex he’d ever had in his life. But what the fuck was that even about? Letty getting off on seeing him get fucked, by the guy who’d knocked her up? That should’ve been a murder trial, not a good time, so what the fuck did it mean if he loved it? Thinking about any part of it was the last fucking thing he wanted to do.
So he hadn’t thought about it, and now his kid was going to be Brian’s kid, and Jack and Rachel were going to be his kid’s brother and sister and not just cousins, and if Letty and Mia wanted them all under one roof, he couldn’t fight them on it. Yesterday, he wouldn’t have wanted to. Yesterday this would have been the best idea in the world: make it official that the four of them were all in it together for the long haul; make it official that they were all right again, they were good. Now who the fuck knew what they were.
He stood up and got the creeper and hauled himself under the car. Maybe three or four hours went by; nobody was bothering him or coming out of the house, and then he heard Brian’s footsteps and Brian crouched down next to his feet. “Hey,” Brian said, and slapped his leg with a folded piece of paper.
Dom pulled himself out. “Yeah?” he said shortly.
“Hope you’re up for some renovating,” Brian said, and handed him the paper: it was a single page contract written out by hand, plain and simple: three million dollars in cash for 1325 Kensington, the place next door, Brian’s name scrawled across the bottom and old Mrs. Leary’s next to him.
“What the hell?” Dom said.
“She was thinking about moving in with her daughter anyway,” Brian said. “What do you think? Combine them, or knock down the other one and build this one out? We’ll need both the garages for sure.”
“Yeah, all right,” Dom said, swallowing, and then he reached out and grabbed Brian and pulled him in and kissed him, hard. Brian put his arms around him, held him, and when they broke off Brian said, “Want to fuck me?”
“Hell, yes,” Dom said.
They ended up in the back seat, Brian flat on his stomach gasping as Dom pounded him, moaning, saying, “Yes, fuck, Dom, yeah, come on, own me, do it.” He came before Dom even reached around, messy smear all over the seats that Dom would’ve been pissed over any other time, but right now it just made him grab Brian’s hips with both his hands and give it to him more, harder, Brian going all sweet and soft and relaxed under him.
Dom felt a whole lot better afterwards. Brian was slumped down, head on his folded arms, still gulping for breath. His ass and his thighs were slick all over, the seat was wet, and Dom shoved a couple of fingers back into him and fucked Brian with them a little more, working another whine out of him. “Fuck, Toretto,” Brian said, his hips shifting, squirming under it, “are you trying to knock me up,” and Dom grabbed his own dick and jerked himself hard again, so what if he was sensitive as hell, and he got back on Brian and fucked right into him again.
“Oh, Jesus,” Brian said, his voice going high, and then he got into it, shoving back against him. “Yeah, come on, Toretto, come on, make me give it all the way up, go ahead, fucking knock me up,” and his voice squeaked a little on it, like he halfway really meant it, like he really would’ve given it up that hard, and it freaked him out, and Dom shoved as deep as he could and came so fucking hard he saw stars.
“Holy shit,” Brian said afterwards, a little shaky.
“Yeah,” Dom said. He kissed the back of Brian’s neck and got off him, sliding a hand over Brian’s ass after, rubbing his thumb through the slick and making Brian shiver all over again. Yeah, he felt fucking fantastic, and he’d been right the first time: screw thinking about any of it. Brian and Mia were moving in, and he was going to be a dad, and they were going to have the most fantastic kids in the whole world, all three of them. Or more, no need to quit now: maybe four or five or even six of them, if Mia and Letty were up for it. With all of them to run herd on the kids, no reason not to put together a racing team of their own.
“All right, come on, O’Conner, let’s clean up this goddamn mess you made,” Dom said.
“Oh, I made,” Brian said, not even moving.
Dom smacked him on the ass. “Yeah, I’ll give you an assist,” he said. “Come on, I want to get down to the stores, get Letty a big-ass ring or something. We forgot to get one the last time, means I can do it for this.”