| Chapter 12 "That's 1 million, 710 thousand, dawg" DeShaun announced, looking up from the pad he'd just written and worked out the sum on. Nods all around supported this. Ginger sighed inwardly and rubbed a hand over his head. They were still too short. WAY too short. "A'ight. Pack this shit up. I'ma go see wot I can do about dis" Ginger decided, putting back the money he was holding. There were no complaints as the team began packing the money back into the boxes it was being kept in. Kaylen tried to force her hands to stop shaking, but soon found it impossible. The notes she was holding slipped from her hands and spread across the floor. "Shit" she whispered, and knelt to pick it back up quickly. Ginger got up and took her hips gently. Kaylen flinched noticably, and choked back a soft sob. "I'm sorry, Ginger" Kaylen apologised, rushing to pick up the money, "I...I'm just...I..". She broke down and started to cry. Heaving sobs that clawed at her stomach, but at the same time relieved some of the pent up fear and frustration she'd been habouring. Ginger pulled her gently against himself and she turned to cry against her brother's shoulder as kissed the top of her head. "It's a'ight, babygurl" he whispered, rubbing her shoulders softly, "I know yer scared. We all are. But I won't let 'im hurt you, a'ight? I won't let anyone hurt you". Kaylen trembled softly, slowly regaining control and quietening her tears. DeShaun took Lizette's hand and gave it a squeeze. She smiled bravely. Jessi-Jay kept her feelings inside for the time being. Her older brother didn't need any more shit to deal with than he already had. "I'm sorry" Kaylen said sitting back after a long moment of silence. Ginger wiped the tears from her cheeks and smiled, "No harm, no foul". Kaylen nodded with a faint smile, and finished picking up the money off the floor. Ginger stood and headed upstairs to attend to business. He grabbed Latrell's laptop from on top of the drawers and sat on the floor with his back against the bed before openning it and turning it on. He pulled the phone plug from the wall, replacing it with the internet connection lead to the laptop. He began the connection and was rewarded with those little buzzing sounds that were meant to be ring tones. Once online, he quickly opened Latrell's email account, and clicked on the folder titled 'Ginger'. Sixteen emails. Fifteen he'd read already in his previous dealings while in Los Angeles. The last one, which had only arrived this morning, was labelled '$490,000', and was from Simon Li. One of the Asian twins. The one with the tattoo. Ginger clicked on the email and it took mere seconds to open. He scanned it quickly. "Call me by 11:00am. We will make some arrangements". Ginger pulled his cell phone from his pocket and called his cousin. "Yah?" Latrell's voice was loud and lary, as per usual. "Man, it's Ginger. Call the twins. Tell 'em I'll be there with the H. Same place, same time. That work for you?" Ginger replied, cutting straight to the chase. $490 thousand would even out their total to 2.2 million. Now they were getting close. "Uuuuuh, yeh, that's a'ight wit me. This drop for the 490?" Latrell replied after a long moment. "Yeh" Ginger responded simply. There were a few other voices in the background on Latrell's end, none of which were rcognisable to Ginger. It didn't matter though. Yesterday was fun. Today was strictly business. It had taken almost an hour to clear out the party last night, even with the combined efforts of both Ginger's and Dom's teams. Once those people got partying they just didn't want to stop. They'd been going full bore for twelve, almost thirteen hours by the time they'd left. Ginger was sure that most of them, Mia included, would be feeling the effects of it today. He was confused by Mia getting shit-faced last night. He hadn't picked her out as a booze hound at first glance. She seemed too smart for that. Too down-to-earth and sensible. Obviously he was mistaken. Dom had carried her out to the car last night because they couldn't wake her up enough for her to walk on her own. Ginger had spent hours last night trying to figure her out, until sleep finally crept up and claimed him. "OK. Let me give 'em a call, then I'll get back atcha" Latrell said finally. Ginger nodded, even though his cousin couldn't see him, "A'ight. One". Latrell barely replied before he hung up. Time wasn't something Ginger had the luxury of wasting. This deal was crucial. There could be no fucking around. Ginger closed the email and went to 'compose'. He typed in an address he was none too fond of, then proceeded to write the message. His fingers flew over the keys from years of practice, and the email was soon complete. Ginger read over it quickly. "It's Thursday & I'm about to make a .5 mill pick up. That brings the total to $2,200,000. I'll have your money by Sunday". He clicked on send, satisfied with the short and sweet message. He had nothing more to say other than stating the facts. He closed the message that came up and shut the window that had held the email account. His cell phone began its insistent bleating, and he connected the call. "Talk to me" Ginger said wihtout checking the number, guessing it was Latrell. "I just got your email". He'd guessed wrong. "Yeah. Thought you'd want a stat check" Ginger replied, again keeping to the facts. He had no desire to appear friendly or even pleased to hear his voice. "2.2 mill already. You're a fast worker". "I am when my family's involved" Ginger replied coldly. He was met with a cruel chuckle. "Yes, that little pscho-fuck-family you've got goin' on there. It's quite adorable, really". Ginger scowled, again met with the urge to hang up or hurl the phone at the wall. He did not want to be talking to this particular person now, or ever. "I'm waitin' on a call. One" he said quickly, then hung up. He had no desire to be talking with him before Sunday. And the way he acted liked he was still a friend, like everything was still OK between them, that got right beneath Ginger's skin and burned like hot coals until he was ready to explode. The phone began bleating again. He looked at the screen before answering. It was Latrell. "We good to go?" he asked after connecting the call, wasting no time with petty chit-chat. "We are. I got my boys loadin' up the Hummer right now. It'll be ready by the time you get here" Latrell answered, and Ginger smiled tightly. "That's wot I wanna hear. I'll be there in ten. And... thanks for this, Trell. Where would I be without you, dawg?" Ginger sighed, shutting down the laptop. "All by yo motherfuckin' self" Latrell answered, knowing that was his cousin's own response to that question. "Fuckin' right. I'ma get movin'. One" Ginger allowed himself a smile at his cousin's anticipated reply. He waited for Latrell's response this time, then hung up and put the phone back in his pocket. Ginger left the laptop on the floor and stood up. He dragged on his timbalands, stuck his Desert Eagle into the waistband of his pants, then headed downstairs. "Yo, D. We gotta go get some shit from Latrell for da twins. Let's go" Ginger announced, snatching his car keys up off the bench. DeShaun picked himself up off the couch and followed as Ginger headed for the door. "You want me to stay wit the girls?" Nueto asked as he turned towards the back of the armchair he was in to look at them. Ginger glanced back at him, "Yeah. Might as well get started on the clean up. Me an' D'll help when we get back". Nueto nodded and he and the girls picked up the boxes, taking them back upstairs. DeShaun and Ginger exited the pool area through the gate and got in the Mitsubishi. "This is kinda sudden" DeShaun commented as Ginger pulled out of the hotel carpark. He turned on the stereo and was rewarded with WuTang. "Yeah. The twins have 490 G's to blow, an' they're doin' it today, so we couldn't exactly sit 'round an' have a debate about it while they found another dealer" Ginger explained dryly, pulling a sharp right that made the Pirelli tyres squeal. "Wot's wrong, man?" DeShaun asked, having almost whacked his head on the window at the abrupt change of direction. "Nothin'" Ginger replied, speeding up to make it across an intersection before the light turned red. He skimmed past the front bumpers of a Corolla and a Camry. Ugly stock cars. How anyone could take pride in driving something like that, he had no fucking idea. "Yes there is" DeShaun insisted, "You trippin'. It's pretty fuckin' obvious. You jus' about ran down a granny back there". "I did not" Ginger answered, this time taking a sharp left. DeShaun clung to the armrest on the door to keep from sprawling over the gearstick. "Fuck that man, you trippin'! Tell me wot's up" he pushed, not wanting to meet his end in a street racer that got smooshed up against the back of a truck because Ginger was driving like a fucking loon. "He called" Ginger gave in, shooting in front of another car on a round-about and earning himself an angrily blaring horn, "That motherfucker called". "Wot'd he say?" DeShaun asked, understanding his friend's rage now that he knew the circumstances. "Not much. Jus' friendly shit. Tryin'a get to me. It's fuckin' workin' too" Ginger replied, swerving around some idiot trying to cross the road in front of him. If Ginger had have hit the dumb fucker it would've been their own stupid fault for trying to jaywalk in front of him. He was not in the mood for being lenient. "I can see that" DeShaun muttered, greatful when they finally came up outside Latrell's pad. The yellow Hummer was sitting on the driveway, and Ginger moved skillfully around it, parking just short of the garage door. He killed the engine and sat for a moment. Just breathing. Forcing himself to calm down. This is exactly what that motherfucker wanted. He wanted to get Ginger worked up and stressed. He was messing with him, and Ginger was stepping right on in to all the traps. "Yo, Ginge. You better hurry, man. You got ten minutes to get yo asses down there. The twins don't like tardiness" Latrell called from the front door. Ginger climbed out of the Mitsubishi, waited till DeShaun had followed suit, then locked it. The two of them clambered into the Hummer and Ginger started her up with the keys that were already in the ignition. "Hey, don't you be drivin' my car angry!" Latrell shouted from where he was still standing at the front door, "You scratch it you buy it! An' it's worth more than your heap of shit!". Ginger casually gave him a one finger salute, then pulled out of the driveway, a new calmness found in the progress they were making. His cousin Latrell had helped him alot with this operation. The process was simple, yet fairly safe and fool-proof. He had a contact in China, named Jet or Ska or something like that, who exported herion to him through some complicated system that had never been infilterated or even looked into by the police as of yet. Once Latrell had the product, he and his team purified it to a point of perfection, and then it was Ginger's turn. He went online and sought out buyers and distributers on different auction/sale sites that he knew held those kind of cutomers from experience. There was no street involvement or having to look out for the police, which made that part of his job alot safer. Once the buyer was found, Ginger took the product from Latrell to that lucky little shit, and because of the risks involved with being on the streets, dealing with the customer face to face, and being vulnerable to 'possession with intent to distribute' charges if he happened to be caught, Gigner got two thirds of the profit, and Latrell got the rest. Ginger had worked on this system before with various other people, and he hadn't been caught out once. "Ready to make some dollars, dawg?" DeShaun asked, looking across at Ginger as they cruised through the hot Los Angeles streets. Ginger winked at him and turned on the stereo, his concerns forgotten for the time being Chapter 13 "Simon" Ginger grinned, pointing at the twin he could now identify by the tattooed dragon on the back of his neck. The Asian nodded once, slowly, to indicate he was correct. Ginger kept up a proud smile. He supposed telling the twins apart meant so much to him because his old man had been a twin. No one could ever tell him and his brother apart. Ginger knew which was his Dad though. Even when he was a kid. His uncle Jaliyl would try to confuse him, but he'd always know his old man. Tyson, Simon, they were both here, as arranged. It was just the two of them though. The two of them, and two skanky little ho's sitting off to the side of the empty warehouse. They wore fishnet and fake snake-skin, which made them look like the twins had picked them up a brothel or something. "A'ight boys, I want this done quick. Shit's in the truck. Money's in the case" Ginger announced, eyeing the silvery chrome briefcase Tyson held. It looked heavy, and from the whiteness of his knuckles, Ginger would say it wasn't exactly feather-light. "I like your speed" Simon commented, motioning for Tyson to give the case to DeShaun, "It's a shame you're leaving". "Latrell tell you that?" Ginger asked as the two of them headed to the Hummer to unload the heroin. "No. Not Latrell. Tyson made a deal with someone we hadn't tried before from Hillside. He said he knew you. Said you two had a deal going down soon, then you'd be leaving" Simon replied, heaving a box out of the back of the truck, "Sunday, I think he said". Ginger stood still and stared, "Who told you that? What was his name?". Simon handed him two boxes, because it didn't look like Ginger's brain was functioning fast enough for him to grab any boxes for himself. "Uuuuhhh, I don't remember. I didn't talk to him" Simon answered, picking up three boxes and leading the way over to a shiny black ute with the top cover pealed back so that they could load the boxes into the tray. Ginger dumped the boxes down, then followed Simon back to the Hummer. "He black? Bit older than me. Bit taller, short hair, goatee?" he asked, describing whom he thought Simon was talking about due to an almost painful gut feeling. Simon looked over to his brother, who was helping DeShaun count the money quickly. He called out something in Asian, and Tyson looked up. They exchanged words in their native tongue. "Yeh, that's what he looked like" Simon shrugged, grabbing some more boxes, unconcerned by Ginger's persistance in finding out who this guy was. Ginger knew. He knew in the pit of his stomach who they were talking about. "Wot woz his name?" Ginger called to Tyson. DeShaun looked back at Ginger with confusion etched into his every move. Ginger ignored it. This was important. He had to know if it was that motherfucker who had been talking about him. He had to warn the twins off him, for their own damn safety, if nothing else. He had to be sure. And the name that Tyson finally came up with made his blood freeze in his veins. "Stratt". * * * Nueto watched the girls outside, talking amongst themselves, sitting by the pool. He had a feeling they weren't really in the mood for swimming or having fun, and with the situation they had all found themselves in as of late, he was not surprised. Nueto wasn't going to lie, he liked Toretto. He liked his team. He liked Hector and Edwin. He liked most every single person he'd come in contact with while here in Los Angeles. He knew leaving them all behind on Sunday, never to see them again, was going to be difficult, at best. Nueto wished he'd taken Ginger's advice and stayed away from them. Not let himself become friends or create bonds with anyone here. But it seemed Ginger was having quite a bit of a struggle of his own with that particular rule. And the Toretto's; their team, their friends; they were all so intoxicating. He'd been drawn into their fierce and frenzied world of street cars and illegal racing much more willingly than he should have been. But he couldn't even try to force himself to regret it. He didn't. He didn't regret coming here. He didn't regret meeting them. But he knew he would regret leaving when Sunday rolled around. They HAD TO leave, though. Ginger hadn't been lying or even exaggerating when he'd said that creating bonds with these people would endanger not only themselves, but those to whom they became attatched. And that was not what he wanted. Ginger and his sisters, the only family he'd known since his parents split and abandoned him, their only child, meant alot to him. More than they would ever know. To think someone would want to hurt them, for whatever reason, was absolutely unthinkable. He would go to the brink of insanity and back to ensure they were safe from harm. The phone ringing loudly snapped his attention back into the present, and he blinked away the fog of his thoughts. He put down the bag he'd been collecting empty beer bottles in and moved to answer it. "Yeah?" he asked, leaning on the bench and wiping the back of his hand across his forehead. That was one of the things he liked about L.A. The heat. It reminded him of Mexico. Home. "Uh, Nueto... Am I right?". It was Mia. "Yeah, gurl. That'd be me. You lookin' fo' Ginger or somethin', coz he ain't here right now?" Nueto replied with a faint smile. It seemed Ginger had made stronger bonds than anyone, when it was Ginger himself who had warned against them. "Oh, no, I'm not looking for him. I mean, I... it doesn't really matter who I talk to.." she stumbled over an explination, her hangover not helping any. "It's OK, Mia. What did you want?" Nueto saved her from embarrassing herself any further. Mia let out a short breath. "Right. Uh, we're having a kinda... a family barbeque tomorrow and we were just wondering if you guys wanted to join us because we'd love for you to be there?" Mia asked. Nueto looked out at the girls, thought vaguely about what Ginger might say, then shrugged. "Yeah. Sure we'll come" he responded with a smile, even though she couldn't see him. "Uh, great" Mia smiled, "Good. That's good". She stopped, not knowing what to say. Only hoping that the pounding headache she had today would be gone by tomorrow. She couldn't believe she got so shitfaced last night! Ginger must think she was a fucking drunk! That couldn't be too attractive now, could it? "Yeah. You want us to bring anything?" Nueto answered, rubbing the back of his neck. Mia's rings clicked on the plastic casing of the phone as she called out the question to Dom and Letty, who were cuddling and talking on the porch. "BEER!!" came Leon and Vince's bellowed voices from where they were playing 'Need For Speed III' in the lounge. More shouts followed, as Leon elbowed Vince, causing his car to run into a wall and be caught by the cops. Nueto smiled. Kaylen and Lizette had developed quite a liking for those two in particular. Mia laughed as she took her hand off the phone, "The boys say beer, but really, you don't have to bring anything but yourselves. Trust me, we went shopping this morning, we've got stockpiles of food waiting already". "A'ight gurl. Is twelve OK?" Nueto smiled. He really did like these people. Ginger would probably be pissed off at him for accepting the invitation, but Nueto didn't really want to think about that right now. Hell, once they got there, Ginger'd be too busy putting his charms to good use on Mia to care about not making bonds. "Twelve's fine. I 'spose you know where we live. We'll see you tomorrow" Mia replied, running her fingers through a knot in her hair, leftover from the hectic and hungover morning she'd had. "Yeah, I know where it is. A'ight. Adios" Nueto replied, and hung up. He was just going outside to tell the girls of their new plans for Friday, when the Mitsubishi Eclipse came screaming into the carpark. The way Ginger drove that thing, he was gonna need a new set of tyres very very soon. Ginger and DeShaun climbed out of the car, DeShaun holding a metal breifcase. The girls jumped up from their little pow-wow by the pool as they came through the gate. "A'ight peeps, that's 2.2 mill. We're goin' a'ight" DeShaun announced with a proud smile plastered on his face. Lizette flung herself at her brother and hugged him tightly. She trusted him to keep her safe. Ginger promised he wouldn't let Stratt hurt her. Wouldn't let him hurt any of them. And that was why the operation had come around in the first place. "Uh, Mia called, Ginge'" Nueto said from the doorway, where he was stood. Ginger looked over at him at the mention of her name. Lizette let him go and ran back to her sisters to begin discussing clothes for tomorrow. "Uh, why?" he tried to sound only vaguely interested, but inside, he knew he was just dying to know what she had called about. Was it bad? Good? Hell, anything coming from Mia was pretty fucking good, in his honest opinion. "She invited us to a barbeque at their place tomorrow. I, uh, told her we'd go" Nueto replied, digging his hands in his pockets, unsure of what Ginger's reaction would be. He hoped strongly that he wouldn't be mad. Nueto couldn't stand Ginger being mad at him. Nueto had been seven when his parents split up. His father had been cheating with a girl ten years his junior, and his mother had plans to move to Vegas with the guy who worked in the cabana down the road. Neither of them wanted or even gave a shit about what happened to him. He'd been placed in foster care and bounced around between eight different homes over ten years. When he was sixteen, he was placed in a home with two other latino kids, under the care of an abusive drunk and his submissive wife who was more timid than a damn feild mouse and didn't say shit all to anyone. After three of the scariest fucking months of his life, Nueto had grown too tired and too afraid of the beatings his foster father reguarly dished out, and ran away. He'd been looking for work at the garage Ginger worked at for his uncle Jaliyl, and they'd instantly become friends. Ginger, who was two years older than Nueto, looked out for him and got his Moms to let him stay at their place. Nueto had later been intoduced to Ginger's life long friend DeShaun, and his three younger sisters. And they had become his family. Ginger took a deep breath, considering his next words carefully. He wanted to go. He really did. And by the looks he was getting from the rest of the team, so did they. "A'ight" he nodded once, "That's cool. We'll go. We can handle this. We're all mature adults. We can keep in control of this situation. We'll be nice, but we won't make any bonds, agreed?". The others nodded. Agreed. Easier said than done. Chapter 14 When Ginger and his team arrived at the Toretto's, the cooking was already under way. Dom manned the barbeque, marinating chicken while talking to Leon, who stood to his left with a Corona glued to his hand. Vince was being helpful and giving Mia a hand by carting things out from the kitchen to the table on the lawn in the sun. "Aaay!" Letty grinned, nodding at the girls, whom she'd become quite attatched to at the party. They weren't at all as snobby or skanky as she'd first thought them. They were certainly growing on her, just as she was growing on each of them. DeShaun heaved a block of Corona's over to the table and set it down on the ground. Vince grinned, "Couldn't have a barbeque without booz, now, could we?". DeShaun smiled back, "Fuckin' right". The two of them went inside to continue with the carting in and out of various things to be placed on the weathered picnic table. "Ginger" Dom called, "Grab a beer. Make yerself at home". Ginger accepted, grabbing a Corona, then headed back over to the barbeque. Leon had quite quickly made his way over to Lizette, and they were now sitting on the back porch, talking about the car Leon was detailing, his arm draped around her shoulders, her fingertips tracing light circles on his thigh. Kaylen and Jessi-Jay played ball on the driveway with Letty, using the hoop that was screwed to the wall above the garage door. "Thanks for havin' us over an' shit" Ginger offered, watching Dom brush marinaide on the chicken he had on the converted oil-drum barbeque. "That's cool. We haven't had one of these in a long time. The team really wanted you guys to be here, and, well, so did I" Dom shrugged, as though it was no big deal. It meant alot to Ginger though. Family was something he hadn't really known as a child. His old man had worked two jobs just to keep them living, and he barely ever saw him at all. His mother, she worked alot too. Sixteen hour days. She would work for hours on end in some shitty little job that only paid a few dollars an hour, leaving Ginger to look after his three little sisters until one of his parents returned home. And then, his father was killed. And everything plummeted downhill. It was better than DeShaun or Nueto's childhood though. DeShaun had lived only a few houses down the street from Ginger's family. He had two older brothers and two older sisters. One brother and one sister were in prison. The other sister was a hooker on Hollywood Boulevard. The remaining brother ran away from home. Their father had left right after his mother fell pregnant with DeShaun, so he never knew his old man. His mother was a crack whore. Didn't give a shit what happened to her kids, as long as she had that shit running through her veins. Ginger had lost count of the times DeShaun had stayed over his house, sometimes for days on end, just to have something stable. Just for regular home cooked meals. And then DeShaun's mom had died. About six months before Ginger's old man was killed. DeShaun had been sixteen. Ginger didn't even think DeShaun was upset when it happened. He didn't say anything. Didn't let on that it hurt. Didn't even cry. "Hey, you with me?" Dom asked with a self-amused smirk. Ginger blinked, then focussed, using Dom's voice to anchor himself to the present. "Um... wot?" he asked, having missed anything in between now and when Dom had been talking about not having had a barbeque in a long time. "Shit" Dom laughed, turning some chicken pieces with the tongs he'd produced from somewhere, "You always do that? Just.. run away with the fairies?". "I dunno" Ginger shrugged it off, "I jus' zone out sometimes. Retreat, y'know? Get lost in thought". Dom nodded, understanding. He did that sometimes. Usually when he was thinking about his dad. And, lately, when thinking about Jesse. "Mia! I need a plate! The chicken's ready!" Dom called over his shoulder, towards the house. Usually, Vince would have jumped up and gotten one to save Mia the trouble, trusting in some good old chivalry, but not today. He was too engulfed in his conversation with Kaylen to even notice Dom had spoken. They were sitting at one end of the picnic table, his hand on her thigh and her hand over his. Kaylen had been replaced in the game of basketball by Nueto and DeShaun. So now it was the two boys against Letty and Jessi-Jay. And Ginger was sad to say the guys were getting their asses kicked. "Coming" Mia called, and Ginger smiled, already having missed her angelic voice. She came down the porch steps wearing a floaty white skirt that brushed her calves just below the knees as she walked, and a pale pink peasant top that sat off her bronze shoulders. The pale colours made her skin look even more olive and even more beautiful. He long dark hair was pulled into a quick ponytail with a few strands escaping to frame her face, and the whole outfit was finished with her silver hoop earrings and a few pink flowers pinned against her hair-tie. "Hey Mia" Ginger smiled, finaly finding his voice as she handed the plate to Dom. Mia smiled warmly, moving to his side, and kissed his cheek. "Hi" she grinned, feeling no fear or embarrassment today. Ginger was shocked, to say the least. "What was that for?" he asked, surprised, but certainly extremely happy about this new development. "For putting me to bed the other night. I didn't mean to get so shitfaced. Must've looked like a fool" Mia smiled at her own actions, and Ginger admired that she didn't fret over every single foot put wrong. "That's alright. It was pretty wild the other night. I don't blame ya" he shrugged, offering his reassurance. Mia smiled greatfully. He was sweet to her. Brian had been caring, but not this sweet. He'd been too into Dom and what was going on in her brother's life to do much for her. "Let's eat!" Dom called, and those two words brought everyone in to the picnic table pretty damn quick. They arrnaged themselves around the table. Dom at one end and Vince and Kaylen squeezed on the other. Leon, Lizette, Letty and Nueto sat on one side, while Mia, Ginger, DeShaun and Jessi-Jay took up the other. Dom had piled the chicken on the plate Mia had retrieved for him, and set it down in everyone's reach. Vince dove for the food, hungry as shit, but Dom smacked his out-stretched hand, then pointed a finger at him with a mocking smile. "You know the rule. You say grace" Dom announced. Vince scowled, "I ain't sayin' shit". "You have to V!" Letty grinned, pushing his arm. He didn't look too happy about it, but he bowed his head anyway. The rest of the table followed suit. "Uh, thanks a heap for, ah, this food an' shit. An', ah, thanks for friends and family and... and the god damn street races" he said, raising his head again as soon as he finished. "The god damn street races" Dom echoed with a smile on his face. He was remembering Jesse. Knowing Vince had not brought it up so as to keep the feeling around the table light and easy-going. He was on their minds though. The silence told him that much. "A'ight. Let's eat some grub" Letty grinned, breaking the silence, and the rest followed her lead. * * * The eleven of them were like a family, closer even than blood could make them. The short amount of time they had known each other for had no impact on the way they were and the closeness that became obvious between them. They poked and jostled each other, smacked each other about and teased light-heartedly, kissed and hugged and laughed and talked to one another other as though years had been put into the bonds they had created. They made quick work of the food, which was understandable among the eleven of them, and even quicker work of the beer. Vince began to despair when they reached their last block of Coronas, and the others teased him about it until he relented and took Kaylen with him in the Maxima to get some more. Everyone helped in clearing the table, making a tedious job alot easier, then moved on to the lounge to watch a video. Dom had announced during lunch that there was a race on tonight, and that meant a party. Another one. Ginger figured his team could handle that. His worries about making friends here were all but forgotten. His enchantment with Mia was all that mattered right then and there, and that even elliminated his problems with Stratt for now. Ginger leaned his shoulder on the doorframe. Letty was sitting with her black eyes fixated on the TV screen, between Dom and Jessi-Jay, who was cuddled under DeShaun's arm. Vince was flat out on his stomach, his nose only a few inches from the screen, and Kaylen was spread out beside him, her head on his tattooed shoulder, her legs draped over Nueto, who was lying beside her. Lizette sat with Leon, tracing her fingertips over his knuckles, uninterested in the movie. Ginger hadn't seen his team this happy or even this calm in a longer time than he cared to admit. "Today was nice" Mia stated softly, loading dishes into the sink. Ginger turned to look at her, then grabbed the tea towel from the benchtop and headed over to lend a hand. "Yeah, it was" he responded to her statement, "Haven't done anything like this... well, ever, really". "Never?" Mia wasn't really looking for an answer as she handed him a plate, and Ginger began drying it. Mia sighed softly, and he studied her profile, waiting for an explination for the aparent sadness that had just emerged in her. "I did this once" she stated softly, putting another greasy plate in the soapy water, "I was washing these same dishes, standing right in this same spot, and he was drying them, just like you are". "Brian" Ginger responded knowingly. It was more of a statement than a question, but she nodded anyway. "I wouldn't hurt you like he did, Mia" Ginger said, putting down the plate he held, then took the next one being held out to him, "I wouldn't, and I won't". Mia looked over at him, slowly putting another plate into the sink. Ginger held her ebony gaze, matching the smokey emotions her eyes held with his own. And when she stepped up to him, leaning gently against his chest, he didn't even try to stop her. Not even when she moved to press her mouth to his. "Ay. Yous gonna cook us some popcorn or wot?" Vince had a big cocky grin on his face as he came in from the lounge. Half pissed and feeling no pain. "Cook it yerself, V" Mia sighed, stepping away from Ginger, feeling the loss, even though they hadn't even managed to get to the kiss before he had announced his arrival. Vince giggled, then picked up a packet of popcorn from beside the microwave. He was always nominated for the job of microwaving the popcorn, and it was usually because he was more shitfaced than anyone else in front of the TV. Ginger took the next plate Mia handed to him, and wiped the tea towel over it slowly. He should have been angry at Vince for breaking the moment before it had gotten a chance to become something more than 'expressed interest', but he couldn't. He really should have been thanking him. For stopping him before he did something stupid. Something that could jeopardise his life, as well as that of his team, the Toretto's gang, and more importantly, Mia's. And that was the last thing he wanted for her. The last thing in the world. |