Vince didn't know why he'd expected the house to be exactly the same but he had. It was a punch in the gut to see it changed.


The front yard actually looked like a yard, flowers lining the edge in a cheery border. The house had been painted, a creamy off white color. There were dark green shutters to match the dark green door and the trim on the porch.

Vince looked down at the sidewalk. There was a rust colored stain there from where Jesse had bled to death. He knew that Johnny and Lance had shot his friend and that Johnny had died for the act but he didn't know if Jesse had died alone.

He hoped like hell that he hadn't.

There was no car in the driveway so Vince climbed up the steps. He walked around the side of the house and crouched down next to the basement window that had never properly locked, not even when they were kids.

It locked now. The new owner must have fixed it. "Shit." Vince cursed as he straightened up. He walked into the backyard and all he could remember was that last cook out.

Mia had broken his heart that night shattered it maliciously into a million pieces when she'd chosen Brian over him. The worst part was she'd smiled the entire time.

He'd left in a huff; drove too fast, got too drunk and nearly killed himself on the cliff road. Part of him had wanted to die although it had taken him a long time to figure that out.

That was the thing about prison, it gave you time to think. He'd spent eight years behind bars, including the year he'd spent learning to reuse his arm. Not that his arm had ever really been the same.

Vince sighed as he took one last look around the backyard. Whoever said you couldn't go home again, well they'd been right.

His home now was a rented room, in the worst part of town that smelled like old smoke and cheap beer, but it was his. Of course in a week if he didn't have the rent he'd be homeless. He'd been homeless once before for a few days until Anthony Toretto had found out.

Dom's father had welcomed him into the home with only one rule. No lying. It wouldn't be tolerated and if he lied and got caught he'd be back out on his ass with no questions asked. Vince wouldn't have dared lied because he'd always envied the relationship that Dom had with his father.


Carlo Anzaldi had been a cold hard drunk who enjoyed nothing more than knocking his wife and kid around. Vince fought back one time and that was how he ended up on the streets. His father had disowned him and forbid his mother from speaking to him.


The next time Vince saw her she was laid out in a casket after taking an overdose of sleeping pills. Carlo had always told Alice that the only way she'd ever get away from him was death, he'd been right.

It had been Anthony who stopped Vince from going after his father. Vince would have gladly killed him with his bare hands and had no problem with spending the rest of his life in a cage for the pleasure.

Anthony had told him that killing his father wouldn't bring his mother back and that certainly she'd want a better life for her only son. To honor his mother he needed to live a good life.

Vince had tried to lead a good life. He'd went to night school to earn his high school equivalency, started working in the garage. Soon he'd had his own car, a bank account, food in his stomach, clothes on his back.

When Anthony had died the world had changed yet again. Dom had been so caught in his grief that he'd ended up spending two years away. Vince and Mia had been forced to run the garage and the diner so they didn't lose everything.

That was how they'd met Jesse and Leon. They'd managed to hold it together while Dom was away. When Dom had come back they'd made even more money because Dom was golden behind the wheel.

They put the profit from the races into their cars and into the garage. It was great money but for Dom it just wasn't enough. He'd come up with a scheme to get them more money than they could spend in a lifetime.

It was true enough that they'd made a ton of money but in the end that hadn't mattered, at least not for him. He never had the access codes for the off shore accounts that Dom had set up for the proceeds of the truck robberies.

The house wasn't the only thing that had changed. Hector and Edwin had brought the garage. Hector had offered him a job but with his arm, his days as a mechanic were done. It had been humiliating to admit that, mortifying to see the look of pity on Hector's face.

Hector had offered him some money, to tide him over until he got on his feet, Vince had refused. His pride wouldn't allow him to take a handout even if it was from a well intended friend. He'd find a job somehow.

Vince's steps slowed as he approached what had been the diner. It had always been sort of a run down place because Dom was reluctant to spend money on anything that wouldn't make them real money.

Now it was a pretty little building with lots of cars in front of it. There were flowers in front, a set of small tables for outdoor dining and the smells coming from the restaurant made his stomach growl.

He had thirty six dollars in his pocket, he could afford to spend a few dollars on a meal to see the inside of the restaurant.

Music was playing softly as he stepped inside. It was a woman singing but he didn't recognize her voice. It was crowded, most of the tables filled. Vince spotted an empty seat at the counter and sat down.

"Hello!" A cheerful waitress greeted him. She couldn't have been more then eighteen with a shock of dark red hair and a sprinkling of freckles over her nose. "Would you like to see our lunch specials?"

"Sure." Vince took the paper that she handed him. The prices were more reasonable than he'd expected. "I'll have the number five."

"Good choice. Marilee is famous for her meatloaf. Would you like cheese?" Vince nodded. "What would you like to drink?" Vince told her and she disappeared to help another customer. He looked around the restaurant and couldn't shake the feeling of sadness and loss in his stomach.

There was nothing left for him, nothing at all.