A/N - revisions Aug2015: minor editing. Translations at bottom. New title.

Chapter 4

Pendejo

In a dark corner of Mexico City, a nicely customized Mercedes S class rolled to a stop near Letty. Wiping blood from her lips, her other hand touched the gun in her waistband. A man stepped out. He looked around with interest and approached. He stopped a half dozen feet away, calm and cool as a Corona fresh from the Toretto fridge. "Why didn't you use your gun?"

Letty frowned, flicked her sights across their surroundings. The guy was alone as far as she could see. He carried himself with authority, very passive-aggressively so. His quiet demeanor wasn't soft, it was dangerous. Calculating. He scared to piss out of her. She snorted, straightened, and lifted her chin, replying in English though he had spoken Spanish. "I didn't need to."

"What was the fight over anyway?" The next question was in English; his accent American, yet lacking regional distinction, likely spoiled by time spent internationally. That meant he knew his way around strange places and a bit about people.

"I won this prick's pink slip, but he didn't wanna pay up. He and his buddies thought they could jump me and steal mine instead." She kicked the guy at her feet. He huffed and moaned senselessly. "Asshole."

He smiled and started chuckling. "She was right. I like you." He hummed to himself. "I think you're worth more to me alive than dead."

"Who was right? What the fuck do you want?"

"I have an opening on my team for a driver. We do jobs that will get you any kind of car you could dream of."

Letty's interest was more than tickled. The sound of working with a team again made her heart flip sideways, and she stomped down on it quickly, before it could show on her face. "Who are you? What kind of heat follows you?"

"Right to the point; confident in why you've been nominated for the position." His smile was genuine, but it still sent chills down Letty's back. If she wasn't so damn bored of the city and her curiosity begging for adventure, she would have walked away. "I believe that my team and I, we're on the most wanted lists of the Federales, Interpol, FBI, you get the picture."

"Mafia?"

"Sometimes the families become a little annoyed when we score on their turf." Shaw chuckled. "Or take something they thought was theirs."

"Families will cross borders that feds can't." Letty returned. If only her own family had.

A nod. "You have a good point. That is one of the reasons we drive really fast cars."

Having a mafia chasing her tailpipe sounded like one of the most idiotic things a person could do. Letty shrugged. She hadn't made any lasting friends in Mexico, and her family apparently didn't give a damn about her. There wasn't anyone relying on her, and her landlord could replace her easily enough. What the fuck did she have to lose?

"When do I start?"

He smiled and fished a plain white business card from the pocket of his leather jacket. Pinching it between fore- and middle fingers, he narrowed his eyes a little and didn't extend it. "Not going to ask my name?"

"Does it change how much I get paid?"

"Not a bit." The business card was handed over. On it was printed an address. Letty sneered at the paper. "Couldn't you just fuckin' text me?"

"Be there at noon tomorrow. If you are late, the offer is void."

"What's your name?"

"Owen Shaw."

"Shaw. See you tomorrow." She turned her back on him and went to get the keys and pink slip out of her new car. The engine alone was worth the effort, though she was going to enjoy the payday from the rims and sound system as well. It was a gorgeous, sexy piece of work, just completely fucking useless in a race against a pro who didn't weigh down her ride without giving it the horsepower to carry it. His loss.

A month later, she was submerged in the engine of a huge truck, only her ass and legs sticking out. She hated diesel engines; the noisy monsters flat-out pissed her off. Growling, she sprayed the last frozen bolt keeping her from getting to a wobbly belt pulley with more penetrant. She waited a few minutes. It still wouldn't budge when she attacked it with her socket wrench. "Hecho en America. Pieza de basura!"

"Surely not all things American are terrible. I happen to think the arse in front of me is one of America's better accomplishments." An amused woman's voice called out in English over Letty's continued cursing and loud music.

Letty lost a bit of her shoulder to a sharp edge wrenching herself out of the engine compartment. Laugh lines creasing across her face, Shannon was standing a few feet away dressed in jeans and a lavender jacket. Her hair was a little longer than a year ago, though its messy style hadn't changed. From sandals to eyebrow ring, Letty's eyes scraped, taking in the health of the woman she had called friend. Shannon's smile made her want to cover the woman with engine grease via a bone-crushing hug. They looked at each other. Letty did not hug her, nor greet her, nor do anything to further acknowledge her presence. She plunged back into her work.

What felt like a week later, Letty emerged, the pulley victoriously in her hands. She took great pleasure in comparing it to the new part she had, nodding at the same-ness, setting it on the ground, picking up her sledgehammer, and smashing that annoying piece of shit to pieces. Grinning ferally, she allowed herself to look around. The garage was empty of other people. Her smile pinched into a frown.

The pulley was already in too many pieces to satisfy her renewed lust for breaking something. Her eyes settled on the truck, but she knew Shaw would shoot her, seriously put a bullet in her brain, if her temper tantrum delayed his schedule. They were leaving Mexico the next morning. Costa Rica had a drug cartel that wanted to buy the goods in the back of the truck. Someone wanted to start a war or keep fighting one, judging by the crates of ammo she'd watched get loaded. Asshole hadn't wanted to wait for her to finish repairs before he filled it with a few tons of cargo.

A hand gripped her ass and hot breath tickled her neck. She leaned back into Shaw and licked his tongue, tasting his favorite brandy. Cupping his groin over his pants, she nipped at him, winning a moan and his hand slipping forward along the crease of her ass to press her overalls into her hot button. Letty crooned, and Shaw's not so little soldier jumped under her hand.

Some sweaty time later, Letty peeled her shoulders and butt cheeks off the hood of her car. Dripping, she stretched and spoke over her shoulder. "If I don't have the truck running by morning, you can blame yourself."

"You'll get it done." Shaw said, his voice cool.

Letty hid her displeasure by bending over for her clothes. He was a great fuck, which Letty never complained about, but sometimes she wanted a little more than sex. Dom would...

She grunted. "How could I think otherwise?"

Shaw stood and didn't bother stuffing himself into his clothes, merely retrieved them, and strode butt naked from the garage. Poor Jeff flattened himself along the wall to keep from being slimed by the boss as they passed at the door. The guy wafted the air by his nose as he walked in. "You two need to leave a sock on the door or something. Phew."

Finished hooking her bra, Letty stuck a leg in her pants. "You ever gonna bother learning any Spanish, Jay?"

The ex-American weapons specialist snorted. "Why? I don't need to learn the beaner language to shoot them and take their shit."

Letty rolled her eyes. "Pendejo."

"The fuck you say to me, hooker?"

A wrench flew at his head. "You're a fucking moron."

Jeff threw the tool back, blew her a kiss when she caught it and flipped him off. "Why didn't you just say so?"

"I did. Twice."

"Bitch. Did you get anything done before you two smeared your car with sex?"

She gestured at the shattered part. "Yanked the broken pulley. I'll have the new one in place, and the belt back on in an hour."

"That how you cut open your shoulder?" Jeff asked, scooping up her panties from the ground and stuffing them in his pocket. "Or did Shaw's usual gorilla tactics cause it?"

Curling her lip, grossed out by wondering what Jeff would do with her underwear, Letty eyed her shoulder. Blood trails reached her elbow. In the cut was black gunk, mixed and dried with the blood. She grumbled about how cleaning it out would hurt and didn't answer him. "What are you doing in here?"

Jeff hopped into the cab of the truck and came out with a takeout box. "Almost forgot my dinner."

"How long ago?"

He smiled, blew her another kiss, and left her alone. Letty looked at her shoulder again and grabbed the new pulley.

"Hey, the hot new chick, what'd you do to piss her off? She was all smiles before she dropped by your cheery digs." Jeff's head was poking back at the doorway.

Letty's face was impassive rock. "Not a damn thing."

"Told her no, huh?"

"Go oil your pole."

Taking a bite from his box of food, he nodded. Once again, only her engines and music were there for company.

Pulled up to a little place that served local food and didn't ask questions, the crew listened to Shannon describe the compound they would be arriving at later that afternoon. Letty sipped at her tequila and remained silent. Shannon did her best not to look at her.

On the drive down, Letty had listened to Jeff babble about Shannon, how he had learned from a teammate that Shannon was on Shaw's payroll long before either of them. The woman and her camera were important reconnaissance tools. That was why she wasn't around when Letty got drafted. Despite her light skin and obvious foreigner status, the woman could get in anywhere. If she couldn't take pictures, she had an almost eidetic memory she could draw diagrams and sketches from. Her fluency and cuteness charmed out of guards what pictures, thievery, or bribes could not.

Knowing why Shannon had left Letty with no more than a few hours warning didn't make the fact that she had left Letty all alone in her apartment the day before her birthday with only three hours notice and a vague reason about a lucrative job, any easier to swallow. Not that the foreigner had known the next day was Letty's birthday. Mia had always planned the parties, and Dom had always made sure there was a cake or cupcakes or Butterfingers or popsicles or fortune cookies or whatever other strange, yet thoughtful sweet gesture he thought of. Letty wasn't the one to share that kind of personal information freely.

Shannon had asked a few times. Letty had evaded it each attempt, not wanting to remember family who had abandoned her, nor ready to let her new friend in that much. It had felt like the last straw. Shannon knowing her birthday would lead to gifts, which started the path to setting down roots, which meant calling a place home. In her heart, home was on a hill in L.A. with people she had known since grade school, not a shady neighborhood in Mexico City with a woman she could count weeks with.

Letty supposed that now she could technically say she had known Shannon over a year. She watched tanned hands float through the air and come to rest on the table. The anger and betrayal festering in her heart wouldn't let her forgive her former friend easily. Avoiding interaction with Shannon was in her schedule as far as she could get away with it. She had no intention of letting her walls down and allowing herself to be hurt like that ever again.

The world and all its selfish inhabitants could go fuck themselves. Letty Ortiz didn't need or want to be attached to any of them. At this point, she barely gave a damn about the people around her who she was supposed to call her team. She sure as hell didn't care about the bastard Shaw. Or Shannon...

Eyes were watching her. Letty lifted her gaze up and met their concerned interest with steely challenge. Softness faded with hurt and hardened. Shannon's jaw clenched, and she looked away. Sneering, Letty downed the rest of her drink and stood. She found the bathroom, then made her way to the truck.

Feet propped on the dash, sunglasses keeping out the sun's fierce glare, she fantasized about taking the nice little wad of cash she had, getting her car out of the semi-trailer, and ghosting away. She'd like to face Dom and ask him why, maybe hug Mia one last time. The sight of Shaw's perfectly maintained goatee convinced her to stay. That man would probably hunt her down, no matter how long it took, and torture her to death for screwing up one of his plans. Part of her torture would definitely be watching the people she cared about die. He was a cold-hearted monster, brilliant and dangerous.

How the hell had Shannon fallen in with him? Why? The latter traipsed about Letty's head. Why would Shannon work for Shaw? Nothing she had learned about the woman indicated she would.

Shannon was talented with her craft, seemed to never want for money, and had this joy of life that people in Shaw's crew simply did not have. Only money, revenge, or apathetic hatred fueled the people around them. Her old friend didn't fall into any of those categories. Did she? Letty's brow furrowed, and her lips scrunched together.

Hips and strong thighs poking out from pink shorts crossed the distance from restaurant to vehicle. Letty belatedly looked higher, but her initial familiarity was not disproved. Shannon was stomping in her direction.

"Shit. Shit!" Harsh curses grunted out of Letty. She'd accidentally caught gazes with her and couldn't pretend to ignore her now. Fuck that. Yes she could. She locked the doors and leaned back.

Claps on the door annoyed her. "Letty! Open the fucking door." Bang. Bang. "Letty!" Her name being yelled pissed her off. She peered out of her polarized sunglasses through the windshield, her upper lip curling.

"Letty! You stubborn cunt, we need to talk."

No the fuck we don't, Letty growled silently.

"Letty." Shaw's low voice cut over, and she was forced to turn sideways to the door. Behind Shannon, the boss stood, one leg pointing at them, the other slightly bent. His arm were crossed. His face was impassive. The man was pissed off for some reason.

Rolling down the window, Letty cursed. "Shaw?"

"Whatever your issue is with Shannon, settle it now."

She gaped.

A hand moved, rigidly flat, palm up, and gestured to the Aussie. "If she is running around yelling your name, someone will hear it. That could be a problem. You know how I dislike those."

Letty found herself not voicing how Shaw should be telling Shannon to shut the fuck up then. Threaten her, the bitch making all the noise, not silently angry Letty. Instead, she nodded, teeth clenched, breath heavy. For some reason, she had a slight influence on the man. He would kill Shannon to solve the issue if she did not.

"Good. Shannon, ride with Letty. Jeff will take your place."

Neither woman argued. His eyes raked over one, then the other, and he went back to the restaurant. The women looked at each other.

"Get your shit." Letty was already moving, snagging up Jeff's gross drink bottles and bag of clothes. The man in question came jogging over.

"What the fuck is up Shaw's ass? Why am I switching to the truck with stinky Pete, and the dyke gets to be with your fine tits?" Jeff complained.

"Pedro does not stink." Shannon defended the older guy.

Jeff sneered. "You're right. Just his beaner farts."

"You're a right arse."

"Fuck you too, sweetheart."

Letty shoved his crap at him. "Hurry up before Shaw gets any more brilliant ideas." She deigned to look at Shannon and repeated herself. She really hated doing that. "You too, get your shit."

Hesitation and jerky movements later, Shannon scampered off for her personal effects. It wasn't exactly a lack of trust among the team, it was more that they could be separated at any time. Cops could crash the party, so could rivals, cartel soldiers, random explosions, badly maintained roads. That kind of shit happened in their line of business.

When she returned with her gear, Letty was in the driver's seat. At Shaw's signal, she started up the engine and waited.

"Letty..."

"This is how this going to work. You don't talk to me. I don't talk to you. Unless our orders explicitly require it. We don't have a pissing match and both of us stay alive." She really hadn't needed to add the last and mentally kicked herself for it.

"But..."

Letty dropped her coldest glare on her passenger. "I don't care."

Mirrored sunglasses hid Shannon's eyes as perfectly as they did Letty's. "Fine. Neither do I."

Spanish translations:

Hecho en America. Pieza de basura! – Made in America. Piece of shit!

pendejo – moron, very insulting