Thanks for the reviews. Glad to see my readers are back. I'll tie up loose ends in the next one.

P.S. This one may be a little short.

(Deacon)

I woke up early to find Emma seated in front of the television, a bowl of cereal in front of her.

"What did I tell you about fixing yourself cereal?" I said, walking into the kitchen to start coffee.

"That I should let you do it until I'm old enough," she mocked my tone, making me laugh.

"And why didn't you?"

"I tried to wake you, but you wouldn't get up," she stated simply, shrugging her shoulder. "Can we go see Vince and Mia today?" she asked, obviously forgetting the events of the day before.

I took a deep breath, letting my coffee heat up, as I walked into the living room. I sat on the wrap-around couch and called for Emma to sit with me. She bounced over to me, jumping in the seat next to me.

"Now yesterday, Mia and I broke up. Know what that means?" I asked her. She shook her head. "K, well that means that we won't be seeing much of each other anymore."

Her bottom lip quivered and water immediately sprang to her eyes.

"It's okay honey," I tried to coo her. I pulled her into my arms and rocked her, trying to get her to calm down.

"But I like Mia. And I like Vince. And Dommy. Please Daddy, don't broke up with Mia," she mumbled between cries.

"Shh, babe, it's all right. We just had some differences and decided it was best. You can still see Vince and Dommy," I bargained with her.

"You promise?" she asked, holding out her little finger. I took her little finger with mine, smiling at her.

"I promise babe."

"What do you mean, Emma's supposed to be yours?" Dom asked, stepping out of the Supra. Vince ran his hands over his head, taking a seat on a nearby stool.

"Five years ago, that night at the races, I saw Deacon talking ot Luna. I watched her go home with him. And I was still pissed for losing, so a few weeks later, I noticed she started coming to the races without him. One night, I took her home for the night," Vince started, a feeling of guilt and pain taking over him.

"You only slept with her once?" Mia asked.

Vince shook his head. "She kept coming back to the races, and back to me."

"So why do you think Emma is supposed to be yours? Did she tell you/" Dom asked, now leaning up against the Supra.

"She disappeared for a few weeks, then she showed up at the races again. I tried to talk to her, but she pulls me aside and tells me she's pregnant. I ask her if its Deke's, she says yeah. That was the last time I talked to her," Vince finished, his breath caught in his throat, tears pricking at his eyes.

"So what you're saying is...Emma might not be Deacon's?" Letty asked, amazed at how things were turning out. Vince nodded. "Oh shit," she mumbled, flopping down in the stool below her.

"That's why they're so close," Dom mumbled, running his hands down his face.

"I need some fresh air, I'll be back later," Vince spoke, walking out of the shop.

The Team waited for his Galant to start. Instantly, it purred to life and Vince sped off of the parking lot, down the road. The gang stayed quiet, everyone processing what just happened. Dom stood from the Supra and walked back to Jesse's office, where he was still modifying what the Supra would look like.

"Hey Kid," Dom flicked Jesse on the head. Jesse removed his large headphones, looking up at Dom quizzically.

"What's up Dominic?" Jesse asked.

"I need you to run a profile on Deacon. Find out everything. Don't mention this to anyone else," Dom asked, leaning against the closed door.

"Alright Dom. Is everything all right?" he asked, as Dom wad about to leave his office.

"The Supra's looking good, Kid," Dom commented, smiling as he ignored his question.

In Mexico...

(Brian)

"Brian, man I don't think this is a good idea," Rome said for the umpteenth time as we pulled out of the city of Tijuana. We decided to wait a few extra days to leave so I could get the clear about Heathrow. We left this morning in my Nissa Fairlady 350Z. Rome decided that he would drive there, considering I was in no condition to drive. Even though I was going to be racing in about a week. Hopefully I would be a little be healed up by then.

I really needed Dom and the Team to pull through for me. I mean, I know I messed up, but I helped them out in the end. I just need Heathrow off my back. I couldn't go through anymore torture than he had planned for me.

At the thought of the pain I suffered, my ribs began aching.

"Did you take your meds today?" Rome asked from the driver seat, noticing I was doubling over in pain.

"Yes, mother, I took them," I said sarcastically, rummaging through my small bag for my pain killers. I popped two of them, followed by a swig of water.

"You really think this will work?" Rome asked, a few hours later. We were just crossing the border back into the U.S. and my heart was started to pound heavily.

"I hope so Ro. I have no other choice."

Deacon was woken by a knock on his door. He noticed that he was still on the sofa with Emma, considering they had fallen asleep after he had gotten her to calm down. He stood up easily, lying her down on the sofa. He stumbled over to the door, tripping over a few toys left lying around. As he pulled the door open, he was surprised at who was behind it.

"Hey babe, I'm home," the person behind the door said.

"What do you want?" he asked, stepping out onto the porch.

"I came to see her," the person replied, smiling softly.

"Don't you think it's a little late for that?" Deacon sneered, crossing his arms against his chest.

"Deke, just let me see her okay. I miss her."

"No, get the fuck out of here. She's gone this long without you and you're appearance isn't gonna change shit."

"Please Deke, I have the right to see her. I'm clean now Deacon, please," the person begged, only frustrating Deacon more.

"You have two minutes to leave or the cops will be down here," was all Deacon said before he stepped back in the house, slamming the door behind him.

"I can't believe she showed up," Deacon mumbled, his hand over his mouth.

(Vince)

I drove for a few hours until I got to the last place I thought I'd be. I sat outside the house, watching my father inside his home. He was seated in front of the television, having a good laugh at something. I smiled to myself. I killed the engine on my car and got out. I paced back and forth next to my car, wondering if I was making the right decision. I hadn't seen this man in almost ten years. Who knew how he'd react to me just showing up.

I took a deep breath, hitched up my britches and walked towards the house. I put my hand up to the door, but pulled away quickly.

"Come on V, you can do this," I told myself. I inhaled, knocking at the door a few times.

I backed off the threshold and waited. I stuck my hands in my pocket, nervous to the reaction I'd soon get. Suddenly, the door swung open, revealing an old man with kind eyes.

"Vince," he whispered, tears instantly springing to his eyes.

"Hey Pop," I said, smirking a bit as I fumbled nervously with my keys.

My father walked out the house, moving closer to me. He now stood mere inches from me. He raised his hand to my face, cupping my beard. He used his other hand to run it through my hair, causing me to chuckle a bit. He had a firm grip on my hair as tears began to roll down his face. I looked up at the sky, hoping to fight the tears that threatened to fall from my eyes.

"Oh, my boy," my father pulled me to him, his face on my chest considering I was a good foot taller than him. I laughed as the tears rolled down my cheeks.

"How you doing Old Man?" I asked him happily, hoping to stop the tears that were now streaming.

"Come inside Vincent," he pushed me inside, slamming the door behind him.

I nodded and allowed him to push me inside. He pushed me over to the sofa and walked into a back room.

"Would you like something to drink Vince? Milk? Juice?" he questioned, peeking his head out what seemed to be the kitchen.

"Dad, I'm twenty-four years old. How 'bout a beer?" I laughed as he nodded. He came back out with two beers. I frowned in disgust at his choice of beer. "Budweiser, Dad?"

"What, that's all I have," he smirked, flopping down next to me. He stared at me, scratching his fingers down my beard. "I can't believe my boy is home. I've missed you Vincent," he smiled, giving me a playful punch on the chin.

"I'm glad to be home, Pop."

I looked around his place. It was a typical old man's place. It had fish that he caught hanging on walls, he had a gun rack, a stack of newspapers in a corner and a small TV on a rectangular wooden table. I also noticed what looked like a family photo on his coffee table.

"Dad, why is there a picture of Emma and Deacon here?" I questioned, my eyebrows in a thin line across my face.

"You know them?" Dad asked.