I wish I could be just a little less dramatic like a

Kennedy when Camelot went down in flames

Leave it to me to be holdin' the matches

When the fire trucks show up and there's nobody else to blame

Mama's Broken Heart, Miranda Lambert

Z

Leticia "Letty" Ortiz.

Twenty-seven-year-old, five-foot-six Hispanic female. Black hair. Brown eyes. Raised in the Echo Park neighborhood of Los Angelos, California. The street racer with multiple hospital visits for car wrecks in her teens. Girlfriend of Dominic Toretto. Former friend of Brian Spilner. Internationally wanted thief.

Listening to Letty talk to Han about an issue with her Barracuda made my head spin and made me wish I had a drink.

How does one turn off an entire part of themself? Especially the part of themself that they had been relying on for so long.

"What do you drive?" Letty turned to me so suddenly I almost lost my balance.
"What-Um, Ford Maverick. !971." I recovered quickly, flashing her what I hoped was a convincing smile. Her eyebrows raised, but she didn't say anything. Unable to take the silence, I started blurting out words. "It's new. Well, new to me. I bought it off a meth head in LA. I've got a lot of work to do on it. I haven't really started yet."

"What kind of work?" She asked curiously. A nervous laugh bubbled out of my throat.

"I-I'm not sure yet. Engine-wise, I think I'm solid, but the exterior and the seats need a lot of restoring. My work wife's going to teach me."

"You're going to work on it yourself?" There was a sharpness in her voice that carried a lot of disbelief.

"Yeah. I just have no idea what I'm doing yet." I shrugged. "I'm a quick learner though."

"Wannabe gear head, huh?" She smiled. "You came to the right place."

"Yeah. I think it's about time we get going though." Han's voice cut in.

We'd been at the races for a while, but I wasn't ready to leave yet. I turned around to tell him that when his look stopped me dead in my tracks. I felt the flush run back into my cheeks. His eyes flicked back up to my cleavage and back to my face to leave no question of why we were leaving.

"It was nice meeting you," I told Letty without looking away.

She let out a throaty laugh and started walking away.

"Typical, man. Go back to her place so I don't have to hear anything this time." Her parting words made my face turn bright red and forced me to look away.

"How about it?" He asked.

"Can I drive?" I asked tentatively. His lips pressed together as he considered it. I chewed my bottom lip out of nervous habit when I realized I probably pushed too far.

"Come on." He gestured towards his car with his head.

I felt a little deflated with the no, but I allowed him to lead me through the crowds. When we got close to the Road Runner, he pressed his keys into my hand. I looked at him for some sort of indication that he was unsure about this, but he showed none.

"I guarantee you I'm not going to be used to as much power as you have in this car," I warned him.

He shrugged with a smirk. That motion just oozed confidence.

"We're about to see how easy to impress you actually are." I snorted.

"How much work have you put in?" I asked as I opened up the driver's side door. He shrugged again before settling into the passenger seat.

I slid in, relaxing back into the hot leather seats. Han was a good bit taller than I was, so I had to move the seat up. I glanced over to see if he minded, but his expression remained neutral. I put the keys in the ignition and turned it over. The sound the engine made just radiated power. I took a few deep breaths as I ran my hands over the steering wheel.

"Just don't stall it." He said with a smirk.

I snorted. Brian had made sure my stalling days were over. Without another word, I put it into gear and pulled out. The engine was not what I was expecting; it was a lot more powerful. The Road Runner shot forward at the slightest tap of the gas pedal. He really had put the work in under the hood.

As I shifted to second gear, my confidence grew. The races were rapidly fading away in my rearview. When I shifted third, my heart jumped into my throat as I felt the power of the engine.

The only thing pulling me out of my trance was Han's hand on my thigh. Tonight was going to be fun.

Z

"So the Road Runner?" I asked sleepily against his sweaty, bare shoulder. His hum of a reply reverberated through his chest.

The Road Runner was the most beautiful machine I'd ever driven. It was faster than the little blueberry Brian taught me to shift gears on. It was heavier so it felt a lot less like a toy. I almost didn't want the drive home to end. Almost. I found it difficult to drive home with his hands wandering up my thighs, but he made it worth it the second I pulled into the driveway and put the car in park.

Turns out it's easy to forget you're a cop when you keep your hands and mouth busy.

I had a voice in the back of my head telling me I couldn't get involved with Toretto, but I couldn't bring myself to regret letting him in.

The sheets were half wrapped around us and half-thrown on the floor. The only thing keeping the chill of the ceiling fan from being overwhelming was his radiating body heat. We'd thrown open the door to the patio to let in the salty breeze.

"Do you race it?" I murmured.

His chest rose and fell in a sigh.

"When I'm racing for something I want." He answered after a moment of silence.

"Respect. I'd race for respect." I blurted. I blamed the alcohol. We'd downed a few shots in between rounds in some drinking game that had quickly devolved into just drinking and sex.

"Surely you get some of that?" He questioned. I let out a humorless laugh.

"None at all," I answered without thinking. "I work with a bunch of idiots. They don't think I'm capable of anything."

"What about the work wife?"

"He's the only one," I replied. "He's fucked something up years ago and he's also the black sheep. That's why we get along."

"How bad can you fuck up as a counselor?" Han asked incredulously.

"Think about that for a minute," I replied. I felt the hum of an answer in his chest. "I fucked up too. It's hard to live with, but it happened."

"Is that what caused this extended vacation?"

"Yeah. I mean, how else do you get away? Doesn't everybody run to Mexico?"

"They do in the old Westerns."

His fingers started tracing a slow aimless pattern across my shoulder blade, causing me to shiver. I felt my eyelids growing heavy as I relaxed into his body heat. I was almost asleep when I felt him shift his weight. Annoyed, I looked up to see him looking at the time on my phone.

"Leaving now?" My voice held a little more venom than I meant for it to. Han's lips pressed together in thought before he shook his head and dropped my phone back on the nightstand.

"Nah." He stretched, showing off the toned muscles in his arms and chest. I groaned when his movement jostled me.

"You did promise me breakfast." I poked him in the ribs as a reminder. "I'm ready for bed," I muttered.

"Did I wear you out?" He teased. I laughed.

"I want to play it cool and say no, but we both know the answer."

Without another word, he propped up on one elbow and turned off the lamp on the nightstand. I thought sleep would come to me instantly, but it didn't. I shifted, trying to get comfortable, but it wasn't working. Han hadn't moved in a while, so I was trying to keep my tossing and turning to a minimum.

This whole thing felt a little foreign to me. The last time I shared a bed with someone it had been Brian in the honeymoon suite. Right before I shot somebody and he bled out on top of me.

"What really brings you to Mexico? Besides no extradition." I whispered.

I had been pretty sure Han was already asleep, but the intake in breath told me he was wide awake. I was pushing it; that was a question perfect for the interrogation room, but I really wanted to know.

"Why do you want to know?" His voice was even and measured so I couldn't even gauge what he was thinking.

"Because I want to know that it's not just me," I answered after a long, heavy pause.

I was being reckless again and I was sure it was because my head was swimming with alcohol. If I was going to be not complicit, then I couldn't know anything. I couldn't ask questions. I couldn't hang out with Dominic Toretto and his girlfriend. I also couldn't go around telling my story.

It didn't matter though, he wasn't dumb enough to answer that.

Z

It shouldn't have been a shock to wake up alone.

The sun was streaming through the windows directly onto my pillow making it impossible to stay asleep. It amplified the pounding in my head. The doors leading out to the patio were still cracked, letting in a nice warm salty breeze and the sound of the waves. My stomach flipped at the smell of the ocean. I wanted to shove my head back under my pillow like an ostrich buries its head in the sand, but I knew I had to get up and face the day.

Waking up alone hurt, but what did I expect?

He was a literal criminal and I asked him why he was running to a place with no extradition. I was so stupid. What was it that I wanted? Did I just want confirmation that someone else ran from their problems? To hear someone else had done terrible things that regular society couldn't possibly understand?

Feeling good in Mexico and pretending to be someone else was not going to work. I faced everything life head-on, why couldn't I face this the same way? That was what I needed. To face it and get over it.

I also needed to call Brian. If he didn't hear that I was having the best time of my life then he was going to realize I was losing my mind and he'd probably come get me. Papa Brian coming to get me didn't sound like it was the best thing, but at this point, I would welcome it.

Deciding I needed to deal with my hangover first, I got out of bed. I threw on a tank top and shorts that I grabbed out of the nearest shopping bag and headed to the kitchen. I choked down half a bottle of water and some Tylenol before I started working up the courage to call Brian.

He answered on the last ring. I had kind of been hoping he wouldn't answer at all especially since I knew he was at work today.

"We're making progress on the Braga case." He answered without a greeting.

"Are you?" He snorted.

"Not really. We've got an undercover CI that's agreed to try to get a spot as a driver." He sounded frustrated, a rarity for Brian. Normally the only thing that frustrated him was me.

"That doesn't sound like progress." I put in.

"Considering we haven't been able to find shit, it's better than nothing. " I heard a door shut and the faint noises in the background faded away. "How are you?'

"I had sex. How's Lisa?"

Brian didn't reply for a long time. I started amusing myself by picturing him pinching the bridge of his nose and counting to ten.

"It sounds like you're doing better than the rest of us." He finally answered.

"I don't know. How's Lisa?"

"Bennet's been an ass like you wouldn't believe. I'm surprised she hasn't murdered him with her bare hands yet." Brian's voice trailed off.

I had worried about how much Bennet the FBI agent would remind me of Bennett Ross the murdered. I felt that sick feeling in my gut at the mention of the name, so I knew going back to work was going to suck.

"He's always been a piece of work." I finally choked out. I felt hot and nauseous just talking about him.

"I'm sorry, Beck. I didn't-" I cut off all of Brian's apologies.

"The FBI has already cleared me. Penning said it was a good shooting from the beginning. I know I'm going back. Working for the FBI was all I have ever wanted in my whole entire life. Nothing is going to stop me from going back; not even shooting him. I shot him. He's dead and I did it. I have to get over this. That's all there is to it. You can't just walk on eggshells around me. I'll get over this. I'm fine. I'm halfway there." I insisted.

I felt the wetness start on my cheeks.

"I still feel him, though, when I try to sleep at night. I still feel him bleeding out on top of me. I dream about being strangled. I can't sleep. I can't stop thinking about it." I admitted before I could stop myself.

"Anna-"

The sound of the door closing startled me. I whipped around so quickly I dropped my phone.

Han was standing at the door wearing fresh clothes and a pair of mirrored aviators. He was clutching a grease-stained bag in one hand and a cardboard drink carrier with two coffees in the other.

For the first time since I've met him, he was displaying something other than calm, confident flirty neutrality. Even behind his sunglasses, I could see his raised eyebrows. I could definitely see his slacked jaw.

No one moved. The only thing that broke the silence was Brain's voice coming through the phone in a panic. Knowing he'd call the local police if I didn't do something, I grabbed my phone off the counter.

"I'm fine. I'll call you back." I hung up and tried to stare Han down with cold confidence, which was difficult considering I was crying.

"So. How much did you hear?"