Consequences Chapter 8, a fast and the furious fanfic

That girl told me,

If I ever do her wrong,

I can have all the money

All the keys.

From that day on, She's through with me.

Already Taken, Trey Songz

"This the piggy bank you ordered?" Santos asked. He rested the crow bar on his shoulder as he leaned against the wooden box surrounding the vault.

"Where the hell did you guys get one of these?" Rome asked in astonishment.

"Well, we had a life before we met you.' Han deadpanned.

My dad's old crewmember Christiano gave me a small smile. He had been the contact I had that wound up delivering the vault to us. He was the smuggler the team always called on. He was a massive black man who spoke with a soft accent from whatever country he was from. He might have been built like bear, but he was the kindest and most philanthropic of my dad's old crew. I had heard he was now using his smuggling skills to get supplies to an orphanage he had started.

"Alright. Well, I'll get to work on the electronic tumbler, but we still got another problem: palm scanner. Without Reyes's handprint, Houdini himself couldn't open this bitch."

"How you know it's Reyes's handprint?" Leo asked.

"You got a hundred million dollars in a safe. You gonna use somebody else's?" Tej deadpanned.

Santos and Leo started off into another fight. Christiano, who was hanging around in background where everyone had forgotten about him, shot me an amused look. Everyone else was having trouble not laughing.

"How we supposed to get Reyes's handprint?" Rome cut into the argument.

"Han, Eliana. You two are up." Dom said with authority.

"Sure; nothing like the easy stuff." Han said confidently as he started off towards his Maverick. He put his hand on the small of my back when got close to me.

"Excuse me." Christiano cut in. "I realize that you owe me nothing, but I would like to borrow Eliana for a while."

"For bringing us this, we owe you." Dom said gesturing to the vault. "Gisele, do you wanna go?" He asked.

"Sure. Let's go. I'll drive." She sauntered off towards the car without a back ward glance.

"Be careful." Han whispered as he sized up Christiano.

"You too." I added. Enough venom sunk into my voice that his head turned towards me. "What?" I added innocently. He shook his head and followed Gisele, but I knew he understood.

"Okay, you've dragged me all over Rio, bought me lunch, and haven't told me anything I didn't already know. Now skip the awkward small talk you've been giving me, and tell me what you want." I told Christiano forcefully as we walked down a nearly deserted beach only the locals seemed to be on.

"You Gonzalezes; no subtlety or small talk with you guys, huh?" Christiano laughed lightly.

"So there is a reason you took me out here." I confirmed.

"We got a job." He deadpanned.

"No." I answered immediately, even though it made me sad I wasn't working with my family. "After we pull this, I'll be too hot."

"You'll be more behind scenes for this, I believe. Mechanic." He informed me.

"What is it?" I asked. I drug my toes through the sand as I walked impatiently as I waited for him to answer.

"I'm not sure. Harper's planning it." He said slowly. "But, before you really say no, we'll be keeping her contained."

Harper was one of my favorite crewmembers, but she was also fairly crazy. If she picked a project she wanted to work on, she wouldn't let it go.

"Is that even possible?" I asked sarcastically.

"I'm not entirely sure." Christiano said with a laugh.

"It'd be good to see the family again." I said wistfully. I stopped walking to stare at the water. The beach curved back inward to some rocks and I had walked as far straight as I could without getting my toes in the waves.

"It would." Christiano replied.

"What is she doing exactly?" I asked him.

"The underworld of Moscow is run by a man named Demyan Yakovlev. He's overstepped a few ethical boundaries that just pissed Harper off. She's now hell bent to get him out of power. He's an absolute car fanatic, so she's going to use that to find a way to bring his ass down." Christiano explained.

"So it's not what we gain, it's what he loses?" I asked.

"Essentially. There is a possibility of a payout."

"We don't exactly need the money. If he's as bad as you're making him out to be, why don't we just call this a fun, little reunion job and give the money to the people?" I suggested.

"I think that's the plan." He said. His thick lips pulled back in a wide smile.

"Tell ya what, I'm going to think about it and I'll get back to you. It's a little too far in the future for me to commit to it right now." I told him.

"We meet in a week. You finish this job, and then you call me."

"Hey guys, we have a problem! The whole team just got burned. We're all wanted now." Hopelessness pervaded Mia's voice as she yelled from her laptop. Everyone crowded around. Several mug shots appeared on her screen. I was relieved to see mine was not one of them.

"Diplomatic Security Service issued the warrant. Guy named L. Hobbs." She continued.

"Hold on." Brian said. "Dom, is that the guy you saw in the favela?" He asked as Mia pulled up the picture.

"Yeah." Dom answered.

"Hobbs is the leader in the elite taskforce for the DSS." Brian informed us.

"So he's good?" Tej asked. His voice carried the same tone as Mia's.

"When the FBI wants to find, he's the one they call. He never misses his mark. He's Old Testemant; blood, bullets, weath-of-God. That's his style.

"And right now, he's hunting us." Mia said what everyone didn't want to believe.

"Dom, we gotta move up our time line." Han said.

Great, I can actually make it to Moscow. I gotta figure out how to run this by Han. Can't exactly hide this. I thought. I was reluctant to let him work with my family. It wasn't his type of job to begin with, and I really couldn't see him getting along with the rest of my crew.

"How? This thing's already been difficult without Wyatt Earp on our asses. If anything, we need more room to breathe" Rome stated.

"Couldn't we throw him off? Give him a distraction to confuse him?" I asked.

"No. Guy's to bull headed. From what I've seen of his cases, he doesn't get thrown off by much." Brian answered.

"We need to get some fresh air." Dom finally said.

"What took you so long to get back today?" Han asked quietly.

"I haven't seen Christiano in years; we had a lot of catching up to do. He knows Rio very well, so he took me on a tour while we talked." I told him. I grabbed a clean shirt out of my bag to pull on for the races.

"You didn't mention him when you told me about your dad's team." Han mentioned.

"Christiano's a smuggler. He only worked with us when we needed him, which wasn't that often. Why are you asking me this?" I turned to face Han who had an unreadable expression on his face.

"You've just been really quiet since you got back." Han answered.

It was true, I had been distracted. I was weighing the pros and cons of the next job. I had also been trying to decide what kept me from outright telling Han I was offered a spot in Moscow or that I had a place set up in Italy. For some reason, it just felt like they were mine, and I didn't want them to become ours, especially now that he was getting on my nerves with the Gisele.

"If something were bothering you, you would tell me." He stated more than asked.

"Why wouldn't I?" I asked. Oh God, he knows.

"I don't know. You just never told me things like Kamata hitting you. I just found out about it years later in a passing comment." Han stated. I thought back to our first night here and tried to remember exactly what I had said about Kamata. All I remembered what that it made Han uncomfortable.

"You know you hated hearing that." I reminded him.

"That doesn't mean you shouldn't tell me. It obviously bothers you if you still wake up screaming."

"You are the last person I want to talk to about Kamata." I instantly regretted that statement. I saw a flash of anger in Han's eyes. He felt guilty about Kamata taking his anger out at Han on me, and he hated to be reminded.

"Let's just get to the races." He answered after a glance at his watch so fast he couldn't have actually checked the time.

"You know we have time to do all of that?" Rome asked me. We had just gotten back from the races, it was the middle of the night, and I was still tuning the Supra Santos wrecked.

Han and I were in the middle of a fight. My careless comment had put him in a pissy mood and he had been making sarcastic comments that drove me insane. After getting to the garage, everyone stood around and talked for a minute before dispersing. We went in opposite directions without speaking.

"Yeah. I just-" I trailed off. It was obvious I was working to relieve some frustration.

"You should just call it night. You're not going to get this thing fixed anyway." Rome grabbed my sweat shirt sleeve and pulled me away from the car.

"You're probably right. See you tomorrow." I told him. I waved goodnight at the few remaining people and got varying degrees of response.

I wrapped my sweatshirt tighter around me against the night chill. I hadn't realize exactly how tired I was until I was making the trek up a few of the hills. I was a street away from home when movement caught my eye. I paused for a second to let them pass before I realized it was just Gisele walking approaching her house.

And then I realized who she was with. Han walked her to her door, and stood talking with her for a minute. I watched him start to turn away, but Gisele said something that made him turn back. In a split second, she had crossed the space between them, and was now flush against him with her lips on his.

I was stunned. I felt completely numb and paralyzed. I hoped he would turn away from her, but when she finally let him go and opened her door, all he did was follow her in. I felt an annoying mixture of emotions, before one moved to the forefront of all the others: anger.

I jogged back to the house we were staying and slammed the door shut behind me. I swore, paced, and slammed my hand against the door frame, but it did nothing to get rid of the rage I was feeling. I finally flopped on the bed and put my fisted hand against my forehead in helpless defeat.

My brain started wandering to all the things I should say to him when he finally got back, to all the things he did wrong, to all the things I did wrong. The whirlwind of emotion was absolutely swallowing me whole. I felt so much anger, hurt, disappointment, and regret-even though it was Han's decision and not my fault.

There was nothing I could have done to prevent this, right?

I sighed, knowing this thought was a lie. When I left Tokyo with him, I had sort of decided that I would either stay with him until he got better, or stay with him permanently. Unfortunately, I had gone with the latter. Damn boy talked me out of the former.

Flashback

The still air was oppressively hot and sticky. I felt a drop sweat run down the back of my neck, even though my hair was pulled up in the back. I pulled at my tank top so it would unstick to me and continued down the narrow tiled hallway. I made it to room 329 and opened it without knocking.

I was greeted with the sound of fan blades and the sight of Han lounging on his bed in a thin, sweaty t-shirt and his boxers. His thick black, unkempt hair was now hitting his shoulders. His open laptop was sitting at the foot of the bed playing some random action movie. I was going to miss him. I felt the corners of my lips turn up in a sad smile at the sight as Han gave me a look that clearly said he didn't find his current state amusing.

"Doctor said you were almost walking again." I commented as I shut the door. I tossed Han my large purse which landed beside him. He started smirking when he saw the contents: several bags of chips, a few candy bars, and a bottle of beer. "I could only fit one." I said about the beer. I probably could have fit more, but I didn't want him to mix it with his meds.

"Liar." He joked. I flopped down on the edge beside him.

"When you can walk more than a few steps and stand longer, you're going to be released." I told him. He was quiet for a second as the movie's explosions continued in the back ground.

"I can't wait to get out of this hell hole." He responded. "Get somewhere with air conditioner." I glanced around at all of his fans with a smile.

"You want the window open?" I asked. It didn't help much, but at least there was a breeze. Han nodded.

I slid off the edge and crossed his small room in three steps. After struggling with rusty latch, I finally managed to get it open. A small breeze floated in off of the ocean and room immediately felt less oppressive with the circulated air.

"Do you have another clip?" Han pointed at the back of my head.

"In the purse." I responded as I sat back down. "You need a haircut. Real bad." I told him as he wrestled it back off of his neck.

"I'll get one when I get out of here." His lips pursed like they did when he was thinking about something. "Speaking of that, what are we going to do when I get out here?" He asked me seriously.

"That's actually what I wanted to talk about." I murmured. I felt a sick, nervous feeling in the pit of my stomach. I didn't know what had kept it away this long. Han adopted a frown that mirrored my own. He pushed himself up off of his pillow by his elbow.

"You're leaving?" He asked incredulously.

"I-I'm not going anywhere until you can take care of yourself." I stuttered. "I have the house and a garage set up. It's enough to live comfortably off of. It's your's if you want it."

"I wasn't worried about that." Han answered. He sighed when I pressed my lips together and didn't reply.

"I'll be okay." I said when he was obviously frustrated by my silence.

"I know." He said quietly as he laid back down.

A silence thicker than the humidity settled between us. I had planned on moving on either to Costa Rica to visit Miles like I had planned in Tokyo before Kamata caught me, or to Italy where I had invested my dad's money. I had always thought about moving on when Han could take care of himself, but it was a lot harder than I thought.

"Why?" He asked.

"You're not going to want to stay here forever, and honestly, neither am I. But when you move back to the cities and go back to the same lifestyle you had, I don't want to go with you. I just want to find a place, and settle there. Just, lay on the beach, work on cars; not anything else." I said lamely. Han seemed to find this amusing.

"You really think life's going to go back to that?" Han asked me slowly. The fact that it probably wasn't sunk in when I took a good look at the shape Han was in. "Just stay with me for a while." He continued. I thought about it.

"If I do stay, I'm not going back to the way we were in Tokyo. I can't do a friends-with-benefits, open relationship anymore." I told him harshly. He chuckled.

"I'm not going back to being a playboy for a while, if that's what you're worried about." He told me seriously.

"That may be, but when you do, I will walk away." I told. He glanced at me.

"Okay, Elle." His hand snaked out to grab my knee. "But I think you're the one girl that will never have to worry about that."

There it was: the golden opportunity to walk away and start over, or at the very least come clean about the money. Instead I stuck with the stupid playboy who had I had watched throw out countless flings when something more interesting walked by on six foot long spider legs. Hell, he cheated on couple with me. I was so stupid.

I sighed in frustration and sat up. I pushed my face into my hands before scraping my fingers though my hair. I wanted to cry so damn bad, but I wouldn't let myself. The last time I had cried was in the condemned hospital in Tokyo where Han had been taken three years ago.

I was not the weak little girl I was in Tokyo. With Han in the hospital, I had to find a house and start a business to support both of us on my own. Sure I had money to do it, but it was still hard to do when Han was drugged up in a hospital bed.

At least this time I don't have to worry about starting over. I thought bitterly.

Angry tears threatened to fall as I slid off the bed and pulled out my bag. I opened my drawers to get my things and shoved them unceremoniously in the bottom without bothering to fold them. Waiting for Han to get back be damned; I was getting out of here.

I accidentally looked at my self in the mirror when I set my bag on the dresser to zip it. My eyes were about to overflow with tears, my jaw was rigidly set, my face was flushed with anger, and the ruby necklace Han had given me years ago was glimmering at my neck. Without thinking I yanked at the chain trying to find the clasp. I pulled too hard and it came off in my hand. I dropped it like it burned me.

I suddenly couldn't take being in the house anymore. I threw my bag over my shoulder and headed for the door. When I got to the door an impulsive feeling hit me and I pulled out my house keys from Colombia and blindly threw them back in the room. With that last insult to Han, I made my way outside.

Not having anywhere else to go, I started running through the streets toward a dingy, horrible looking motel I had seen at the edge of the favela. Once I got there, I broke the lock to one of the rooms and threw my bag down. I slammed the door behind me and leaned back gasping against it. I felt like I was falling apart.

When I got myself calmed down, I put a towel down on the sheets which looked like they hadn't been washed once since they'd been put on the bed and curled up on it. A lot of thought and emotions swirled in my brain. I really wanted nothing more than to shut them up with tequila like everyone else in my family did when they were upset, but I knew it was better to stay sober.

I also knew I had to finish the job. I didn't need the money, and I didn't need to be around Han, but I had agreed to this. It would be cowardly to run now. I just had a few more days, and then I could run. But running never solved anything for me. What I need was a distraction.

I grabbed my cell phone and dialed Christiano.

"Hey. I'll meet you in Moscow." Without waiting for a reply, I hung up.

I felt one hot tear slide down my face. I pushed it away and buried my face in my crossed arms. I could have prevented this, but because I didn't, I guess I'd just have to live with the consequence.