Making Memories VII In This Skin

I cannot believe this fic has 120 reviews! So amazing! You all are phenomenal! And all the follows and favorites….thank you so, so much!

Shandra-Lee: You are 100% right, I forgot Letty gave the cross to Owen, and now I feel like a moron! Thank you for reminding me! Everyone-please know I totally forgot that part of the movie (I think I forgot because of all the feels I was experiencing after the Dom x Letty reunion LOL). Forgive me, please!

Don't hate me for this chapter…it had to happen sometime, and sometimes it better that it get worse before it gets better. I know everyone wanted a continuation of last chapter…the sexiness and all…but this idea came to me this weekend and I had to get it out of my head. Hope you guys appreciate it a little at least! :/

The room was quiet, still. Letty softly stretched, reaching for the solid mass of her man beside her, beginning to roll over. Her hand just kept reaching..she couldn't feel anything but the soft cotton sheets below her fingertips. Opening her dark eyes, she scanned the room, looking for Dom. She listened for movement, could hear only the light breeze outside ruffling the trees, the ocean in the background.

Sitting up slowly, she looked around the room, looking for a clue. "Maybe he's outside," she thought, climbing out of the comfortable bed. Her bare feet carried her to the screen door, and she pushed it open gently. No sign of him on the porch. Their cars sat, still and dark. She looked around, listening.

Everything was so still. It was the middle of the night. She glanced at a clock as she entered the cottage. She walked the entire small place, looking for him. Not a single light on, nothing out of its place. She returned to the bedroom, confused. Her eyes focused on a stack of money, his cross laying over the cash. Her heart dropped, and she immediately knew what he'd done. Her shoulders sagged, as if every breath had been sucked out of her. "Son of a bitch," she whispered with venom, her throat tightening. She crossed the room and picked up the heavy charm, holding it in her hands. She felt a void, felt empty. She tried to swallow the tears that threatened to overflow. He'd left her despite her pleas, despite her resolution that they were a package deal. 'Ride or die,' the words swam around her head. She repeated his words over and over,

'I don't want you around when they catch up to me.'

Well, he'd made that pretty clear. He'd made his mind up, didn't allow her any say.

The tears spilled over onto the diamonds. She knew he was just trying to protect her, deep down, somewhere inside. But that didn't erase the giant, all-consuming hole he had just created within her soul. She covered her eyes with one hand, willing herself to hold it together. She was furious. And heartbroken.

She reached for her phone, dialing Mia's number without thinking. As soon as her best friend cheerfully answered, the emotions Letty had been trying to hold back erupted with a heart wrenching sob.

"He's gone, Mia. He's gone," her words bore such ache, such pain. She'd searched after him when he'd left her in Mexico. She'd thought they were done playing this game; thought they were in this together.

"Come home, Letty," had been Mia's final consoling words. She found herself buying her way out of the Dominican, crash landing on the Toretto's door step. His sister held her, comforted her. She threw herself into rebuilding that damned car. She had nothing left, and she knew he couldn't-wouldn't-come back, knowing he'd be arrested immediately. She wanted him home, so much.

Letty woke with a start, her heart racing, her sheets strewn about. Sobs bubbled up in her throat, tears brimming her eyes. The emotions surfacing from within her were overwhelming. The pain she felt in her heart...she knew the dream wasn't just a nightmare. It had been real. And suddenly, several things became clear.

Her feet carried her quickly and quietly down the hall before she could comprehend her movements. She peered at him through the doorway, his large arm tossed over his eyes, his chest rising and falling with a peaceful rest. An ache she couldn't describe remained in her stomach as she stared at him. So many memories wrapped around one large event. She wanted to wake him, to hold him, to slap him, and scream at him for all the feelings she had in that moment. But she couldn't move. This was all his fault in so many ways, and yet all hers in others. He had started it, she had ended it. He hadn't been lying though, she definitely couldn't keep herself out of trouble.

She found herself in the kitchen moments later, a bottle of tequila in one hand, a shot glass in the other. The shot was brutal, it burned, but she'd needed to feel something other than the tightening she felt in her chest. She felt such confusion. Ever since she'd woken up in that hospital, she'd felt like a stranger within herself. When told and convinced she with Shaw was where she should be, she didn't have to question who she was. But as soon as she'd looked Dom in the eye, as soon as he had laid a hand on her, all that resolve crumbled, leaving her lost and unsure in her skin. And though she felt at home in his arms, she felt lost in so many other ways. And this last memory…the feeling of loss and helplessness, had pushed her to the ledge. Frustration was an understatement. She was down right exhausted.

She climbed up to sit on the kitchen table, setting her bare feet on a chair. She put the bottle down and put her head in her hands. So many questions, so much confusion. Who was she, really? The person she felt she was or the person she barely remembered being. Laying back on the table, she knocked over a few empty beer bottles that had been there since earlier that night, clattering to the floor, one or two shattering.

Dom woke with a start to the sound of breaking glass. On autopilot, he grabbed the handgun from under his mattress, cocking it. He pulled himself from the bed quietly, not bothering for a shirt as he made his way into the hallway and toward the stairs. It was dark, no lights were on downstairs, and he stepped carefully and quietly to make sure he did not disrupt his intruder enough to scare them off before he found out who it was. Lifting the gun slightly, he leaned around the corner, peering into the kitchen. He sighed heavily when he saw Letty, on her hands and knees, with a dust pan and a hand broom, cleaning up the broken glass he'd heard. He rubbed his eyes, uncocking the gun. This caught her attention and she jumped visibly, resting a hand on her heart.

"Jesus, Dom, you gonna shoot me for breaking some empty corona bottles?" She exclaimed, staring at the loaded gun in his hands. He raised an eyebrow at her tone, placing the gun on the top of the refrigerator.

"I didn't realize it would be you down here making a mess at 3am," he replied back, pouring himself a glass of water to calm his nerves, their fight mode still activated. He noticed she had chosen to tequila as her sedative. He eyed the bottle and the shot glass next to it before turning back to her. "You weren't inviting people to your midnight tequila party?" he inquired, leaning his back against the counter. She stood, dumping the glass in the trash, before settling herself back on the table where she had started. She took another shot, not trusting her voice.

"What did you think you'd accomplish by leaving me in the Dominican?" She blurted out at him. Staring at her face on now, he could see her red-rimmed eyes and her blotchy skin. His brow furrowed as he set down his glass gently.

"What do you mean?" he began softly, questioning where she was coming from, "I was trying to protect you."

"I said we'd figure it out. 'We' generally means more than one person. You made the decision to leave me behind regardless of what I wanted. Why?" She spat at him with anger, taking another shot of the burning liquid. On impulse he crossed the kitchen to take the bottle away; he could only imagine how long she'd been down here drinking away her anger. When he tried to take it from her, she pushed against his chest roughly, holding the bottle out of his reach.

"You were safer without me than we were together. I almost got you killed on that last job with the oil tanker, not to mention all the times before that. The cops were hot on our trail. It was only a matter of time," When he reached for the bottle again, she shoved harder. "Where is all of this coming from? We've talked about this—"

"How do you think it fucking felt to wake up, to search for you, to find you gone, a pile of money and your cross on the bedside table? You left me after I told you not to, and you didn't even have the balls to say goodbye!" He could see her eyes well up, and it dawned on him: she had remembered it. This time he attempted to reach for her, not the bottle, but she pushed him hard again, and kept going, tears threatening to spill over. "How do you think it feels to not know who you are? To not know anything of a life you supposedly had?" She set the bottle next to her, and threw her hands out in front of her. "These hands are barely mine, because I barely even know who I am! Do you know what it's like to feel uncomfortable in your own skin? Like it's not even yours? You know more about my scars and freckles than I do!"

"Letty, I left you to protect you from me. From my life. You didn't ask for this, any of this. So many things that happened were my fault, and I didn't want you involved. I knew you'd go home to be with Mia, and that was the best thing for you." He tried to comfort her from a far, tried to reassure her.

"How can you say what the best thing for me is?" She practically yelled from her place on the table, her face red. He clenched his jaw, his own frustration becoming apparent.

"Because I knew that if something happened to you, I'd never forgive myself." His words were quiet, controlled, but the emotion in his eyes told her he was speaking from the heart. She scoffed.

"Well, Dominic, how's that forgiveness feeling now?" Tears streamed down her cheeks as she put the bottle to her lips. She had always felt like she had forgiven him for his sins with her, always felt she didn't have a choice because she didn't remember. Now that she had, she had so many emotions to work through.

Hurt crossed Dom's face. Touche' didn't even touch their situation. She was right though-by trying to save her he'd driven her to her demise. Maybe if he'd kept her close, this all wouldn't have happened.

"At least you're alive, Letty, and not in prison. "

"You're not in prison." She retorted. He sighed.

"I was on my way before Brian and Mia helped me escape. I only have immunity because we brought Shaw down. Prior to that we were wanted all over. You would have been a part of that. And that's no life for you," he knew they were dancing in circles. He'd never win this battle. "You need to understand if you had just gone home and stayed there, some of this would have never happened."

Her tears hurt him. He knew some of this was confusion, some was just anger. And truth be told, some of it was just.

"You said I never could keep myself out of trouble. You should have known what I would do to get you back." He wanted to touch her, hold her close, but her icey stare wouldn't allow.

"Letty, what you did-I never dreamed you'd go uncover to bring down a drug cartel in exchange to clear my name. If I had known you would've done that….a lot of things would be different," He signed, rubbing a hand over his hand. "I can't change the past, Let. What happened happened. And if you need time, I understand. But none of that changes the fact that I went to London for you, and only you. I know I made mistakes along the way, but believe me when I say that once I knew you were alive, bringing you home was all that mattered." He could see her resolve crumbling, and he took one step, followed by another, until he was right in front of her. Tears still streamed down her pretty cheeks, but he could see she was beginning to understand. He cupped her cheeks, his thumbs erasing the teardrops. "I know I left before, but I promise, I'll never leave you again." He searched her eyes, looking for some comfort for himself, some sense of forgiveness. There was nothing he wouldn't do for her. And he had learned his lesson hard the first time-he would never leave her again. This was it for him-she was it for him.

She stared back at him for a long moment, her eyes swollen and red, her face flushed from the hard liquor. "Show me," she taunted him softly, her tone one of seriousness and stone. He didn't have to be told twice-he'd do anything to make her understand where she stood with him. His hands still cupping her face, his lips crashed into hers.

Oh don't worry, you'll get more ;) I just ran out of time and wanted to post this now while I had a moment.

Leave a review and you'll get the next part of the chapter you're looking for :-P hehehe

Thank you for reading!