You got to promise not to say anything
'Cause this guy don't dance
And the word's been passed this is our last chance
Things weren't noticeably less tense the next morning when Brian decided to throw everything in the car without making any effort at morning conversation. That seemed to suit Dom just fine; he clomped around the room getting ready, eating quickly; when they were set to go he plunked himself in the passenger seat and stared out the window like he was practicing for the glum Olympics. It was a little too much of a show, but Brian just took it for what it was: Dom being Dom, ornery and moody and exasperating.
For about twenty miles. "You gonna play it like that all day?" Brian asked with a sigh.
All he got was a low rumble in return.
"Geez, what? I don't even merit a grunt?"
There was a minute shake of Dom's head, but still nothing.
"Wow, man. I never knew."
After a few minutes Dom turned and asked "Knew what?"
Brian grinned. He knew that would get him. "That I had the power to make you speechless."
This time Dom really did shake his head, and eventually gave in to a ghost of a smile. Brian liked Dom's smile, a lot. It transformed him into someone completely different: goofy and endearing, boyish and open. Sometimes Brian wondered if anyone had that many sides to their personality -- all the things they'd told him Dom was, all the things Brian had discovered on his own. So many facets and Brian was starting to believe that maybe he was the only one who got to see them all.
"So what's the game?" Dom asked, taking a long drink from a bottle of water.
"Depends. Who do you want to see first?"
"Hector. I want my car back."
"It's not like you can drive it. And I'd bet money you won't let me."
"Yeah, I'll let you. Because I don't want to be chauffeured around in this piece of crap. What's the deal, anyway?"
"Ah, this is my work car."
"Work car?" Dom rolled his eyes. Of course he wouldn't get something like that. His work was his car.
"Yeah, man. The precinct's, like, all the way across town. Better mileage, and it's not a car anyone's likely to rip off."
"Then the Eclipse was yours?"
"No, that was for the... the job. I have a Karmann-Ghia, sixty-eight."
"No way."
"Way." Brian laughed, and it gave Dom a little shiver of pleasure to hear it. He had a throaty laugh, warm and honest. His voice was surprisingly deep; you looked at him and expected some nasal surfer-dude voice, and instead got something rich and... sensual. "Piece of junk when I bought her, though, is how I could afford it. I put in a new engine so it actually hits sixty on the freeway. Took me years to restore it."
"How do you even fit in it?"
"Volkswagens are surprisingly roomy. Then you pull the top down, stick the board in, and you're off to the beach. If you want we could go get it. Since it's more important to ride around in style, and all."
"Fuck you," Dom said, as good naturedly as possible. "I just might need my car, is all." He didn't like the thought of offering it up as interest or even collateral, but he would if he had to.
"Yeah, I know. Sorry."
"It's okay." He watched the scenery pass by for a while, trying to think of what to say. Even if it was an uneasy truce, at least they were talking, and Dom supposed he was grateful for that willingness on Brian's part to keep things good between them. Especially after the weirdness of last night. "So let's see Hector first. Then we go have a chat with the guy who sent me the trucks. Rattle a cage. Maybe he knows some playas." Dom waggled his eyebrows.
"Got that right."
They drove toward LA, quiet now maybe because they were more at ease. When they stopped for lunch at the first burger joint they found, Dom watched in awe as Brian gobbled down two huge cheeseburgers, large fries, and the biggest chocolate shake he could get. There was something almost awe-inspiring about Brian's ability to eat. If Dom ate like that, he would weigh about three hundred pounds. When they got out of the hills and down toward the city Dom started to feel more like himself, like he was back in his element. And he thought he could see that in Brian, too. His eyes were alive, watchful, his posture straighter even as he drove. Dom could see the cop in him now, all the steel inside that had brought him to try to save them that day, that had given him the courage to spill the truth and lose everything he'd dreamed of having. Everyone thought Dom was the badass, but Brian had a strength and self-possession Dom could never even hope for. And lately he wasn't so sure that he deserved to have all that standing at his back.
"Damn!" Hector said for about the fifth time in the scant few minutes they'd been at his place. "You're five-o? Damn."
Dom rubbed his eyes. "You know, it would be cool if you'd keep that on the down-low." He understood the surprise, but it was time to move on.
"Who'da thought homeboy for a cop? You think they might have put someone slick on the job, not some crazy-ass naïve white boy like this." He shook his head and opened a beer, taking a long drink. "Stories been flying fast and furious on the street, hermano. We heard all this shit about you getting taken down, but apparently we were missing some vital information." He glanced at both of them in turn, face suddenly very serious. "But I'm sorry about Mia, man. I like that girl. Whatever I can do, you got it."
"Big thing now is I have to find Castelano, because he'll know where to get in touch with the crew above him. "
Hector could tell Dom wasn't going to give up too much information, not now, anyway. Too dangerous for him. He also knew Dom wasn't telling him everything, but he wouldn't expect him to, not really. A situation like this, you'd be walking the knife-edge, and he'd known Dom for a long time -- he was more than aware of how short Dom's rope was.
"You know who'd be good to see? You tried King yet? Or that kid with the sick Prelude, man, what's his name? Jared Leung, he's the one. He's moved some merchandise. Or so, you know, I've heard." He winked at Brian, who did that crazy shy grin thing. Cop or not, it was hard not to like the guy.
"Kid's barely out of diapers."
"They're starting earlier and earlier, brah. So how long before it gets out you're five-o?"
Brian raised an eyebrow. "You keep it quiet, then long enough. We got to get Mia back before I'd prefer to have my resume hit the streets."
Hector laughed.
"That's a good idea -- King," Dom said. "I'll do that. Haven't seen him in a while anyway." Dom stood, slowly. Hector had never seen him like this, all bashed up and almost weak. His face looked drawn, and it reminded him of when Dom had been sentenced to prison. Just weighed down by it all, older. "You got my keys?"
"Yeah." Hector dug around in a drawer and tossed them to Dom. "Don't sell that thing unless you have to. I'll cry if you do."
Dom smiled, but it had a kind of bitter edge, or tired. Hector wasn't so sure that Dom could do this, even with Snowman's help. It was like he couldn't quite get it together and that was a pretty scary thought: Dominic Toretto rolling when he barely had control of himself. He gave him a handshake and then Dom was out the front to the car parked in the driveway, all ready for them to take.
Brian was leaving when Hector said, "Yo, Killer." Brian turned, hand on the screen door, his face intent. "He gonna be okay?"
"He's cool. Just... lot of regrets, you know. Pretty down on himself for letting it go down."
They both watched Dom get in the passenger seat and reach into the glove box to rummage around. "I've known Dom a long time. But I ain't never seen him like this. Keep an eye on him, yeah?"
"Will do."
"Glad he had someone to help him, though. Not too surprised it was you."
Brian gave a small, nervous laugh. "What's that mean?"
"Ah, I saw that the first night you raced. You got the need for speed. You're on Dom's team now." Hector shook his hand and watched as they drove away. He might have to call in some favors to make sure nothing happened to those two.
"So who do we see next?" Brian asked, pulling into a drive-through so he could get something to drink. "You want something?"
Dom just shook his head.
"How you holding up? Pain okay?"
He nodded.
All right, so, obviously we were in a bad mood again. Or maybe not, it was always hard to tell with Dom -- when he was feeling grumpy, when he was just being his usual Mr. Silent self.
After Brian ordered Dom turned to him. "I want to see Jeff Larson. He's the one who tipped me to the trucks."
"Okay. Where do we find him?" He handed the money to the woman at the window. It felt weird to be driving Dom's car; he was unfamiliar with the controls and it had a lighter clutch than he was used to. But it was definitely a sweet ride.
"Long Beach. He should be coming off shift in about an hour."
"Probably take us at least that long to get down there."
"He's worked for Castelano before. Doubt he knows anything, but I got a bone to pick with him about why he didn't tell me the truckers were packing."
"I look forward to seeing that," Brian said cheerfully, but Dom didn't respond.
They drove in silence down the freeway until Dom gave him directions to the lot. It took less time than he'd thought -- the benefits of a really fast car and a little aggressive driving -- so they pulled up outside the security fence of the lot to wait, far enough away not to be seen but close enough that they could watch for him. Dom was starting to show signs of fatigue and pain, but Brian knew better than to bring it up again. It had been a long day already just driving around, and the last thing Dom really needed was to be working up a temper over Brian's nannying.
"So what is this guy... working on the side, or something else? Pretty good job to be risking it for a tip-off payment. You cut him in the deal?"
"He got a percentage from me, off the top of the money we split on the team. And a bonus from Castelano. Probably making himself a nice retirement home in Big Sur. Most of these guys are watching their pensions being drained away by the companies they work for, and the unions bleed 'em dry already. More and more of this business is being moved elsewhere. It's easy to buy someone off if you catch them at the right time."
Brian considered that. He forgot sometimes how aware Dom was of business things. When they'd given him Dom's jacket at the beginning the only picture he was able to create was of a stupid thug who knew how to put cars together and little else. Then when he'd started spending time with the Torettos he found out that Dom definitely had a mind for business. He and Mia had nearly come to blows a few times over the store, because both of them knew enough and had such strong opinions that if their ideas diverged, they could easily back up their decisions with facts and figures, and then it degenerated into a war of numbers and examples. Mia almost always won, though.
"So who approached him, you or Castelano? Does he know you beyond your voice on a telephone?"
"Yeah, he knows me." Dom didn't want to tell Brian that he'd known Jeff's brother in prison. Then they'd have to get into that again, something he was tired of. He saw the first of the crew coming through the gate and raised his chin. "Showtime."
Brian reached over him to open his door. It was an odd, thoughtful gesture that shocked Dom, and the fact that Brian didn't act like he'd done something special left him even more amazed. He watched Brian before getting out of the car: the way he walked around and stood by the door, waiting for Dom to get out, the way he looked at Dom with concern and interest. Brian was totally into the caretaker mode now, but it wasn't irritating -- he was just on autopilot, assuming the role naturally and not making a big deal of it.
When Dom saw Larson he nodded his head, and they walked quickly to catch up with him as he went for his car. Larson was just opening his big Ford truck when Brian put a hand out to shut the door, and he spun around, his mouth open. Then he saw Dom. "Hey. Hey, Dom. What are you doing here?"
"Got a place we can talk?"
Jeff spread his hands out as if saying, "as you see." Dom noticed a couple of older shipping containers about 500 feet off to the side, obviously out of commission. He jerked his head in that direction. Dom immediately rounded on Jeff when they got there, getting in his face, a tactic that always worked well for him. Even though Jeff was a tall guy, Dom had learned to use his size as a weapon, which a lot of people didn't know how to react to. Jeff backed up against the container.
"What the fuck were you thinking, not telling me the driver was carrying?"
Larson looked like a deer in headlights. "I didn't know, I swear."
"How could you not know? You were the one who loaded the fucking truck. They nearly killed two people on my team, and me. One of them is in critical condition at a hospital!"
"I did not fucking know, man. I only found out they'd called in the feds after the fact. It's illegal for those guys to have a weapon. Not something they want to broadcast around."
His face was red, and Dom wasn't sure if it meant he was angry, afraid, or ashamed.
"Not only did we not get the load, we lost people. And now my sister is collateral till I pay them the money for the missing load. Do you get what I'm saying?" It was taking everything in him right now not to break Larson's neck like a twig. He was grateful for Brian's presence, because it was the one thing holding him back.
That news made Larson back down a little. "What do you mean? They took your sister?"
"Gregory has her. They came into my fucking house while I was in the hospital and kidnapped her."
"Oh, shit," he said, running a hand over his face. "God, Dom, I'm sorry. That's not right. I'm sorry."
All Dom could do was laugh harshly. No fucking kidding it's not right. "If you'd given me a heads-up, this whole thing could have been prevented."
"Castelano wanted at least one more truck. Even if I'd known... he can do a lot worse to me than you can."
"You a betting man? You wanna put a few bills on that?"
Brian realized that was his cue and he took a couple steps forward to get right behind Dom. Maybe this guy didn't know why Dom had been in Lompoc, and maybe he didn't know what kind of a temper he had, but Brian didn't actually want to experience his big moment of discovery when Dom knocked his teeth right down his throat.
But Dom didn't ease off, even with Brian's warning presence. "If anything happens to Mia, if anything happens to Vince, you're a dead man. Nothing Castelano can do will protect you, do you understand? That is on your hands."
Dom was nearly standing on tiptoes, jamming his finger into the guy's collarbone. Brian wasn't sure if he should just let Dom roll, or intervene before anything ugly happened. That beating Dom gave Johnny Tran was still jammed in his brain like a sliver of broken glass. He put a hand on Dom's shoulder. And, strangely, Dom backed off a little, coming down on his heels, holding his casted arm close to his chest.
"Dominic, I lost out on this deal too. I would never have wanted you guys to take that risk."
"That's very nice," he said sarcastically. "But your sister isn't a hostage, is she?"
"You cannot know how sorry I am. What can I do to make it right?"
"You can tell me where to find Castelano. I know that fucking chicken-shit bastard will disappear."
Larson seemed to get more nervous about that than about Dom being in his face. "I don't know. Swear to god, Dominic, I don't know. I make it a point not to know. This scares the shit out of me. Dealing with you is okay, but I let them call me, I don't call them, because I want to stay out of it. I could lose everything if someone catches me talking to any of you."
"You shoulda thought of that before." Dom wheeled around to Brian. "Let's go."
They started to walk off when Larson said, "Wait. Have you gone to the jewelry store?"
"What jewelry store?" Dom asked with suspicion.
"He has a shop that he uses to front his operation. Most of his deals he does out of the back room; keeps it quieter and he looks like a legit businessman. I don't think most of his... uh, vendors, know about it."
"How is it you do?" Brian asked. He'd been believing Larson's I-don't-know-nothin' story up till then.
"That's where my brother worked for him once." Larson glanced at Dom, then away. So now the connection made more sense to Brian. And why Dom didn't want to talk about it. Here Brian had been thinking that Dom told him more about his life than he did anyone else; obviously he'd been very wrong about that.
Larson wrote an address on the back of a business card. "Start here."
Dom shoved the card in his pocket. He didn't say thank you, just made a "come on" hand motion at Brian.
When they got in the car, Brian said, "Well, that was pleasant. I always enjoy meeting your friends." He started the engine and they drove off. Dom didn't say a word. After a few miles, Brian asked, "Where to next?"
"King."
"The guy Hector mentioned?"
"Yeah." Dom pointed him toward the freeway to head back toward East LA.
"So what's the deal with this guy? He got an Elvis fetish or something?"
Dom raised his eyebrows and pulled his head back.
"The name. Is it a nickname or a last name?"
"He just... he's Hawaiian. Big guy. Someone started calling him King Kamehameha when he was a kid, and King just stuck." He was quiet for a while and then he said, "Do me a favor when we get there. Don't stare at him. It'll make me look bad."
Brian frowned. "Okay, whatever." He had no idea what that meant, but it wasn't till they drove up to the miniature golf place that Dom explained himself.
"Dude weighs about three-hundred and fifty pounds. And he doesn't like to be gawped at. It makes him feel all self-conscious."
Brian rolled his eyes as he got out of the car. He looked around at the place -- it was like no mini golf course he'd ever seen. This thing was a car guy's wet dream: everything was shaped as if it was part of a race track, and all the little obstacles and traps were centered around classic cars and parts of cars. "This place is amazing," he said, tagging along behind Dom. "Is this his?"
"Nah. He manages it. Does a little... under the table trading, if you know what I'm saying. Gets busy on a Saturday night. He keeps everyone in line. Pretty much almost lives here, though. If you'd had a chance to race more, you would have seen him at a meet some time. He knows everyone."
"Huh." Sometimes Brian wondered if Dom even remembered he was still, technically, a cop, what with all the things he was telling -- and showing -- him. It was like he had just forgotten that they'd started this thing from different places, with different needs.
As they got to the entrance Brian noticed a dark sedan pull up in the parking lot adjacent to the course's lot. He'd seen it on the freeway entrance back in Long Beach, or one that looked like it. He decided to let it go and keep an eye out later; no use getting Dom worked up if he was wrong.
When they came in the lobby door Brian stopped dead in his tracks, but felt Dom shove the heel of his boot down hard on his instep. Don't stare. Behind the counter was obviously King, standing up slowly, like a human mountain rising up from the ground -- Dom neglected to mention that not only was he big around, but big in height: he dwarfed Brian's six-three frame easily, and made Dom look like a little kid.
"Yo, Dominic!" Even his voice was big. He stuck a meaty paw out and he and Dom did some elaborate handshake deal. "What can I do for you, bro?"
"This is my friend Brian," Dom said and turned to him. For some reason that surprised Brian, but he shook King's hand and tried to look casual. "I'm looking for someone -- you know Berto Castelano?"
It was really, really hard not to stare at him. At the very least he rarely met guys who were taller than him, but just the sheer volume of the man was something to gawk at.
King shook his head sadly, like just admitting knowing the guy was a bad thing. "Yeah, man, I know him." King looked Dom over, took in all the bruises and the cast, then glanced at Brian once more. "You gonna tell what happened to you first? You look like you been in a cage match with a truck."
"Actually, I kinda was." Dom smiled, the first time Brian had seen him do that since before Race Wars, and he felt inexplicably happy. "A business deal went south and things got a little hairy... then I was in a race and hit a truck, flipped the car."
"You're lucky to be here." King seemed genuinely distressed by the news.
"I am, but... uhh, there's some fallout to the business deal. Tony Gregory. My sister is... she's missing. Castelano's my first step to getting her back. You know what I mean."
He shook his head. "Shit. That don't do. Mia, she's a treasure. Gregory's a sick fuck, but I don't think he'll hurt her."
Dom just nodded. Brian was fascinated by how he was relating to King, the way this guy he'd never heard of or seen before seemed to know so much about Dom's life, and Dom about his. It brought home to Brian how little he really knew about Dominic, despite thinking he did because he'd read his jacket, studied him, slipped into his life. Dom moved with ease in the criminal world even though he wasn't what Brian considered a true criminal -- he'd done some very bad things, but he wasn't a bad guy, and that was a little harder to come to grips with. It made Brian wonder why Dom did such things at all: would he have made bad "business deals" with Tran or Gregory if his father had never died in that accident? Was he changed by his time in Lompoc, or had he always been like this?
Dom picked up a golf ball and tossed it up and down. "I heard Berto has some kind of store fronting his operation. You know anything?"
King busied himself rummaging around under the rental counter. "A jewelry store and an antique dealership. He's got somebody legit running the antique place, but the jewelry fronts his main business. Here you go. His business associates." He handed Dom a receipt with something scrawled on the back. "That info don't pan out, you come back and see me. I'll get the 411 -- the Armenian's bad business, but nobody hurts family for a business deal. It don't do."
Dom and King embraced across the counter, and King patted him on the back. Brian was once again struck by how physical Dom's interactions with other men frequently were. He was in their space in a rage or in their space out of affection -- but either way, he had no problem getting up close, no trouble touching or being touched, and seemed to take it for granted that others were the same as him. Over and over Brian had thought about the way Vince had kissed Dom on the head that one night; another time Leon had put his arms around Dom from behind and rocked him side to side when he'd been especially happy about something. Dom just welcomed it all in a way Brian could never imagine.
When they left, Dom said as they got in the car, "You did good. He seems to like you."
Brian scoffed. "How could you tell? He barely even looked at me."
Shrugging, Dom said, "He doesn't talk much. The fact that he made eye contact at all says a lot." He looked at the back of the receipt. "This address matches the one Jeff gave me. Oh, lookee -- phone numbers. Lucky us. And looks like... someone named Tiffany. Could that be a girlfriend's address and phone number?" He arched an eyebrow and Brian did the same in return.
"I take it King runs with a fence-needing crowd? That's why he knows all this stuff?"
"Everyone needs to move merchandise at some time."
Brian got the distinct impression Dom didn't want to talk about the criminal stuff. Like it embarrassed him or something. He cast his eyes back at the parking lot.
The dark car was still there, and this time he could see the guy in the driver's seat. Mid-thirties, short hair, tie. Very surely a cop.
Brian nodded to the left. "Check out John Law over there. He's been following us since the loading lot."
Dom glanced backward and raised an eyebrow. "One of Bilkins's boys, or does he play for the home team?"
"Hard to say. I don't recognize him. But he seems to think we're very pretty -- he can't take his eyes off us."
He slid his sunglasses on. "We are."
Brian grinned. "Yeah, but he's not in our league. And I don't date beneath me."
Dom smiled back at him, the first real genuine smile he'd allowed for Brian. "Think you can lose him?"
Pulling his sunglasses down to the end of his nose, Brian looked up from under his brows. "It would be my pleasure."
Dom waved his hand forward. "Then at your leisure."
He could have driven anywhere right then, elated at things finally feeling so much like before.
Brian hit the gas, tires squealing, that wonderful acrid smell of burned rubber swirling around them. He cut over on a residential street, cornered tightly and flew up an alley. He could see the sedan fishtailing behind him trying to make the turn and failing. By the time he reached the next street the sedan had just entered the alley. Zig-zagging through the streets, he made random lefts and rights until he finally lost sight of the sedan.
He thought Dom would enjoy this, but when he looked over, Dom's face was lined with a frown, and he was rubbing his forehead hard.
Brian pulled into a parking lot of the first place he found. "Are you okay?"
Dom was amazed that he could ask such a stupid question.
"I just... we're not getting closer to Mia and now we're playing games with the feds." He felt like his voice was going to crack in half; his throat was tight and his forehead felt like it had a vise around it. It wasn't that he thought Brian was goofing off by losing the tail, just that he had no control left, things were spiraling past him as he grabbed for them and he kept missing. "I feel like we're jerking off here or something."
"Dom, let's go back to the house. Please. We're both frazzled and tired and we're going to make mistakes. Maybe we should wait till tomorrow to go to this store."
"We don't have time to wait."
"You must have hit the wall by now. I can tell you're in pain. We've been driving nearly all day and much as I like driving, this isn't comfortable for either of us. We can get some food--"
"We do not have time," Dom growled. He wiped a hand over his face, regretting the show of temper. "Brian, if we miss our chance and something happens to her because I was tired or hungry... I'm about this far from losing it. If I stop now, I will. I have to see if I can get a step closer to Castelano. At least let me do that."
Brian sat back and sighed. "You're stubborn, you know that?"
"Like you can talk."
Brian rested his head back and turned to him. "You're not in good shape, Dom. How do we know that whoever's at the jewelry store won't be ready for a throwdown?"
"We don't."
Dom rubbed his face. Every time they talked about it, he wasn't sure he could keep it together. Or maybe it was because Brian kept trying to be supportive about it -- the attempt at being positive was almost too much to take. He was used to having to tough it out himself, to being the one in charge, the strong one, only able to lean on others in the most superficial way. Having Brian shoring him up like this was not just foreign, it was emotionally draining. He just didn't know how to be taken care of. How to be shown that kind of tenderness.
As he sat there trying to get a grip on himself, Brian leaned over and put his hand on Dom's shoulder. "We'll go there, but you have to promise me that afterwards, whatever we find out, we go home."
Dom slid his hand over Brian's and just held it there. He looked up at Brian and they watched each other for a while, listening to the sounds of traffic passing by. He felt more connected to Brian right now than he could remember feeling with anyone else since his dad, and even the weirdness of the night before wasn't ruining this sense of closeness. Brian's mere presence was like a balm and Dom wasn't entirely sure what to make of that.
Then he heard a kid outside the window give a snorting, sneering laugh and say, "Freakin' faggots." It was like a switch had been flipped. He threw the door open and started for the kid, who was suddenly quite alarmed when he saw Dom's size and bolted, skateboard in hand.
"What did you say?" Dom asked in his scary voice, the one he used to terrorize the neighborhood brats into behaving. The kid was not looking where he was going and ran right into Brian. With one quick motion Brian twisted the kid's arm around behind his back and clipped his feet out from under him, slamming him onto the hood of the car.
Dom repeated his question as the kid whined and thrashed, then pulled him up by the hair. Typical smartass stoner teenager. Dom backhanded him across the face, but Brian grabbed Dom's hand as he made another swing, pushing him away. "Dom!" he shouted, and shoved the kid off sideways. "Get a grip! Jesus, will you just chill?" He pointed a finger in the direction of the street and shouted at the kid, "LAPD, asshole, get the fuck out of here before I arrest you." The kid seemed to finally get that he'd stepped into something much more serious than he could have guessed; he sprinted away making comments about faggot cops, and Brian rounded on Dom.
"What the hell is wrong with you?"
"Sorry," Dom said with absolutely no conviction. Brian wanted to smack him upside the head.
"You could get us arrested. Bystanders see two guys beating up some kid in a Del Taco parking lot and no black-and-whites around, they're going to be calling 911. Don't put us in this kind of trouble just because some dumbshit makes stupid remarks."
Dom shook his head and got back in the car, fuming, but at least he wasn't hitting anything. God, he was such a fucking hothead that sometimes Brian wondered how he'd managed to live to this age at all. Someone, somewhere should have busted a cap on him years ago or stuck him in a street fight.
When Brian started the engine he stared straight ahead, hands twisting over the wheel. "Look, I'm sorry. I know that embarrassed you, but you gotta let crap like that slide. We have way more important shit to be getting upset about. Where are we going?"
Dom reached beneath the seat and pulled out a map. "Near West Hollywood. Off Melrose."
"Christ, we're gonna end up covering Los Angeles county by the time we're done."
It didn't really bother him that Dom stayed silent the whole drive. He was running out of patience anyway. It took a lot to get Brian to want to walk away or pick a fight, and somehow Dom had managed to make him feel both ways in the span of a couple hours. He wasn't even sure if it was some kind of problem with the two of them, if this was all a hangover from the night before.
Yet he couldn't walk away, Brian knew that. He was too far gone, and he felt it in his bones: the same sense of resignation he'd had in the interrogation room the day it had all blown apart. A small dark voice in the back of his head warned him that once this was all done, he might never see Dom again. That he would never have access to this life, to the world he wanted to live in. So he couldn't turn away, even to give a miss to the exasperating crap. Everything, every moment, with Dominic counted right now.
They found the collection of shops near Melrose and parked. Brian scoped out the storefront for a while before letting Dom get out of the car. Something about the lack of activity in the area bothered him, he said, but he couldn't put a finger on it.
Inside they found a blond woman behind the counter. It definitely wasn't much of a jewelry store -- nothing spectacular stood out, what was there was mostly the same kind of merchandise you'd see at a mall store catering to young kids freshly engaged. When she asked, "Can I help you... gentlemen?" Brian pushed past her, and a door marked Private near the back hallway opened. A short, dark-haired man with the style of a total Guido came out, straightening his tie. He knew exactly what they were there for and tried to appear intimidating by puffing out his chest and shooting his cuffs, but the idea of it almost made Dom laugh.
"Where's Berto?" Dom asked gruffly.
"I don't know what you mean--" but he didn't get to finish his sentence because Dom grabbed his collar and hauled him into the room he'd just come out of. It hurt his shoulder something fierce, but he didn't really give a shit. Now he was pumped full of adrenaline and ready to get this over with. He shoved him into the chair.
"I want to know where Alberto Castelano is. Where's he hiding?"
Brian closed the door behind them and stood in front of it, crossing his arms over his chest. For white bread, he didn't do too bad at styling himself the hired help when he needed to.
"What's your name?" Brian asked.
Dom wondered if he really expected an answer, or if he was trying to play good cop, bad cop.
"Mr. Castelano's not here."
"No shit," Brian said with a harsh laugh. "Got any other startling information?"
"Fuck you." Dom stepped toward him, leaning forward, hand out, as if he was going to punch him. The guy flinched, leaning back. "I know who you are. You're the con who's jacking those electronics rigs. Trust me, Castelano doesn't want to see you now, not since you fucked up and brought everything down on him."
Dom hated when it came to using weapons, but nothing would motivate a guy like this to talk except fear. He slid his hand into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out a switchblade, though he didn't flick it open. Now the guy was paying attention.
"Then you probably know I'm just an ex-con rent-a-thug whose only success in life is street racing a bunch of kids with tricked-out cars. And that I don't have much of a future, so I'm not all that concerned with throwing it away over messing someone up for information."
The guy looked at Brian, then at Dom. "You wouldn't use that."
"No?" He turned to Brian. "What do you think, Brian? Would I use this?"
The last thing Brian wanted to do was show how distinctly freaked out he was in front of this guy, but he was: totally, completely wigged about Dom having a weapon of any kind, especially considering the state he was in.
Brian tried a cool shrug. He didn't think it came off, though.
"See?" Dom said. "Even my friend doesn't trust me." He flicked the blade open.
"I don't know where he is. I'm only in contact with him by phone."
Brian scoffed at that. "Bullshit. You're running the back end, you know where he lives, where he parks his car, where he goes for pussy. Save yourself some trouble."
"What are you afraid of?" Dom asked. "You're out of it. All I'm asking is to talk with him."
"Gregory's plenty to be afraid of. He's already been sniffing around, wanting answers, looking for the missing money. And the fuckers who work for him don't carry little blades, either. I'll take my chances."
Dom laughed, that weird, dark laugh he did sometimes, and it never failed to disturb Brian. As much as he believed Dom was a good guy at heart, there was a scary, black place he could go to. Brian was fully aware he had only begun to see that side of Dom. "You're afraid of some guys who might not even show up. Gregory's got my sister until I pay him back what I owe, so I'm... what do you call it? Motivated."
"You got no clue who you're dealing with. These people are insane motherfuckers. And I'm not just talking about his inner circle of old world buddies. I'm talking about the street punk shitheads he hires for dirty work."
Dom held his arms out dramatically, just the way he'd done in front of Brian a half-dozen times before. "There you go. We should just give up, since they're such scary guys."
"You think you're such hot shit, Toretto. You're nothing, you got nothing. Whatever you think you can do, it's nothing like what they'll do. They're ten times worse."
"Oh, I don't know," Brian said. "I can think of lots of things he could do to you. Dom kind of gets out of control." He gave a dramatic shiver. "Messy."
"See, I'm a grief-crazed Italian. With a switchblade." He leaned in again, sticking the edge of the blade under the guy's jaw.
"And you think that's as scary as a bunch of coked-up thugs with Glocks?"
"Oh, yeah." Dom's voice got really quiet, and he spoke methodically. "See, those guys? Some brother or chulo with a gat, they'll just shoot your ass. It's over like that." He snapped his fingers loudly in front of the guy's face to make him jump. "But me? I'm a grief-crazed Italian with a blade. Go all sick-house on you, make it last. Spend some time cutting nice intricate patterns on your skin till I get bored and then I'll slice into it and peel it back from you like you're fruit. In fact, I'm wondering if I can do it all in one... long... strip. What do you think?" He ran the edge along the guy's neck, drawing a thin line of blood. Brian closed his eyes.
"All right! All right!" The guy's hand flew to his neck. "He'll be at the store tomorrow. The antique dealer. He has a package to pick up, a deal from customs that he can't beg off on." He drew his hand away and stared at his blood-smeared palm.
"See, now that was easy. And you're going to be extra friendly, right, and not mention we were here? Because now that we know," Dom pulled out the paper that King had given him, "your address, phone numbers, license number and, oh hey, maybe this is a girlfriend's number? Tiffany? Now that we're pals, be really easy to pay a return visit."
As they left he screamed at them, "He's not going to tell you anything! You're nothing compared to them, nothing!"
They just kept walking, letting him work off his rage. He'd be too busy sweating and wondering if he should just skip town, so it wasn't much of a worry whether or not he'd come clean to Castelano.
But when they got in the car Brian turned on Dom and yelled at him, "What the fuck is wrong with you? Where the hell did you get that blade?"
"It was in the glove box."
"You've been carrying it around all this time? Jesus, Dom, did you not get the message that you're not supposed to be carrying weapons of any kind around?" Brian ran his fingers through his hair, tugging at it. "Fuck me. I can't believe I'm stupid enough to hook up with someone as self-destructively idiotic as you and try to help. You really are everything they said."
For some reason that seemed to get through to Dom. "Fear is the only thing you can use against someone like that."
"There's other ways to get what you want. Jesus."
"No, Brian, not in this world there isn't."
Dom turned away and Brian put the car in gear. They drove back to Dom's house in steaming silence, but the long drive gave them both time to calm down.
There was a part of Dom that wanted to explain everything to Brian, to try to make him understand just how he'd found himself in this world, but he didn't really know what to say. Brian was a still a cop, still believed in the right causes, and he didn't know how to make him understand that this wasn't what he wanted, just what he'd found it necessary to do.
By the time they got near Dom's neighborhood, he glanced over and said, "I'm sorry."
"For what? Being a switchblade-wielding psycho, or for making me drive around in this heinous traffic all day?" There was a hint of a smile when he said it, though.
"For all of this. For... this world. You must be disappointed by everything. By me. You arrest the people we've seen today. You arrest people like me. This is... my world whether I wanted it or not, I guess, and I'm sorry that you have to see it."
Brian pulled in to the driveway. There was still crime scene tape everywhere and the front door was cordoned off. "I knew that going in." He killed the engine. "And it's not your world. You're more than this. But you have to... you have got to step back. You're gonna forget that you are more and do something stupid. You have the worst temper I've ever seen on a human being, but you're not a bad guy."
"If I was a good guy, we wouldn't be here, would we?"
Brian opened Dom's door again and they both went around to the back of the house. The door had been closed, but it wasn't locked. There were things scattered around the porch, though there was no obvious sign of break-in. Brian went in carefully and edged his way in to the kitchen, not certain he wanted Dom to see it if things looked really bad. But they didn't: just a few overturned items on the counter, a chair on the floor, some food still out on the table. Dom came in behind him, stone-faced and silent. Brian wasn't sure which side of him was creepier -- psycho killer or dead-to-the-world guy. They made their way carefully through the house, Dom picking up anything that was turned over, flipping on a light here and there.
"Let's go upstairs. I really want you to get some sleep. I'll go out and get some food and clean things up here. Please. You really need some rest."
It looked like Dom was going to try to fight him at first, but then he seemed to just crumble in front of Brian, nodding, allowing Brian to steer him upstairs to his bed. He sat down and took off his jacket, tossing it on a chair, and then rubbed a hand over his head. "Maybe this wasn't such a great idea."
"I know. It seems like it, but... let's just stick to the plan." As he walked out the door, Brian said over his shoulder, "Sleep, or I'll come back and use that blade on you myself."
Brian felt like he was about at the same place Dom was, and that he might collapse at any given moment. He went into Mia's room. One of her shirts was on the unmade bed, but there were no signs of struggle or leaving in a hurry. He checked all the rooms downstairs, but no signs there, either, nor any real clues to her time of disappearance. At least it didn't look like any weapons were used. Dialing Tanner's number, he sat down on the couch, remembering all the times he'd sat here with Dom and Letty and everyone else, watching TV, playing video games. Remembering Jesse doing lines from his favorite movies. After four rings Brian got Tanner's voice mail, so he left a short message that they were back and so far, nothing, but that he had hopes for tomorrow. He didn't ask about the tail.
When Dom woke up he was confused for a minute about where he was. The last few days seemed like a big blur of unfamiliar and familiar places and he had a hard time adjusting to the fact that he was in his own bed again. It had gotten dark while he'd slept and it was quiet in the house, so he assumed Brian had gone out. He took a piss, splashed some water on his face, and really looked at himself for the first time in a while. Bruises still vivid, dark circles under his eyes. He looked like someone who shouldn't be walking around.
No wonder Brian had freaked out about his behavior -- he knew just what Dom was capable of doing, and since Dom was so clearly at the end of his rope, there was no guarantee that he was even on the same side of the court as sane anymore. Freaking was a pretty goddamn mild response.
Dom went into Mia's room and picked up the shirt that was laying on the bed, twisted it around in his hands, then sat down. The room smelled of that perfume she loved, of hairspray and clean laundry. Of Mia. Even though it didn't look like anything had happened to her here, he was still miserable thinking of the possibilities. Knowing the damage he had allowed to be inflicted upon her.
No matter what Brian wanted him to believe, this was his fault. Every step he'd taken along the way in the years since his father's death had led here, and anything could happen to Mia now. Jesse's blood was on his hands, too, and he wasn't sure how to cope with that, to have it make sense.
He was still sitting there holding her shirt in his hands, when Brian came in. But it was a long time before he came upstairs, and when he did, Dom hadn't moved. It felt like he was walking through water, so slow and weighted down he couldn't get anywhere no matter how hard he tried. It was easier just to sit down, give up.
"Hey," Brian said when he came in. "I was expecting you to be sleeping." He leaned against the door, crossing his arms over his chest.
"I was. Just... woke up and everything felt kind of weird." Which made no sense at all of course, but Dom had no idea what else to say.
"I get that."
"It looks like any other day, like she just changed her mind about what to wear and then took off. She never did make her bed or put her clothes away. Drove Dad nuts. He could never figure out how it was that his son was the tidy, responsible one and his daughter was the slob."
Brian chuckled. "I never knew that."
Dom looked up at him. Of course Brian wouldn't know that; how much did they know about each other at all? Despite some of the things that Brian had told him in the past few days, they didn't know each other, not really. Brian had seen some of Dom's world today and Dom was pretty sure he hadn't exactly loved it; Dom only knew the surface aspects of Brian's life, not what made him a cop, what made him want to do the things he did. But that had always been the weird thing: from the moment he'd first met Brian, he felt that he knew him. Like they'd been part of each other's lives forever. Even when he'd found out Brian was a cop, it was as if the worst part was that he should have known, because Brian had always been part of his life.
Dom rose and picked up some of the things on her dresser, put them down. He closed a necklace in his shaking fist, trying to get some control of himself; then he sat back hard on the bed, head down.
Brian sat next to him. "It's a beautiful necklace." It was an elegant ivory oval with a small gold cross on top. It looked very old.
"Mama gave it to her shortly before she died. Her grandmother had given it to her. Mia hardly ever wore it because she was always afraid of losing it."
"How did your mother die?"
"Uhh... it was childbirth. Hard to believe, but... she had a lot of miscarriages after me. Then Mia came along, and even though that was a tough pregnancy, for a while I think they thought God had smiled on them again. But then she had more, and... she was never the same after that, really. Weak and just kind of sad all the time, even though she loved us. That whole big Catholic family thing... I don't know. The last one looked like it was going to be okay, but the baby died right before she was due. I had a baby brother but he died, and so did my mother. Complications, they said, but sometimes I wondered if she was just too beaten down by it all."
"God, Dom, I'm so sorry."
"It's harder when you're a kid. You don't understand what's going on and all you can do is worry and be afraid. I think Mia thought it was her fault. Like she was what brought it on. I was older and could take care of Mia, but... I couldn't take care of my mother. Or my father, really. He kind of disappeared inside himself for a long time, but the racing... uhh, it kind of brought him back eventually. But all of that... forced me to grow up before I should have. It was just my job to take care of everyone."
Brian knew what Dom was thinking -- that he hadn't taken care of Mia, in the same way he hadn't taken care of his mother or Jesse, and now she was missing. Nothing he could say would ease Dom's guilt. Now that he understood what other burdens Dom had been carrying all these years, he knew that his words were hollow.
After all this time Dom was finally breaking down -- the way his hands shook, the way his mouth was pinched in a tight line. He'd been teetering on the edge of losing reality all day, and now it was like his emotional core was giving way, crumpling underneath him.
"Hey," Brian said and put his palm to Dom's cheek. Dom didn't even flinch or pull away, just acted like it was normal. "I know you think all this is your fault, and that you screwed it up. But what you did and what you are... those aren't the same things. Bad choices don't equal a bad person. I know that if you could, you'd trade places with every single person who's been hurt in this thing."
"You saw what my world is today. If I could have, I'd have killed that guy to get what I wanted. We didn't even find out his name, but I'd have iced him if it put me one step closer to Mia. You've seen what I am, Brian, you know I'm not a good guy."
"Yeah, I did see all that today. But I know a thing or two about people, and I know you have a good heart. I can see it in the way you talk about Mia, about your mother. I saw it in the way you took care of Jesse and the rest of the team. I'd never waste my time on someone bad, Dom. Never."
Dom shook his head, and he was obviously fighting back tears, so Brian pulled his head into the crook of his neck, slipped an arm around Dom's back. He'd never done anything like this in his life, but now seemed like the time to go for broke. He knew guys like Dom, how hard it was for them to give an inch and let themselves look weak or needy. The fact that he was letting Brian see him so vulnerable meant more than Brian could even acknowledge; he knew the significance of such a thing because he had so rarely done it himself.
"I'm sorry, Dom. I'm really sorry about all of this. If I'd just said something earlier, if I'd only thought it through... I should have never left Mia alone."
Dom's hand rested on his hip, but it didn't feel at all like the night before. Brian smoothed his hand over the back of Dom's head. It was terrifying to feel this way, to touch someone like this, to be touched by them. Something way beyond any romantic or sexual encounters he'd had.
Brian wanted to deny this, wished that this wasn't what he felt, especially after the crazy swings of behavior Dom had exhibited today. But he knew now that this was everything he'd feared and wanted: he was in love with Dominic, too much in love to back out no matter what face he showed him.
When Dom pulled away he rubbed at his eyes with the heel of his palm and gave Brian a weak smile. But Brian didn't take his hand away from his face, instead he rested his forehead against Dom's. "I bet Mia would be glad if you slept here. You need to rest some more and if it helps, stay here with her things. That would make her smile. I picked up some food but it'll keep for later."
"Okay. Just... be here when I wake up."
"Not going anywhere, dumbass. I already told you that." He pulled away and they both smiled.
"I don't know why you're still here, but I'm grateful. More than you know."
"I do know. Believe me."
Dom nodded. "I do. This time, I do."
End Part 3
11/28/04
My gorgeous cover art by M'lyn. Please do not take or distribute in any way.