(n.) the perfect, delicate, crucial moment; the fleeting rightness of time and place that creates the opportune atmosphere for action, words, or movement.
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PART ONE: The Fast and The Furious
PART TWO: Fast & Furious
PART THREE: Fast Five
& cont...
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I checked my appearance in my mirror once more as I got out of my car as Dom pulled up next to me. I smirked as I immediately noticed all of the men's eyes on me, even after five years I still had my touch.
"Toretto's?"
I turned around at the woman's words as Dom came up beside me. I nodded and she smirked, "Follow me."
Dom and I looked at one another before following her and her posse of boys that followed her around. We followed her past a security detail and up a set of stairs. I walked behind Dom as I saw a man hitting balls into a net. The man was Mexican and fairly short, but I assumed he held a lot of power. I stopped next Dom and followed his gaze to see- Brian. His eyes connected with mine as my breath caught in my throat. I quickly looked away and back at the man in front of us.
"You all know why you're here. Good drivers are a dime a dozen. Every corner's got a chingadera racing for pinks. That's not what Braga's got me looking for. Braga wants someone that would sell their abuelita to be behind the wheel." The man golfing said as I smirked.
He turned around to look at us, "Someone who drives their ten-second cars a straight line but to push it and take it all the places no one else will take it. Real drivers."
"So what're we hauling?" Dom asked from beside me, a slight smirk on his lips.
"For the money Braga's paying, you don't need to know." The man said looking at my brother and I.
"You just said you wanted real drivers. A real driver knows exactly what's in his car." Dom deadpanned as I smirked up at him.
The man took a swig of his beer as he slightly smirked at Dom's words. The dark skinned man next to us stood up and glared at Dom, "Real Driver nobody's forcing you to race."
The man was littered with tattoos and had a short mohawk. Dom narrowed his eyes, "You the boss? Or am I talking to the boss?"
I smirked as the guy was taken aback and I even saw the girl who'd led us here smile slightly. The man's glare intensified, "Do I look like a boss?"
"My job is to find the best drivers, period. Whoever wins the race gets the info. We cool?" The man asked Dom.
I saw the woman handing each racer a device. She stood in front of Dom as he said, "Yeah, we're cool."
She handed the device to Dom as the man's eyes shifted to me and he looked me up and down, "What're you doing here sweetheart?"
