Letty remembered getting angry.

At Dom for sending her home; for thinking he was too dangerous for her to be around him anymore.

At The Cop for fucking up her family; for fucking up their world; for betraying them, even if he did let Dom go…

At Mia for falling in love with The Cop.

Dom, again, for letting him into their world…

Sometimes she let herself wonder just how much of what The Cop told the Team was the truth, an' how much of it was bona fide bullshit. She guessed it didn't really matter much anymore. Dom didn' want her anymore, he'd made that much crystal clear before she'd left Mexico…

Going on almost ten years, they'd been together, and as soon as the cops got really close, he'd sent her packing.

Straight to Him and then into Braga's drug cartel, that's where he'd sent her packing. And things had been okay…for a while…until Braga decided he didn't trust any of his drivers, shot 'em all. When she'd tried to run, she'd lost control of her car and it burst into flames after Braga's thug, Felix, turned it into a bullet-riddled tin can.

Then she woke up in a States-side hospital and found herself being interrogated by Feds—and Him—offering her a fresh start if she told them what they wanted to know.

It turned out that even eight years after the fact, they still had no idea who masterminded the truck hijackings. So she'd told them. Every stupid-as-fuck detail…how Johnny Tran had come after them with a bullshit beef saying that if they didn't pay up, he'd narc them all out for illegal drag racing. Dom had vowed he'd never go back to prison…not ever…so even after all the fighting and arguments with her and Mia, Dom had still accepted the bargain. And like an idiot, Letty'd gone along with it.

After six months in a safe house, constantly surrounded by feds, they'd finally nailed the Trans and the Nguyens for the hijackings, even though Johnny and Lance were both dead and buried.

So here she was, living in the desert, only going as far as the nearest town to restock on food supplies. And maybe see Vince. If he wasn't still pissed at her at the particular moment she chose to come into town.

His arm had been mangled so badly in the 'accident' that the tattoo he'd had there was just barely distinguishable amidst all the scarring. Letty knew he was still pissed at Dominic, but it wasn't like she didn't know why.

Leon left in the middle of the night the same day Dom met up with them, no sign of Mia or either of their friends to speak of.

Dom had been in Mexico a week before he uttered the first word about Jesse.

Dead.

Vince was another story altogether.

We're dead t'him.

The words still rang fresh in Letty's ears, like she'd only just heard them…

God only knew where Leon was now, and Letty wasn't really sure she cared to find out. Her world now was engines, detailing an' trying to forget just how different her world was now, from middle-of-the-night races, all-night parties and family barbecues to a legitimate nine-to-five job that kept the bills paid and the cops away from her doorstep.

Sometimes, if she stopped what she was doing long enough and listened hard enough, she could almost swear she heard the purr of engines—their engines—in the distance. But she knew it was crazy. She was alone in the desert…the part of her life devoted to beautiful cars, supped up engines and NOS was over.

This was her life.

Her home out in the middle of the desert, her shop, her life…finally, she had something that didn't revolve around him

Here, she was Letty Marciano …not Letty Marciano, Dominic Toretto's woman. She was her own person, not just somebody's girlfriend

She was a business woman. She'd learned more than her share of how to run a business from years of watching Tony run the garage to run her shop without too many hitches.

Her life now was taking care of Piggy, Charleyan' Lucy.

Pig was the oldest of her dogs…she'd found him at the pound, two days from being put down because he'd been there for so long and nobody wanted him…Charley and Lucy had been strays…like Leon and Jesse had been…