Taking Delivery
Rated R for a sexual situation.
Dominic Toretto rubbed his forearm and frowned slightly, noticing that the skin was over-warm and sensitive. He'd been driving with his elbow hanging out of the window of the truck, not realizing that he'd been burning. Snorting with annoyance, he reached across the seat for the blue, long-sleeved shirt with which he would now have to cover up in spite of the heat. It wasn't even mid-day, yet. Going to he a hot one.
He took a swig from a water bottle but screwed up his nose because it had heated up in the sunlight and brought his dry mouth little relief. Never mind; he was ahead of schedule and due for a break anyway. He promised himself a cold one from the next diner he reached. A glance at his map confirmed that he wouldn't have to drive much further before he could get himself cleaned up and something to eat and drink. Driving all night was not conducive to a sweet-smelling body.
The lot outside the diner was already beginning to fill up with a few lunch-timers as he maneuvered his truck and trailer onto it. His tyres crunched on the gritty surface and tossed up a sandy cloud, but he paid his cargo, the basic shell of a car and a crate of parts, little mind. This wasn't his car and it was never going to be. He was just making a delivery, probably to someone with another new, passing and expensive hobby. It would likely stand half-finished in some garage until someone like him came to take it all away again.
Dominic stretched and rubbed a hand into the back of his sweating neck, then strode to the washrooms at the back. The thick second-hand aroma of fried food and coffee blasted at him through the vents as he passed the outlet.
He didn't mind his job. It gave him space and time to think, although he was aware that he spent far too much time on his own; working alone, living alone, sometimes getting drunk alone. Getting sour and missing them. Yes, he missed his team. He lamented the loss of their company and he still worried about them, but all things change and now he only had himself to look out for. That gave him little comfort.
As he ate his breakfast, he leafed, idly through a newspaper, straining to read it at times because the sun coming through the blind cast brilliant strands of light across it. Someone had been killed during a street race and there was an interview with a police chief who was clamping down on the activity, but Dominic only glanced over it. No point in reading it.
The woman who brought his iced tea raised her voice at a younger waitress who was just picking up the phone. “Just clean off those end tables, then you can talk to him for as long as you like with a clear conscience!” She was chastising the girl but Dominic noticed that she was smiling as she did it; then she looked down again and smiled at him, compelling him to smile back and as he did so it occurred to him that he hadn’t smiled in quite a while.
The late afternoon sun flickered, golden through the trees as Dominic made his delivery right on schedule. Now he had the long drive home to look forward to but having driven for most of the night. He’d only snatched only a catnap in the afternoon and knew he wouldn’t be going far tonight.
After moving along as far as he dared without dozing off at the wheel, he blinked his hot, heavy eyes and pulled the truck over on a quiet stretch of road to sleep for a while. The cab was too small for him to stretch out his legs and he spent a long time trying to get them comfortable before weariness claimed his body. His mind, as always, resisted.
Mia was doing her homework at the table in the yard, Letty and Leon were putting an engine block back together outside the garage and Vince and Jesse were having an animated conversation under the hood of Vince’s car. Jesse was safe. Dominic smiled as he watched them from the steps to the house – his team, his family. To him this was a scene of domestic bliss. He was at peace.
A trail bike buzzed around the corner and halted across the street from the house. It should have been Johnny Tran but the black crash helmet, once removed, revealed Brian who smiled at Dominic then called, silently to Mia. Vince unfolded himself from beneath the hood of his car and strode slowly toward Brian. He was yelling but Dominic couldn’t hear what he was saying.
Mia ran out in front and extended her arm toward her brother. “Dominic, will you get out there? I’m sick of this shit! Her voice jarred at something inside of him and his skin felt hot suddenly. Vince turned toward him, his voice reaching him, finally. “You don’t know this fool, Dom!”
Dominic wanted them to be quiet because he liked it on the steps in the cool golden glow, but as he tried to walk down them to mediate, the steps turned to sand and mired his legs.
“Dominic, I am so sorry!” Jesse was suddenly imploring him. There was blood on his shirt but Dominic wanted to tell him that it was ok, not to be afraid. Then it was Letty before him. She was bleeding too, shaking her head in disapproval.
A high pitched whine stuck in his gritty throat as he tried to tell them all to shut up. All the while his skin was getting hotter. Flames rose all around him as the NOS tanks ruptured, barring his path to the others. His father’s strangled cry came to him through the flames but still the sound was trapped somewhere within him. If he could just let the sound come out then he would know. He would know that it wasn’t his father, but him. It was he who was screaming.
Salt burned the tip of Dominic’s tongue as he passed it across his upper lip, but the rest of him lay, motionless, staring at the pale moon. He’d been vaguely aware of the heavy truck passing, flooding his cab with light as it rumbled by. It had, in fact, stirred him from his nightmare and for that he was grateful but he was still tired. No need to move yet, though.
For long moments he just lay there and blinked, wondering why he felt so empty and uncomfortable. It was too quiet.
He sat up, suddenly, jarring several muscles in his haste to turn on the stereo, eager to fill the hostile silence. He sighed and forced his body to relax before turning on the ignition and heading for the diner where he’d eaten his breakfast. Hopefully, he would make it before closing but it was already past eleven.
Darkness had cooled the air, considerably. In fact, he shivered, slightly as the sweat of a tormented sleep evaporated from his body, leaving him feeling weak and starved. A hot meal and some coffee was what he needed, and then he could go home.
As he slowed in front of the diner, Dominic could see that the lot was deserted and only dim lights glowed from within the low building. Fuck, there goes dinner. He’d been about to accelerate and get under way again when he noticed a car parked alongside the washroom entrance. The hood was open and a figure hunched over the engine but straightened at the sound of his truck. Not being one to pass by when someone was in trouble, Dominic turned onto the lot, his headlights glaring at the lone traveler who shielded her eyes as he approached. He recognized the woman who’d served his coffee.
She stepped around the side of the truck. “I didn’t expect you to get here so quickly, I…” The woman paused and looked confused, momentarily but then she smiled. “Didn’t I see you earlier today?”
“Yes, you did.” Dominic answered, quietly, smiling his forgotten smile again.
“I’ve called for a rescue truck. I thought you were it…but…”
“Well, I came to get some dinner…but…” he echoed her tone.
She shook her head and frowned. “Aww, but I closed already. I’m sorry.”
Dom was already out of the truck and taking a look under the hood of her car.
“I’ll fix you some dinner if you can fix my car and get me home,” she suggested.
He looked up at her and saw that she was still smiling. How come she smiled like that and so easily? The empty feeling in his belly persuaded him that her proposition wasn’t to be dismissed so he grabbed some tools from the truck and set to work under the security light.
He was content with the accompaniment of her musical chitchat as he checked the hoses and the distributor cap. A human voice was welcome, today. She told him that her name was Eleanor; that she’d worked in her daddy’s diner since leaving school, more years ago than she cared to mention. Now it was her diner…
Actually, much of what she said passed him by, for he wasn’t so much listening to her words as to her voice. It was soft, gentle and friendly. She was totally at ease with herself and in no hurry to impress. Dominic had grown tired of certain social rituals, especially those which involved impressing others. It seemed most of his life he’d been surrounded by people who wanted to get his attention, either by kissing up to him or by challenging him. Those who got close often embarrassed him or let him down because they just wanted to profit in some way from knowing him. It was a shallow dance and he was tired of it. He was grateful he didn’t have to do it any more.
“I suppose I could have walked home,” Eleanor said as she pulled more stones from her open-toed shoes. “It’s only a couple of miles but the batteries in my flashlight are dead. Not really safe on this road.”
“OK, try her, now,” Dominic said.
She didn’t seem to mind that he hadn’t really been listening. She sat behind the wheel, fired up the ignition and beamed as the engine kicked in first time. “Yes! Thank you.”
Dominic’s face dropped as she pulled forward. She was leaving. She’d promised him dinner for fixing her car and she was leaving! Shit!
Eleanor leaned out of the window and indicated left down the lane. “It’s just a couple of miles down that way but you’ll need to follow closely because the entrance isn’t too visible.”
“What?” Dominic looked bewildered and pointed at the diner. “But, I thought…”
“Hell, I’m not going back to cook in there after I spent the last couple of hours cleaning down the range, come on!” She paused at the exit, and Dom was compelled to follow. He guessed it was dinner at her place.
He wasn’t sure what to expect; dinner with the family maybe. He didn't relish the idea of making small talk, not in his present mood and not with his disheveled appearance.
However, the only light shining in the house at the end of the lane was from the lantern on the front porch. There was nobody home.
Dominic noticed just a few things about the log cabin: the smell of wood preserver, which tingled in his throat, the smoothness of the scrubbed wooden table in the kitchen and the soft glow from the small lamps. Then, there was the quiet. It was so quiet. He felt little compulsion to break it though, for Eleanor’s melodic soliloquy danced across it, effortlessly. She showed him where to wash up, served him a rich beef stew, hot from the oven, with nuked jacket potatoes, then she put on some background music and joined him at the table.
He watched her animated face as she talked and he noticed how the lines around her eyes deepened when she smiled, but hadn’t noticed what colour they were. Her skin was pale and she had masses of hair, but he would only remember that it smelled vaguely of cooking. She smiled a lot and he smiled back. She talked to him and he talked back. He drank the beer she gave him and abandoned the idea of driving home, even though it would mean another night in his truck, but so what?
Hot food and alcohol warmed and mellowed them. The conversation slowed but there were no uncomfortable silences. Instead, Dominic relaxed in his chair, listening to the woman’s sweet voice on the stereo. It was too quiet for him to make out any of the lyrics but the interpretation was soulful and expressive. The melody could only be described as tragic.
He sat back while Eleanor cleared the dishes from the table. From the wistful expression on her face, he knew that she had stopped talking because she was listening to the music, too. She may have even hummed it, softly.
He leaned forward and put his elbows on the table, resting his chin on his fists and feeling the two-day growth on his face. Then sound became his sole focus. The music permeated everything as the vocalist escalated the melody into a melodrama. A lump caught in his throat and it became impossible to swallow and difficult to breathe.
“Are you alright?”
Eleanor stood beside him and he looked up at her, feeling ashamed and foolish but resigned in the knowledge that he had no prospect of concealing the tears. They sprung from his eyes and soaked his cheeks. Was he all right? She really did want to know if he was all right. His lips tightened and he shook his head, helplessly and implored her with his eyes.
She reached out her hand to take his tight, tear-wet fist from beneath his chin and placed an arm around his shoulder, then he buried his face into her soft belly where he grunted out his sobs, soaking the dress she’d changed into. A soft hand stroked his head and neck whilst he wound his arms around her waist and pulled himself deeper into the comforting warmth.
“That’s it…” Eleanor whispered.
It was significant that she hadn’t shushed him. He didn’t want to be shushed and he was tired of being strong. Dominic would have gratefully drifted off to sleep in the safety of her embrace, had she cradled him for long enough, but when the jolts from his sobs subsided, he felt himself being eased away and a tissue stroked the wetness from his cheeks. He melted into her kind smile and reached for her wrists, pulling her arms around him as his lips pressed against hers.
They undressed, silently in the doorway to her bedroom, not bothering to turn on the light. Eleanor was all softness and whispers as his tentative fingers stroked her. On the bed he became lost in the cool silk of her limbs and the warm wetness of her depths. There was no tugging, no pulling, no longing. There was only her soft mouth tasting him and her welcoming body, rocking him, until she shuddered her soft cry beneath him and coaxed the warm fire, gratefully out of him. He slept peacefully with her back spooned against his belly.
The road shimmered silver because the rain had started to fall, but Dominic Toretto smiled as he tucked into one of Eleanor’s sandwiches. How perceptive she’d been to know that he wouldn’t stick around for breakfast?
There were a few miles to catch up on to make his time, but he wasn’t too concerned. The truck gave a throaty roar as he accelerated, then he cranked up the radio and began to sing…
END
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