"Dom, there's something I need to talk to you about," I said, leaning against a table nearby where he was working.

Han had let him get his hands into some of his cars and it was the best way that Dom knew of to distract himself. Mia was with Letty so she hadn't been able to protest at my being out of bed.

"What's up?" Dom asked, keeping his eyes on the car.

"Mia needs to go home."

"You know we can't do that."

"We can find a way. We need to. For Mia," I said firmly. "She needs the comfort of a place she knows. And there is no way that we're going to raise a kid like this; constantly moving around from place to place in fear of people hunting us down."

"Brian, you know the second that either of us sets foot over the border, we'll be arrested," Dom said, putting down the wrench and the rag that he was holding. "And then it's 25 years to life. Don't get me wrong, it's a sacrifice I'm willing to make for my sister, and I don't doubt that you would make it too. But do you really think that Mia would let us do that? She'd rather spend her entire life running than be without either of us."

"She wants the family back, sitting eating in the backyard, watching us work on cars, living in a trailer for the race wars weekends. She wants our old life back, minus the illegal activities," I said. "I want to be able to give that to her. Maybe I can work out a deal with the government or something. But I have to try."

"It's a mistake," he replied.

He turned back to fiddling with the engine. I knew he was probably right, but I hated seeing Mia unhappy. I knew she was trying to hide it. And she was hiding it better than Letty was, but still.

Mia walked out into the garage at that moment.

"What are you two talking about?" she asked.

She crossed to my side and put an arm around my waist.

"Old times," I said with a smile. "And horrible tuna sandwiches."

She laughed. I loved hearing that sound more than anything else. A close second was the purr of an engine. She leaned into me and kissed me along my jawline.

"It wasn't a bad neighborhood," Mia said. "And it was fun to go street racing once in awhile. I prefer that to all the guns and car chases that happen now."

Dom and I exchanged a glance but stayed silent.

"Maybe one day we'll go back," she mentioned, attempting to sound casual.

I could hear the longing in her voice. So could Dom.

"Promise me you'll come inside and rest in a couple minutes?" Mia asked. "I don't want you injuring yourself again."

I nodded and kissed her before watching her walk back inside. Dom just looked at me for a couple of seconds.

"I'll call a few people and see what I can do," he said finally.

My phone started ringing and I stepped away to answer it.

"Brian O'Connor."

"Who is this?" I demanded.

"Believe me, this is the last conversation I would like to be having right now," the gruff voice on the line said. "I have a proposal for you. And it would mean full pardon for you and Toretto if you can pull it off."

"How do I know that you can even guarantee that?" I said. "Is this some kind of joke?"

"I work for the DSS, and yes, I can guarantee that. My name is Hobbs. And you're not going to like the alternative to my proposal."

"What do you mean?"

I was nervous, but I tried not to let it show in my voice. The DSS was serious stuff and this guy sounded like he had control.

"I have men surrounding you right now. You and your little 'family'. And it would be so easy to just give the order to take you out rather than go to the trouble to haul all of you back to the US for a trial and to let you spend the rest of your sorry lives in prison," Hobbs said with an unamused laugh.

I frantically signalled to Dom and he ran into the house. I hoped to keep Hobbs slightly distracted while Dom found a way to get everyone out safely. I ran over to the window to look out and winced at the pain in my abdomen. I stayed off to the side of the window so I wouldn't be an easy shot. But I could easily pick out Hobbs' men.

"So what's the deal?" I asked.

"First of all, you stop your little escape attempt and come with me," he said. "Then we'll talk."

"If you think we're going to willingly turn ourselves in, you're wrong," I snapped.

"I never said willingly. That's just the recommended course of action. I know that even if they try to escape, I'll still get you. An injured person won't make it far on the run."

I took a deep breath and turned away from the window.

"What is it that you want me to do for you?"