Wands and Wheels

Rio De Janeiro, Abandon Wearhouse

The sound of a car drifting around corners and the team trying to figure out which one of them was fast enough to avoid all the cameras was merely background noise to Severa, as her mind was stuck on Dom.

He’d been distant ever since he drove off the night before, leaving her stranded with Brian. All night, she replayed the events in her head, trying to pinpoint what she might have said or done to warrant such a cold dismissal. Nothing made sense. One minute they were great, sharing smiles and touches here and there, and the next, he was gone.

"Severa, you even listening?" Mia's voice cut through her haze, snapping her back to the present. Severa blinked, realizing she’d been staring off into space.

"What?" she muttered, glancing at Mia.

"You okay? You’ve been quiet all day."

"I’m fine," Severa replied too quickly, masking the turmoil that threatened to spill over. Mia raised a skeptical eyebrow but didn’t press further.

The sound of an approaching car pulled their attention back to the cars. Severa's heart jumped, hoping it was Dom returning, but as the sleek gray car rounded the corner, disappointment weighed her down. It wasn’t him.

Brian wandered over, his easy grin in place as always. "He’ll show up," he said, as though reading her mind.

"Who?" she asked, feigning ignorance.

Brian chuckled. "You’re not as subtle as you think, Sev."

"Maybe I don’t want to be subtle," she snapped, her frustration finally breaking through.

Brian held up his hands in surrender. "Alright, fair. But seriously, Dom’s… complicated. Don’t take it personally."

"How can I not?" she shot back. "One minute, we’re fine, and the next, he’s gone without a word. How am I supposed to act like that’s normal?"

Brian sighed, his usual humor replaced by something softer. "It’s just how he is. Give him time. He’ll come around."

Severa wasn’t sure what to make of it, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that whatever was going on with Dom had nothing to do with her—or maybe everything. She was pulled out of her thoughts when she heard the sound of boots on the platform.

Her head snapped up, and there he was—Dom. He strolled over to one of the cameras, eyes on Han’s latest run. Her heart started racing as his gaze drifted over the team: Mia, Brian, Han... and skipped right over her like she wasn’t even there.

She clenched her jaw, trying to keep her cool. It stung, but she wasn’t about to let anyone see that. Not now.

"How’d you do?" Dom asked, his voice calm, like he hadn’t been ignoring her for hours.

Han didn’t even look up. "It's too tight. Only way we're gonna beat the cameras is with invisible cars."

Dom nodded. "Tell him to run it again. We need it perfect."

Severa stood there, fists clenched, watching him like a hawk. She could feel the tension radiating off him, but he still wouldn’t look her way. Enough was enough.

"Dom," she called, louder than she meant to. The chatter around them stopped, and all eyes turned to her.

He froze mid-step but didn’t turn around. For a second, she thought he was just going to ignore her again, but then he turned his head slightly. "What?"

Her heart pounded, but she refused to back down. “I-I wanted to ask yo—”

Dom cut her off with a look, his expression unreadable. “Not here,” he said, his voice low. “Five minutes.”

And just like that, he turned and walked away, leaving her standing there like an idiot.

Severa could feel the weight of everyone’s stares, hot and piercing, like they were burning holes into her skull. She clenched her fists, her cheeks heating up. Roman’s smirk wasn’t helping, and neither was Brian’s awkward attempt to look anywhere but at her.

"Mind your own business," Severa muttered under her breath as she turned on her heel and headed for the garage. She didn’t wait to see if anyone had anything to say—she didn’t care. Right now, all that mattered was getting some answers out of Dom.

By the time she stepped outside the warehouse, Dom was leaning against his car, arms crossed, shoulders tense. He didn’t look up when she exited, just kept staring at the ground like it held all the answers he didn’t want to give.

“Alright,” he said finally, his voice steady but distant. “What do you want to ask me?”

Severa hesitated. The confidence she’d built up on her way out wavered under the weight of his presence. She opened her mouth to speak, but something caught her eye—the silver cross hanging around his neck.

That hadn’t been there last night.

Before she could stop herself, she stepped closer, her hand reaching out. Her fingers gently brushed the cross, lifting it for a better look. “I remember this,” she said softly, her voice almost wistful. The memories came rushing back—Dom’s dad wearing the same cross, his deep laugh filling the garage as he showed her how to tighten a bolt without stripping it.

She turned it over in her hand, her thumb brushing the worn edges. It was smaller than she remembered, or maybe she was just bigger now. “Your dad used to wear this,” she said, her voice low.

Before she could say more, Dom’s hand shot up, smacking hers away. The cross dropped back against his chest, and the soft clang of metal hitting skin felt louder than it should have.

“You gonna say what you came here for or not?” Dom snapped, his tone sharp enough to make her flinch.

Severa blinked, her hand hovering in the air before she slowly lowered it. The warmth of the metal still lingered on her fingertips. “I…” She stumbled over her words, caught off guard by his reaction. “I was just… I mean—”

“What?” Dom cut her off, his eyes finally meeting hers. They were hard, guarded, like he was daring her to push him.

She straightened up, trying to ignore the sting of his tone. “What’s going on with you?” she asked, her voice firmer now. “You’ve been acting like I don’t exist, and now you’re wearing your dad’s cross like it’s supposed to mean something. Talk to me, Dom. What the hell is going on?”

Dom’s jaw tightened, and for a moment, she thought he was going to ignore her again. But then he pushed off the car, stepping closer, his gaze boring into hers.

“You don’t get it,” he said, his voice low and clipped. “You don’t want to get it. The less you know, the better.”

“Bullshit,” she shot back, the frustration bubbling over. “You don’t get to decide that for me.”

Dom shook his head, his lips pressing into a thin line. “This isn’t about you, Severa. It’s bigger than you—bigger than me.”

“Then why are you shutting me out?” she demanded, stepping closer. “If it’s so big, maybe I can help.”

He let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head again. “Help? This isn’t something you can just fix with a wand and a pep talk. You don’t belong in this, and I’m not dragging you into it.”

“But I’m already in it!” she snapped. “Ever think of that?”