The O'Conner Code

Chapter 5

Thirty minutes later, Brian and Tommy rolled up to the Toretto garage, the rumble of the truck’s engine cutting through the quiet night. Brian, gripping his son’s arm with a hint of discomfort, moved with a purpose. His eyes were locked on the garage door, anticipation clear in his stiff posture.

At 17, Tommy exuded a quiet authority, his protective instinct for his family unmistakable. The two of them didn’t need to say much—everything was understood. He knocked sharply on the garage door, a cool edge in his tone as impatience crept through.

Dom opened it, his gaze flicking between father and son, sizing them up in that quiet, calculating way he always did. “You’re back already?”

Brian’s voice had a faint rasp, the kind you get when you’ve been through a bit too much. “Yeah, we’re here. And I’m here for that van.”

Dom gave a simple nod and stepped aside, the familiar flicker of a smirk crossing his face. “It’s done. Take a look.”

Brian exhaled slowly and stepped in, despite the discomfort in his joints. The van sat under the harsh light, sleek and ready. His fingers grazed the smooth metal as he inspected it, Tommy at his side, watching with that quiet intensity only family could understand.

“Tommy says it drives good,” Brian muttered, running his hand along the wheel, testing its weight. “What else did you do to it?”

Dom didn’t waste time, his voice firm and to the point. “Rebuilt it from the ground up. Reinforced suspension, custom leather interior, high-end sound system, top-tier safety for the baby. Everything under the hood’s as solid as they come. Fast, reliable, won’t attract too much attention.”

Brian took in the details with a nod, running his fingers over the dashboard, his eyes scanning the craftsmanship. “Impressive. This is exactly what I needed.”

Tommy stood with his arms crossed, glancing at the van, his tone just a touch dry. “Dad’ll be here in 30 to pick it up.”

Brian’s face turned serious, the weight of the conversation shifting. “I got another van on the trailer. Pulled it here myself. Can you make a copy of this one?”

Vince, working under the hood of another car, raised an eyebrow. “Another one?” His curiosity piqued, he wiped his hands on a rag, clearly intrigued.

Mia stepped forward, caution in her eyes as she scanned Brian. “Why two vans?”

Brian’s voice softened, that rare tenderness surfacing when he spoke of his family. “Got a growing family, Mia. Twins are 16 now. They need more space, more gear. And a dog to boot.” He looked at Dom, something unspoken passing between them. “I need it like the first one, same specs, but the cargo needs to be bigger.”

Letty, standing to the side with Leon, nodded once, her voice low but sharp. “That’s a lot of work. You sure about this?”

Brian gave a wry smile, the weight of years in his eyes. “I need it top-tier. Safe. Make it look like something nobody would think twice about. I want people to second-guess messing with it.”

Dom scratched his chin thoughtfully. “Alright. But this’ll take time. Twelve weeks for the second van.”

Brian handed over an envelope, the money inside crinkling as it passed from hand to hand. “Twenty grand to get started. Labor costs are covered. Tommy’ll bring the second van around. You get to work whenever you’re ready.”

Tommy moved toward the trailer, every step purposeful. His voice was low, but there was a quiet fire in it. “I’ll bring it around now, Dad.” His protective nature was clear—he wasn’t just Brian’s son; he was his muscle too.

Brian glanced back at Dom, his face hardening. “Take care of it. I’m trusting you with this.”

Dom’s gaze softened for a moment, the weight of the moment settling. “We got it. Both vans, just the way you need.”

Brian nodded, his expression turning inward for a moment as he looked at Tommy. There was pride there, but it was layered with the quiet realization that his son was no longer just following. He was leading.

“Tommy’s been doing good,” Brian said, his voice low, almost to himself. “Takes after his old man.”

Mia smiled, a touch of pride in her voice. “He’s got the O’Conner drive. You taught him well.”

Brian’s smile was brief, but it was there. It softened his usual hard edge before it slipped back into calm determination. “Just need the second van ready before the twins head off. I’m counting on you.”

Letty stepped in, a hand on Brian’s shoulder. “We’ll make it happen. You’ve got a solid crew here.”

Moments later, Tommy maneuvered the second van into the garage, his hands sure and steady. He parked it with the precision of someone who knew what was on the line. Wiping his hands on his jeans, he gave a quick glance at his father. “It’s here. I did my part. Now it’s on you.”

Brian handed over another envelope, the thick stack of cash feeling heavier than it should. “This is for all of you. You earned it.”

The crew took the money, but it wasn’t about the cash—it was the trust Brian had in them, a currency that mattered more.

Dom met Brian’s gaze and offered a firm handshake, his grip solid and unwavering. “We’ve got you. Both vans will be ready when you need them.”

Brian’s tired eyes met Dom’s, and for a moment, the weight of everything hung between them. “I appreciate it. I’ll be back in a few weeks for the second one.”

As Brian and Tommy walked back to the truck, the air between them was thick with the unspoken. The work wasn’t over. But for now, it felt like a win.

Tommy broke the silence, his voice steady. “We’re good, right, Dad? This’ll work out?”

Brian’s smile was small but full of pride as he squeezed his son’s arm. “Yeah. We’re good.”

Tommy slid behind the wheel, the engine roaring to life with that familiar hum. Brian settled into the passenger seat, watching the road stretch ahead. There was more work to be done, but the pieces were in place. For now, that was enough.