'Don't look at her like she's a bad girl. She's just misunderstood sometimes, she's a little troubled and she's a little dysfunctional, but she's a survivor.'
|| Book 1 in the Blake Toretto Series ||
|| Fast & Furious Fanfic ||
|| F&F 1 - F&F 8 ||
|...
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'This rowdy, crazy, loving group of people, is my family. From almost all over the world... And though we've lost a few along the way... I know they're here with us as we sit here together.'
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Blake Toretto stood nervously in the living room of her house, her nicest pair of jeans adorning her legs; small grease stains lining the sides from hours of nervous repairs on her Challenger. She was waiting. Waiting for her daughter to walk through the front door of her house. The little girl she'd given up to keep safe. Dom had spoken to Hobbs, who had gone to lengths to get the Toretto child back home where she belonged. Kaia and Jacinto were at Rosa's with the rest of the family, Zander beside her and Dom with Brian, Mia and Letty in one of the back rooms.
She jumped when the knock came, the sound rattling in her head. Her whole body tensed, her hand squeezing Zander's tight. She listened to the knocking sound again, looking up at her fiance as she let out a shaky breath. She stepped forward, hesitating as she held her hand over the door handle, before she twisted it.
She pulled the door open slowly, closing her eyes for a second before she opened them to find Hobbs standing before her; Carlito and Rafael standing either side of him. Her eyes scanned over the men, before they fell to a small girl hiding behind Hobbs. Her lips trembled as she looked over her daughter, seeing herself reflected in an innocent child.
'Toretto,' Hobbs nodded; 'You let me up today.'
'It wasn't for you,' She greeted; 'Hobbs... Thank you... For this. I-I can't-'
'Stop. I know how much this pains who for me to be your hero.'
She smiled then, shaking her head at the man as she blinked away her tears.
'Harley,' Hobbs crouched down and turned to the little girl; 'This... Is your Mum.'
Harley peered up at her nervously, a purple backpack strung on her back; a black snap back on backwards on her head, her curls sticking out around her face.
