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Home. Yeah, right.

I haven’t had one of those for thirteen years.

That night, with the crowds and the awards and the money and the fame, when I should’ve been riding high, I felt the lowest I’d felt in years.

Nothing shiny about the life I’d been living. Nothing glamorous about the choices I’d made. All the trophies on all the mantles in the world couldn’t fill the emptiness I felt.

That I still feel.

I face the front again and dig out a folded scrap of paper from the front pocket of my jeans.

Words I’d scrawled just a few days after that championship ride, hours after I got the call from Finn.

“I’m getting married,” he’d said.

“Dang, congrats buddy, that’s awesome,” I’d said, kind of shocked he’d called to let me know. Not shocked by his news though. It’d been months since we talked, but I knew about Raya Hart. He’d been carrying a torch for her for a long time, so I’d said, “Look at you finally getting the courage to make it official.”

He laughed, then got a little quiet before he said, “So, uh . . . hey. I want you to stand up with me. I want you there. At the wedding.”

I didn’t speak for so long that Finn said, “You still there, buddy?”

“Uh, yeah, I’m here,” I managed. “Just kind of surprised. It’s been a long time since we⁠—”

“You’re one of us,” he’d said. “A Holbrook. I don’t care if you’ve got a stupid last name,” then after a pause, “and a stupid first name too.”

I chuckled, feeling like years and no time had passed simultaneously.

“Shut up,” I cracked back. “You’re named after a part of a fish.”

I could hear him smile through the phone. “I can’t get married without you there, man.”

A pause.

“Come home,” Finn said.

Home.

I’d absently wondered if he’d say that if he knew the truth about the night his brother died. The thought stopped me, like always, that pang of guilt always hovering just below the surface.

It’s not your fault.

That thought was there too, like always, but no matter how hard I try to grip the rope around it, it’s too big for me to hold onto.

I’ll always feel responsible for what happened to Hunter.

“Say you’ll do it?” he’d said.

I paused for a few more seconds, trying to figure out how I was going to go back and face everyone after all the stupid, careless things I’d done. I wasn’t welcome anymore—Finn had to know that.

“You sure about this, man?” I asked, searching my mind for an out. Not because I didn’t want to be there, but because I didn’t want to bring any shame on that family on such an important day.

Not after they took me in.

Not after I’d let them down.

“As sure as eggs is eggs,” Finn said, in a drawl, sounding like his dad. “I’ll email you the details. Well, Hattie will. She’s doing most of the planning.”

Long brown braids and dark brown eyes.