-Zade Collins:
Engines roared like war drums as I rolled in through the trees. The clearing was already full—campers lined up along the dirt path, coolers open, smoke drifting from grills. Kids with painted cheeks ran between hay bales, and cheerleaders were practicing their stunts near the sidelines, all legs and glitter and loud music.
The race hadn't even started yet, but it already felt like something out of a movie.
I killed the engine of my quad and let the silence settle for a second before I swung a leg over and hopped off. The smell of pine and gasoline hit me in the same breath—God, I loved that. I took off my gloves, running my fingers through my hair once, and that's when I heard the voice.
"Zade!"
I turned.
It was Mr. Holloway—my mom's friend, my dad's too. Older guy, maybe late 40s, early 50s, barrel-chested with a permanent sunburn on his nose and the kind of laugh that made your ribs hurt. He walked over with his arms wide, already grinning.
"There he is! My future son-in-law!"
I smirked, stepping into the hug. "Hey, Mr. Holloway."
He clapped me on the back hard enough to knock the wind out of me. "Tell me you joined the competition this year, boy. Because if you did—" he pointed a big weathered finger at my chest "—I swear I'm walking my daughter down that aisle myself. She's been talkin' about this race for weeks."
I chuckled, lifting my goggles off my head. "Then it's official. I'm getting married. I already signed up this morning."
Mr. Holloway whistled, loud and long. "Damn, boy! Don't let her hear you say that. She'll be sprinting to the bridal shop before the engine even cools."
We both laughed. I glanced over my shoulder, spotting her through the crowd—his daughter, my girlfriend for the last six months, standing near the trailers with her friends, hair pulled back in a high ponytail, smile bright. She hadn't seen me yet.
"Well," I said, stuffing my gloves into my back pocket, "Guess we'll surprise you."
He shook his head fondly. "That girl reminded me at least six times last night. Said if I missed your race, she'd put me in a retirement home early. She's serious about you, Zade."
"I know," I said quietly. And I did. She was sweet. Steady. The kind of person who made life feel simple.
"Course," Mr. Holloway went on, eyes trailing toward the line of cheerleaders stretching near the track, "I'm also here to keep an eye on you. You know. Make sure you don't get distracted."
He gave me a wink, elbowed me like we were frat brothers. I laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of my neck.
He nodded toward the squad of girls. "I mean, damn, how's a man supposed to stay faithful in a place like this?"
I raised an eyebrow. "Your wife would kill you if she heard you say that."
"True," he said, without a hint of shame. "But at least I'd die happy."
We both laughed again, but I didn't really feel it this time. The laugh came too easy, too light. My mind was already somewhere else. Still at the doorway. Still behind that corner, listening to my parents' argument this morning.
Mr. Holloway's voice faded a bit as I drifted.
"They're coming back, and they'll take everything. Everything we have."
My mother's voice had been sharp, wild-eyed. I'd never heard her like that before. Not even when she and Dad fought in the past. This time, it was different. Desperate.
"There's no time for races. No time to play proud parent. This isn't a show. It's a crisis."
I had just been walking down for breakfast. Just wanted coffee and maybe a piece of toast. But I stopped in the hall when I heard them.
"You're overreacting," Dad had said, calm as ever. He always stayed calm. "It's just Ainsley. She's finishing her tour. Doesn't mean she's coming here."
"Yes, it does! She's coming with him. With Blake."
Blake.
The name hit hard in my chest even now. I clenched my jaw, looking out across the woods, eyes unfocused.
"This house isn't even hers anymore," she'd hissed. "She left it. I took care of it. We took care of it."
"It's not our house either," Dad had snapped. I'd never heard him snap like that before. "It was my brother's. And after he died, it became Blake's and that means it's his mom's too. That's how inheritance works, Rina. Blake's graduating today. Of course he'll want to come back. This is his home."
"You want a recovering alcoholic to live in our house with our children?"
That part stuck. Echoed. Like her voice was still in my ear.
But Dad… he didn't flinch.
"She's not an alcoholic anymore. She quit. You think she drank for fun? She lost her husband. She was drowning. And she had no one. You think that's weakness?"
They were talking about Blake's mom.
I didn't want to hear more. I didn't want to hear any of it. But I stood there like a coward, frozen, until I heard my mom slam the phone to the floor.
"I'm not letting that woman or her kid walk into this house like it's theirs. Not after everything."
My father's voice had dropped then, low and deadly calm.
"It's not your choice. This house belongs to Blake. And the moment he steps through that door, I'm going to welcome him home."
That's when I left. Grabbed my jacket, my keys, and peeled out of the driveway. I didn't even think about the race until I was already on the road. Guess I needed to feel the engine under me. Feel like something was still mine.
"Zade?"
Mr. Holloway's voice snapped me back. He was looking at me sideways now. Not teasing. Concerned. "Everything good, son?"
I nodded, plastering on a smile. "Yeah. Just thinking."
He eyed me a second longer, but then shrugged. "Well, go win something for me. I got a wedding to plan."
I chuckled and clapped him on the shoulder. "You got it, old man."
I turned away before he could see my face fall again.