Shawn might have failed to patch up his relationship with his brother during those visits, but he—along with the middle school librarian and a handsome Social Studies teacher—had become one of Rory’s unintentional guardian angels.
He would have run away in a heartbeat if he’d thought Shawn would take him in.
“What’s Solomon doing up there? Napping?”
Out of the three of them, Younger had been the only volunteer to enter Sol the Elder’s room to fill a small overnight bag with necessities.
Rory had only joined the trio to get away from the hospital and Shawn’s attention. Since Wyatt and Noah had to work, Brady was taking a turn in the waiting room until the latest scans came back.
He wasn’t sure why James was still hanging around. “You should go look for him. Maybe Elder was stashing drugs in the walls and his oldest boy is hiding the evidence.”
“Maybe you’re in a shitty mood because I took you away from the pleasure palace,” James shot back easily. “Does our sweet little cousin know what you’re up to in her house?”
Rory grinned evilly. “Our sweet little ménage-loving cousin? She planned it, the schemer. Left me alone with my own set of bookends while she took hers to the island. You really are missing out on all the best family gossip.”
James scowled. “I hear what I need to.”
“How’s your mom?” God, you’re such a prick.
Younger’s voice halted any potential response from James. “Why are you baiting him, Rory? He’s here now. That’s enough.”
“I was only curious. It’s not like we need another hungry man hoarding Finn Again leftovers.”
James eyed him with a strange expression. His lips curved, tightening the scar on his face. “I think our baby boy misses me, Solomon.”
“Younger,” his brother corrected. “And we all do, James. I’ve told you that before. Many times.”
Rory smiled. Solomon used to hate his nickname. A few months ago he’d changed his tune, said junior didn’t suit him, so Younger would work instead.
He wondered if it had something to do with his resignation from the force.
He watched him set down a gym bag and a fraying, faded backpack that looked familiar. “Hey, that’s mine.”
“I don’t think so.” James shook his head. “I remember packing your room into a U-Haul for your eighteenth birthday. I would have remembered that purple eyesore.”
Rory wanted to argue but he couldn’t. James probably hadn’t seen it. He had a photographic memory and though Rory had used that backpack for his last two years of high school—crammed it full of books and writing journals and carried it everywhere—James had already been out of the house for years by then.
“Oh yes, the birthday ousting. I love Memory Lane. Let’s stay here forever,” he quipped before starting toward the door. “You guys coming?”
“Ousting?” Younger said, the authority in his voice forcing him to slow. “You feel like explaining that?”
Shit. Elder’s reaction today was putting him off his game. “Sure. My name is Rory. I’m the smartass of the family. Other than inappropriate sexual commentary? That’s kind of my thing.” Fun Rory. Lying Rory. Pretend Rory.
“Hell.” James laughed, but it wasn’t a happy sound. It was…weary. “You didn’t ask to be moved out for your eighteenth, did you? When you came home and acted surprised I thought you were joking.”
He wasn’t. He’d gone to breakfast with David at their favorite diner to celebrate his birthday over waffles and bacon. When he got home, his brothers were all moving him out and telling him manual labor was a shitty birthday request.
As soon as he was legal, his father had kicked him out.
“Does it matter?”
“Of course it does.” Younger clenched and unclenched his fists, looking around the room as if the walls held an explanation before settling on Rory. “Your friends met you at your new apartment. You’d planned it.”
For someone who’d paid so much attention to all of them, Younger had missed a lot. “I drove the U-Haul to a coffee shop and searched the listings until I found a place I could afford. David and his father helped me move in. I told them it was my birthday present to myself.”
His brothers looked so pissed he felt the need to soothe them. “I was going to leave. That’s why I’d been working for my self-defense teacher.” He’d also sold a short story to a magazine, which was his only saving grace. That extra savings was the down payment on his shithole apartment. “I was glad you were all there to help.”
Fuck. He hated all of this. “Look, I should go. I have company I left to help with this, and Duck and Goose need to be taken care of.”
“Duck and Goose?” James asked, puzzled. “I thought their names were David and Anthony?”
“Jennifer’s dogs, James. Not the men. Please try to keep up with the family newsletter.”
Younger walked over to him and frowned in concern. “Rory, I think we need to talk about what happened today with Sol.”