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“I’m Matt.”
Justin glared at him and it was obvious he knew exactly who Matt was. “Why are you here?” Justin shot back, leaning to the side so that Matt couldn’t see into the house.
“Delilah told me to come get you. Your father is…our father…” Justin winced and Matt faltered. Shit. He had no clue how to deal with an already screwed up fifteen-year-old. “You need to come with me.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you.” His face was hard, and damn, it was like looking into a mirror. “What do you care anyway? It’s no
t like you ever came around before.”
Matt took a step forward and Justin had to move back. He shoved past the kid and walked into the house. “I’m going to be honest with you, Justin. I don’t really know what the hell it is that I’m doing here. It’s sad and screwed up that we’ve never gotten to know each other. I’m winging it here, and we’re both going to have to step up. To get through this, you’re going to have put aside all that shit. Because that stuff we can deal with later.”
Justin shoved his hands into the front of his pockets. He hunched his shoulders and Matt was again struck by the similarities. This kid was his brother. Justin didn’t say a word, but his posture screamed out his pain.
“My mom sent you?” he asked, his gaze meeting Matt’s once more.
“Yes. She’s at the hospice.”
Justin snorted. “I’ll believe that when I see it.”
Matt frowned. Something wasn’t right. He walked down the short hallway to the kitchen and noted the pile of dirty dishes in the sink and more on the counter. He opened the fridge which was mostly empty and than wandered down the hall to the bedrooms. He passed a laundry room overflowing with clothes on the floor.
“Hey, you just can’t walk into my place like that.” Justin ran after him, but Matt had already poked his nose into all three bedrooms.
Matt turned to Justin. It was obvious the kid was on his own. “Where’s your mother staying?”
Instantly the kid’s eyes narrowed and anger flushed his cheeks a ruddy shade of pink. “I don’t know and I don’t care. She doesn’t live here anymore. Hasn’t in months.”
The urge to punch something was strong, and Matt clenched his fists together, searching for that place of calm. Hoping he found it before his temper got the best of him and he did something stupid.
“Were you ever missing?”
Confusion crept over Justin’s face. “What the hell are you talking about?”
Matt stared at the boy until the anger in him receded. He would figure this out, but right now he needed to get Justin to the hospice.
“Let’s go,” he said.
Justin glared at him. “Can I at least have a shower?”
Matt turned toward the kitchen. “You’ve got twenty minutes.”
Justin was back in ten, hair still wet and slicked back, dressed in a wrinkled AC/DC T-shirt and jeans that had seen better days. They headed out in the truck and just as they pulled into the hospice Justin spoke.
“How is he?”
Matt cut the engine and turned to the boy. “Not good.” He paused. “When was the last time you saw him?”
Justin shrugged. “A few days ago. I took the bus. He just slept a lot.”
“How long have you been living on your own?”
Matt didn’t think that Justin would answer him but after a few moments he spoke, his voice high and thin. “I don’t know. Two months I guess.”
Red hot anger coursed through Matt. Two months and this kid had been living on his own. Two months. What the hell was going on?
“Let’s go,” he said.
Matt got out of his truck and turned in a circle, eyes moving over the vehicles parked in the lot. Delilah’s old SUV was nowhere in sight, but he’d worry about that later. They headed into Compassionate Care and the lady at the front desk smiled when she caught sight of Justin.
