“Take a load off,” Joe said.
Nathan blinked his way out of his thoughts and realized that everyone was staring at him. He wiped his palms down the legs of his jeans and settled onto the couch down from Swanny. Soon the room would be filled with his brothers and their wives. People would be sitting on the floor, spilled over the arms of chairs and the couch. And his mom would beam the entire time.
He glanced questioningly at Swanny, wanting to know if his friend was up for this. They’d spent the last two days alone at Nathan’s building site until Nathan’s mom had had enough and dragged them over for a real dinner, as she’d put it.
Swanny looked content—more content than Nathan—to be surrounded by so many warm people. But then Swanny didn’t have family. He’d had no one to return to when he and Nathan had been rescued. In Swanny’s position, Nathan would have given up hope a lot sooner. Only the drive to see his family again had kept him sane. What had given Swanny such determination?
If he could give Swanny a little peace by sharing his family, then Nathan would gladly do it. His mom would adopt him now anyway whether Swanny liked it or not. Nothing much stopped her when she set her mind to something, and collecting strays was a lifelong habit of hers.
“How is training going, Joe?” Frank asked.
Nathan traced one of the scars on his arm and didn’t look over for his brother’s response. His dad didn’t mean anything by it. He worried about his youngest sons. The family was thrilled to have them both home, and their brothers were content to have them under the KGI umbrella.
Nathan hadn’t made a commitment. He wasn’t even talking the possibility. Not yet. Maybe never.
“Going good, Dad. I’m being assigned to Rio’s team. Van is still working on a third team. That could be months in the works. He’s a picky bastard.”
“You’ll be taking assignments already?” Marlene asked sharply.
Nathan turned his head to see his mom walk into the living room with that classic “mom” look on her face, which meant she was displeased. And worried. She put the tray holding the drinks down on the coffee table and motioned for them to get one.
Joe snorted. “If I had my way, yeah. But for now I’ll just be training with Rio and his men.”
Marlene frowned harder. “But they live away. Doesn’t Rio live in some jungle somewhere?”
Joe grinned. “Belize, Mom. And yeah, he lives there. He doesn’t train there. We’ll train here at the new facility. It’s why Sam busted ass to get everything up and running. Well, and we still have permission from Uncle Sam to train at Fort Campbell too.”
“Well, that’s something at least,” Marlene muttered as she took a seat between Nathan and Swanny. “If it’s all the same, I’d like for my boys not to take off the minute I get them home. Has your doctor even given you the go-ahead for this kind of activity?”
She put her hand on Nathan’s leg and gave him a gentle squeeze, even though she didn’t look his way or direct her statement toward him. While his brothers worried incessantly over Nathan, Marlene seemed content to give him time and space and not pressure him to do anything at all.
But that might be because she feared he was one short fuse away from exploding. Which would explain why she hadn’t wanted Rusty to invite him to graduation. He sighed. He just wanted things to be normal, or as close to normal as possible. In the past she wouldn’t have hesitated one iota to tell him where and when to be wherever she thought he should.
Joe laughed. “Ma, I’m fine. No, I’m not one hundred percent, but I’m almost there and I will be there the more I work at it. I’m not going to get better sitting on my ass and feeling sorry for myself.”
Nathan didn’t look at his brother, but he could feel the weight of Joe’s stare. He knew the statement was pointed. He knew Joe thought he should be able to move on, stay busy, forget the last year. Put it out of his mind.
That was Joe.
Joe wanted Nathan to start training. Joe wanted to pretend that nothing had ever happened to Nathan because it hurt him to think of what had happened to his twin.
Everyone had their own idea of how to fix Nathan. And maybe that was the reason Nathan had pulled back. Because the only person who was going to fix Nathan was Nathan and he didn’t have that particular mystery solved yet.
The sound of the front door opening put an end to any conversation. A moment later, his brothers and their wives started pouring into the living room.
Baby Charlotte was immediately pounced on and passed from relative to relative and the smooches and cooing filled the room.
Nathan’s palms grew slick again and his scars itched. He rubbed his hands down his pants but forced himself not to rub at his chest and belly or his arms.
His chest tightened painfully and suddenly he couldn’t sit still any longer. He pushed himself upward, as if he were standing to greet the rest of his family. He forced himself to endure the backslaps from his brothers, but their voices sort of mingled together until it all sounded like a dull roar.
Murmuring an excuse that he had to go to the bathroom, he escaped to the kitchen and then stood over the sink, running water over his scarred arms while he tried to calm his rapid pulse rate.
After several deep breaths, he went to the fridge, fished out a beer and then retreated out the back door onto the deck. Inside they were no doubt openly discussing his continued distance and wondering how to break past the wall. Or maybe not since Swanny was there. But they were thinking it and exchanging helpless looks from some, determined looks from others. And probably drawing straws to see who came to find him.
If Swanny wasn’t having such a good time and looking happier than he had since he’d arrived to see Nathan, Nathan would have already left.
He propped his beer on the porch railing and stared into the darkness, listening to the soothing sounds of tree frogs and crickets. When the door opened, he sighed. When he turned around, though, he was surprised to see Rachel standing a few feet away.
He turned fully, leaning back against the wood railing. “Hey, doll. I didn’t figure you would draw the short straw or that you’d even be in the running.”
She tilted her head in confusion, the outside light shining over her dark hair. “Oh,” she finally said. “You thought they sent me.”
“They didn’t?”
She took the few remaining steps that separated them and stood quietly next to him, her gaze directed to the woods behind his parents’ house.
“No.”
He turned back around so they were facing the same direction. “Sorry. I know I probably seem paranoid and touchy.”
She smiled. “Understandable if you were.”
“How are you? I mean really? You doing okay these days? I haven’t seen much of you.”