He absently fingered the scar on his face. A memento from his time in captivity. Insurance that he’d never forget those endless days of torture and starvation. They’d carved him and Nathan both up. They both still wore the scars from their captivity, but Swanny’s were more visible. His face had been slashed and by the time they’d been rescued and hospitalized, there was little a surgeon could do, and he wasn’t vain enough to ever have plastic surgery.
No, he wore that scar as a reminder of what he’d survived.
His sex life had certainly suffered as a result, but sex wasn’t one of his priorities. Not since coming home alive. He threw himself into his job. His new family. He shook his head. He had no family. Not until Nathan. The Kellys and KGI had embraced him. Marlene Kelly, the matriarch of the Kelly clan, had adopted him as one of her own, and she treated him just like he was one of her many children.
Frank and Marlene Kelly had six sons, but Marlene had adopted others into her fold. Rusty Kelly, the sullen teenager who’d broken into her home but was now about to graduate from college, a vibrant, beautiful young lady who had the world at her feet. Swanny had no doubt she’d one day rule the world.
And there was Sean Cameron, a sheriff’s deputy in Stewart County. Also adopted into the Kelly fold and treated much like all Marlene and Frank’s other children. It was mind-boggling, the extent of the Kellys’ generosity.
The family had grown and expanded. Joe was the only unmarried Kelly, and he definitely heard about it from Marlene on a regular basis. There were grandchildren aplenty and more on the way.
And here in the middle of it all was Swanny. He’d gone from a solitary existence with only the men he served with as his brothers. And now he had the entire Kelly family plus the KGI team members. All at his back. Ready to go to the wall for him. It baffled him, this unconditional loyalty.
He’d crawled back to the little house he’d inherited from his parents after he and Nathan had been discharged from the hospital. But he’d been restless and . . . lonely. His brush with death, facing his mortality and then his miraculous healing had brought him to Tennessee, seeking answers from Nathan about what had happened in those mountains before they were rescued.
And he’d stayed, first adopted into the fold instantaneously by Marlene Kelly and then offered a position with KGI. He’d joined the new team headed by Nathan and Joe and joined soon after by Edge and Skylar. They were his family now. And having family, people who accepted him, felt . . . good.
When he’d served in the army he’d had a purpose. His life had been consumed with the need to protect and serve. After his injuries and discharge, he hadn’t known what else to do. There was nothing for him on the outside. He’d never be happy with a nine-to-five office job or joining the rat race as a civilian. KGI had given him purpose again.
KGI helped people. They protected the innocent and the weak. They helped bring down the assholes in the world, those who preyed on the innocents. Now when he woke in the morning, he felt alive. Like he had a future. KGI had given him that, and he’d be forever grateful to them for that.
He’d resigned himself to never settling down, having a family, things most people took for granted even if they weren’t in a hurry. He was surrounded by just those things. Each of the Kelly brothers, with the exception of Joe, had met their soul mates. Even the team leaders, Rio and Steele, had settled into domesticity with an ease that still amused and befuddled the men and women who worked under their command. Hell, even Cole and P.J., two of Steele’s team members, had hooked up and were living in marital bliss, though he imagined theirs was an interesting arrangement since P.J. could kick ass with the best of them. It was for certain she kept Cole on his toes.
But that wasn’t for him, and he accepted that just like he’d accepted everything else. With peace and understanding. He didn’t just have scars on the outside. He was irrevocably scarred—changed—on the inside. He wasn’t sure how Nathan was handling the memories. He was sure Nathan still had his fair share of sleepless nights, but he had Shea to help him, to lean on when the past reared its ugly head. But Swanny still suffered nightmares. Flashbacks to his captivity. He still woke in a cold sweat, fearing for a moment that he was back in that hell. Chained in a cave waiting for the time when they came for him. To carve him up, beat him and interrogate him.
They hadn’t been able to break him. He took pride in that. He and Nathan both had withstood all that their captors had dished out and had never broken. Because in the end, that was all they’d had left. Their pride and determination not to let those cocksuckers win.