Shades of Gray

CHAPTER 22

ODDLY enough, P.J. dreaded facing Cole more than she dreaded facing Steele. Steele would be pissed, yeah. He’d already gone on record saying what he thought of her quitting the team. And yes, she’d been a total coward for only going to Steele and not facing her entire team—and Cole.

She’d been barely aware when Cole stopped the vehicle several hours after they’d fled the scene of her crime. She’d slipped in and out of consciousness when Cole had carried her inside a musty-smelling house and settled her on a couch.

When he’d arranged cushions around her for comfort, he’d bumped her leg, causing a low moan to escape her mouth.

He’d pressed his lips to her brow and murmured soft words of apology and a firm command for her to rest. She’d retreated beyond the veil of the medication, embracing the opportunity to delay the talk she knew was inevitable.

Anyone with eyes and a brain could see that things were . . . tense . . . between her and Cole. They had only to look at the way he’d been around her and they’d instantly know that their relationship wasn’t as simple as teammate to teammate.

Former teammates.

It was a point she had to keep reminding herself of. She was no longer a part of KGI. No longer part of something that made her feel like she belonged.

She stared up at the ceiling, achy and wrung out from the medication. Her leg was throbbing and her skin felt clammy. When she turned her head to the side, she saw that the other members of her team had arrived.

Dolphin was propped in one of the small armchairs, his head tilted sideways, eyes closed. Across from him, Renshaw occupied the other chair and had his head straight back so he was staring upward. He was asleep too.

Guilt nagged at her. How many days or weeks had they gone without sleep because they were tracking her down? Or had they even been looking for her? If they were after Brumley, it stood to reason they’d have the same intel she’d gathered. Maybe she was alive thanks to nothing more than shit-ass luck.

She pushed herself upward and rotated so her legs fell over the side of the couch. Pain shot through her thigh. Spots dotted her vision and she nearly passed out. For several long seconds she sat there, sucking in huge mouthfuls of air. Her pulse hammered and the clammy feeling grew stronger.

She wiped at her brow, holding her palm over her forehead. It was then she realized she still had an IV attached to her arm and the bag was hanging above the couch on a hat rack.

She started to pry the tape away from her arm so she could remove the IV when her nape prickled.

“What the fuck, P.J.?”

She looked up to see Cole suddenly looming over her, a dark scowl on his face. Where had he come from? Her mouth went dry and her hand fell away from the tape. Cole immediately dropped down to one knee and refastened the tape over the port site.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he demanded.

P.J. sighed wearily. The last thing she wanted was a confrontation.

“P.J., look at me.”

She forced her gaze upward in response to his fierce command.

“Where the hell have you been all this time?”

She could tell he was visibly trying to keep his temper in check. If she weren’t hurt, he’d probably be letting her have it with both barrels, and that pissed her off because she just wanted things to be normal and they never would be again.

“Hunting Brumley and his minions,” she said bluntly.

“Yeah, I saw your handiwork on the two guys who were with Brumley that night.”

She refused to let shame crawl into her soul. Nor would she try to determine if there was condemnation in his tone.

“Look, Cole, I quit the team. You shouldn’t be here. None of you. I walked away.”

She saw Renshaw stir and she quickly glanced in Dolphin’s direction to see that he was already awake. He was sitting quietly, his mouth drawn into a pinch, his focus on the conversation between her and Cole.

“I have a mission to complete,” she said. “And I can’t accomplish it by sitting on my ass while I’m being babied by my former teammates.”

Cole’s lips curled and fire blazed in his eyes. “Former, my ass. Over my dead body will you go off on your own. You’re lucky you weren’t killed or that they didn’t get their hands on you again.”

Forgetting the others, she pushed herself forward on the edge of the couch and farther into Cole’s space, bristling with as much anger as she saw in his own expression.

“This isn’t a righteous mission, Cole. It’s personal.”

“Do you think it isn’t goddamn personal for me too?” he all but roared at her.

“I can’t involve you—any of you—in my mission,” she yelled back. “It’s not who KGI is. Never has been. I won’t drag this organization through the mud. This is bloody. It’s revenge, Cole.”

“I damn well know it,” he snarled. “And I want in. We all want in. If you think we’re just going to leave you hanging in the wind, you’re out of your goddamn mind.”

She covered her face with her hands and propped her elbows on her knees. She was exhausted and heartsick. This wasn’t what she wanted to happen.

Firm hands gripped her wrists and carefully pried her hands from her face. This time when she glanced back up at Cole, she could see Donovan and Steele in the background. Baker was standing behind Renshaw’s chair. All eyes were on her. Their expressions were grim and . . . determined.

“We—I—don’t give a fuck if the mission is righteous or whether the motivation behind us taking Brumley out is revenge or to prevent more women and children from being brutalized. We stand with you, P.J. We’re family. You aren’t doing this alone so get over it.”

“I’m going after Brumley,” she said. “He’s doing a deal in Jakarta in three weeks and I’m going to be there. I’m taking him out.”

“Not without us,” Cole bit out. “It’s time for you to suck it up and learn to lean on someone.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Steele interjected.

Surprised, she lifted her gaze to her team leader and then glanced at Donovan. It was one thing for her team to pledge such a thing, but Donovan represented the organization. Surely he couldn’t be in agreement with the others.

Donovan crossed his arms over his chest and stared challengingly back at her.

“If you think I’m going to toe the company line and lecture everyone on vigilante justice, you’ve got the wrong guy. That’s Sam’s job. I’m of the mind that taking Brumley out—however we take him out—will mean one less asshole in the world.”

“Hooyah,” Dolphin said emphatically. “That’s what I’m talking about.”

“Oh, and P.J.?”

She looked up at Steele when he said her name.

“You can take your resignation and stick it up your ass.”

Baker and Renshaw chuckled. Dolphin grinned and snickered and Donovan nodded his agreement.

“Looks like you’re stuck with us,” Cole said with clear satisfaction.

She blew out her breath, shaking her head the entire time. It had to be the medication that had her tripping like this.

“I don’t even know what to say.”

“How about yes sir, when I tell you that you’re going to take it easy and recover as much as possible over the next three weeks,” Cole said.

Her brow wrinkled in disgust even as her chest tightened with unexpected emotion. God, it felt good to be back with her team. All the ribbing. The smart-ass remarks. Cutting jokes and insults left and right.

“For God’s sake, don’t cry,” Cole said in disgust.

The others laughed and P.J. smiled through the pain, her eyes stinging with those unshed tears.

“Thank you,” she said sincerely.

“Now you’re just pissing me off,” Steele said. “You don’t thank us for doing our job. We live as a team and we die as a team, and you thinking you walked away is bullshit. You don’t take a piss without my say-so, you got that, Rutherford?”

She smiled, and it felt like the first time she’d truly smiled in a lifetime. God it felt good to be surrounded by the people she considered family. She’d never been as alone as she had in the last months when she didn’t have her team around her.

Her team.

“Yes sir,” she said briskly.