Shades of Gray

CHAPTER 31

THE ride to the Kelly compound was tense and silent. Cole attempted to make small talk several times, but P.J.’s mind was preoccupied with the upcoming meeting with all the Kelly women.

The truth was, they made her uncomfortable. She had no idea what to say around them. Had nothing in common with them. She had no idea what to say about babies and girly stuff, and the very last thing she wanted was some come-to-Jesus moment where they got touchy-feely and bared their souls.

The mere idea had her in hives.

But Cole had arranged it because he truly cared about her, and she knew he had her best interests at heart. So how could she possibly refuse without being an ungrateful bitch?

She couldn’t.

Cole had been so nervous and so worried that he’d stepped over the line that she would have done anything at all to reassure him.

So what if she’d rather face an entire squad of crazy-ass terrorists than four other women?

After what she’d put him through last night, she owed him a lot, and if it made him feel better, she’d endure damn near anything.

When they pulled into the compound, P.J.’s eyes widened at the progress that had been made. It looked very much near to completion. There was a helipad, training facilities and a firing range. The only thing that looked as though it wasn’t finished was the single airstrip where the Kelly jets could land and be hangared.

A lot had happened in six months. She suddenly felt out of the loop. A stranger among people she’d worked with for four years.

Her eyes widened when she saw a group at the firing range. She recognized Nathan, Joe and Swanny but not the other two with them. And one of them was a woman. Her blond hair was gathered into a ponytail and she wore a baseball cap, but it was obvious she was female.

She was much smaller in stature than the man she stood beside. He dwarfed her, but then he was bigger than Nathan, Joe and Swanny. Even from a distance she could tell he was a big, muscled man.

“New recruits?” she asked lightly.

“She’s not replacing you, P.J.”

P.J. blinked. Okay, so maybe the thought had crossed her mind. Not that she was being replaced, exactly, but that maybe before they’d found P.J. again they’d brought this woman on board to fill the vacant spot on Steele’s team.

“She’s on Nathan and Joe’s team. Donovan has wanted to add a third team for a while. Nathan and Joe are taking it. Swanny’s on it and they recruited Skylar and Zane.”

“Oh,” P.J. said, trying to ignore the surge of relief that flooded her.

He continued driving past the range and to the houses that were nestled at the back of the massive expanse of land that KGI owned.

“Ethan and Rachel’s house is done,” P.J. said.

“Yep. Everyone’s is finished. Well, except for Van and Joe’s. Van’s the holdout. He’s still living in the log cabin on the lake and Joe’s been bunking with him. But everyone who is married is living inside the compound.”

“Even Marlene and Frank?”

Cole smiled. “They don’t want to move from their house. They say there are way too many memories wrapped up in the house they raised their family in. Sam’s pissed about it, and last I heard, he and Garrett were trying to have an exact replica of their house built here.”

P.J. nodded. “After what happened to Marlene, I can imagine her sons’ worry. She needs to be safe. KGI is only going to gain more enemies as time goes by. They certainly aren’t going to be making any friends.”

“That’s true. It’s why Steele and I didn’t want you to stay alone in Denver. You’d be a much easier target. I’m sure Brumley isn’t just sitting around twiddling his thumbs and waiting for you to flush him out of whatever dark hole he’s crawled into.”

P.J.’s face darkened into a scowl. “I wish the son of a bitch would find me. Would save me the trouble of going after his ass.”

Cole reached for her hand and squeezed. “We’ll get him, P.J.”

As they rolled to a stop in front of one of the houses, P.J. suffered another bout of nervousness. Which was pretty stupid considering she’d faced gun-wielding maniacs and dodged grenades and countless other explosives plus an entire army of crazy-ass terrorists with machine guns all shooting at her.

She didn’t wait for Cole to come around to help her. It suddenly seemed important that she could make it on her own and that she wouldn’t show any weakness.

It nearly killed her to put her injured leg down and put weight on it, but she gritted her teeth and used the door for leverage as she got out.

Before she and Cole made it to the front of the vehicle, Sam met them at the steps to his house.

He gave P.J. a long, assessing look. “How are you?” he asked quietly.

She swallowed. Okay, this was definitely awkward. She really didn’t want to get into any particulars with Sam. She cleared her throat of the knot forming. “I’m fine. Cole’s taking good care of me.”

“Sophie and the others are around back on the patio playing with Charlotte. Can you make it or do you need help?”

“I’m fine,” P.J. muttered again.

Her damnable pride was rearing its ugly head again, but she was not going to ask her boss for help. He was likely pissed off enough at her as it was. She’d probably caused him enough grief for an entire year.

She limped toward the gate that would take her around to the back of the house. It made her a total chickenshit that she wanted Cole with her, and she knew he’d come if only she asked. But this was supposed to be for her. Cole had gone to a lot of trouble, and she didn’t want to let him down. She didn’t want to let herself down.

She hesitated when she heard a child’s shriek of laughter and the accompanying laughter from the adults. She stood at the corner, watching the blond-haired little imp run after a golden retriever puppy while the women sat on the steps of the deck watching with big smiles on their faces.

They didn’t look like women who’d undergone the same kind of shit P.J. had been through, even though she knew differently. P.J. had been a part of each mission that had brought these women back home where they belonged. And they’d all endured their own version of hell. They were survivors. They were fierce. And shit, it killed her to admit it, but they intimidated her because she didn’t feel like she measured up. Especially after her freak-out last night.

She continued to watch from a distance, her gut tightening more with each passing moment. Of the four women, P.J. knew the least about Sarah. She was quieter and more withdrawn than the others. It always made P.J. grin that Garrett stayed in trouble with her over his potty mouth and was forever slipping up when she wasn’t around.

Cole had told her that she’d been raped before she and Garrett had met and that Sarah’s brother had killed the man responsible. P.J. had silently cheered him on, even back then before her own attack had happened.

A man couldn’t be all bad if he was willing to take out the monster responsible for hurting his sister.

P.J. most identified with Sophie, Sam’s wife. She was a fighter. Even five months pregnant and running for her life, she’d kicked some pretty serious ass. Hell, she’d even shot her own father. That took some balls.

But Rachel was also a resilient, kick-ass survivor in her own quiet way. Of all of them, she’d endured the most for the longest. A year in hell. One P.J. couldn’t even begin to imagine or fathom. What Rachel had suffered made what P.J. had experienced seem insignificant in comparison. P.J. had worried that Rachel may not ever fully recover. P.J. had been there when Ethan had carried her out of the jungle. She’d seen Rachel at her lowest point. But she’d come a long way from that frightened, powerless victim she’d been, and she’d made great strides thanks to the support network around her.

P.J. was envious of that if she was honest with herself. Every single Kelly would lay down his life for her or any of the other Kelly women. No hesitation. No regrets.

She was so absorbed in her analysis of the women that she failed to notice Sophie walking her way until the other woman was directly in front of her.

“Hi, P.J.,” Sophie said with a smile. “Cole said you were coming over. I’m very happy you did.”

P.J.’s palms were damp but she resisted the urge to wipe them down her pants. She managed a convincing smile back.

“Er, thanks for having me. I mean, it was nice of you guys to put your day on hold.”

Sophie waved her hand. “Come on over. The only part of the day we put on hold was the opening of the wine. Now that you’re here, we’re going to remedy that.” She finished with a genuine, warm smile that made P.J. relax and lose some of the awful tension in her gut.

She limped behind Sophie and found herself the object of scrutiny of the other three women as they watched her approach. Sure enough, as Sophie had said, there was a wine bottle and glasses on the patio table.

It reeked of a girly social. All that was missing was a teapot, some cute little mini sandwiches with the crusts cut off and some funky dip that looked like a cat puked in the bowl.

P.J. was more used to beer, bad music and even worse company. It surprised the hell out of her that she was actually starting to think this wasn’t going to be such a bad afternoon. It might even be . . . fun.

“Here’s P.J., finally home,” Sophie said. “She’s going to hang out with us today while she’s recovering. I figure she needs a break from Cole by now.” She turned back to P.J. “We’ve all been so worried about you.”

P.J. started to defend Cole, but she realized the other woman was simply teasing her. She shrugged off any remaining reluctance and offered a hesitant but genuine smile in the other women’s directions. They’d worried about her? They’d actually known she was gone? P.J. couldn’t imagine the overprotective Kellys allowing their women to know a whole lot about what went on with KGI. She wouldn’t have imagined that they would have known she’d left, much less worried over that fact.

“Hi, P.J.,” Shea offered, a broad smile widening her pretty features.

“How’s your leg?” Rachel asked in a soft voice. “Ethan said you were shot.”

P.J. looked down with a rueful smile. “It’s not too bad. A clean through and through. Could have been much worse. I’ll be back in action soon.”

Sarah shuddered. “I don’t see how you can live with the constant danger. And you’re so casual about being shot!”

“Just part of the job,” P.J. said easily. “It’s something you get used to.”

“Well, come and sit,” Sophie insisted. “Get off that leg. You need to have your feet up. Let me get you a glass of wine. I’ve told Sam to go find something to do and for the men not to bother us today. They’re probably somewhere cowering in fear of what evil plan we’re hatching.”

P.J. allowed herself to be ushered into one of the chairs, and then Shea dragged another over so she could put her leg up.

A sudden thought occurred to P.J., one that alarmed her, and she glanced up at Shea, her brow furrowed. “You aren’t going to do any of that mind-meld stuff to help my leg, are you? I know how much that hurts you, so don’t even think about it.”

Shea blinked for a moment and then burst out laughing. “Mind meld. That’s a new word for it. And to answer your question, no. I’m afraid my gift is random. I can’t connect to people at will. My sister can, but I can’t.”

P.J. felt embarrassed at just blurting it out like that, but the last thing she wanted was for Shea to take on her pain. It would piss Nathan off and cause a big fuss. Not to mention, P.J. had witnessed firsthand just how much suffering it caused Shea when she helped others with her extraordinary gift. It was her injury and she could deal with it.

Shea and her sister, Grace, who was with Rio, the other team leader, had unique abilities that defied scientific explanation. There was a whole bizarre story behind it, involving experiments and pairing certain couples with supernatural abilities together to see what offspring they produced. Shea and Grace had been two such experiments that had managed to escape and break free from the people who wanted to harness and use their abilities for their own purposes.

The whole thing was beyond P.J.’s scope of understanding. She wouldn’t have believed any of it if she hadn’t seen for herself the results of one of those mind-melding sessions.

It reminded her of her charismatic religious upbringing and the whole idea of faith healing. None of it made any sense to her.

“How is Grace?” P.J. asked, directing her question at Shea. “And Elizabeth? How is she adjusting? Do you get to see them often?”

Shea smiled ruefully. “Not as much as I’d like, but that mind-meld thing is better than a cell phone. I can talk to her whenever I want, so it makes the times I can’t see her not seem so bad. And Elizabeth is such a darling. Way too old for her age. She’s had to grow up so fast, but Grace and Rio both love her so much already.”

“I’ll admit, it was hard to picture Rio as a daddy,” P.J. said, a crook in her lip. “He’s so intense and broody. But he also has a soft spot a mile wide, so I guess it’s not so out of the realm of believability. I’m glad they’re doing well, though. The last time I saw either of them was at your wedding.”

Shea’s entire face lit up, her smile dazzling. She exchanged smiles with Sarah, with whom she’d shared a wedding. It had been the Kelly lovefest that had sent P.J. to her seedy bar in Denver in a funk. Now she realized she’d just been jealous and lonely.

It made her wince to admit that she’d actually been jealous of all the love and support of the huge Kelly family, but she was brutally honest with herself. Well, when she wasn’t in denial . . .

Sarah poured her a glass of wine and handed it across the table to P.J. but then drew up short just as P.J. reached for it.

“You haven’t taken any pain medication, have you? We didn’t even think about that. You have to be in a lot of pain and we should have had the sense not to plan wine.”

P.J. smiled at Sarah’s genuine worry. “I’m drug free. No need to worry that I’ll be stoned after a glass of wine. My last dose was yesterday evening. I’m trying not to take it unless I have to or Cole makes me.”

The others laughed.

“If Cole’s anything like our husbands, and I’m sure he’s just as much an alpha, hardheaded male, then you have your hands full,” Rachel said with a rueful smile.

“He’s been great,” P.J. said softly.

She lowered her gaze when the other women shared a smug smile, and she sipped idly at her wine, wondering when one of them was going to bring up the delicate situation that was essentially the elephant in the room. And her reason for being here in the first place.

She watched as Sophie scooped three-year-old Charlotte into a hug and then tickled the toddler’s tummy until she shrieked with laughter.

P.J. had to admit that Charlotte was a complete cutie-pie. She almost made P.J. long for sweet-smelling babies and sweet little belly laughs. Almost.

There had been a time when P.J. had considered that she was ready to settle down, have a baby or two and do the whole American pie-and-picket-fence thing. Derek had quickly dissuaded her of that notion.

He hadn’t wanted children, and moreover, he didn’t want marriage. He thought it was an outdated, old-fashioned concept and that in the modern world, it made no sense for a man to commit to one woman.

Okay, so he was a complete dickhead. She knew that then even if she hadn’t immediately given him his walking papers.

Oddly enough she’d been less tolerant of him being a dirty cop than she had been of his views on love, marriage and family.

Since then she hadn’t given any thought to anything except her job and making sure she was the best damn sniper and soldier she could be.

All plans of marriage and family had been thrown out the window. And since then, she’d decided she just wasn’t mother material. What kind of parent could she be with the job she held? She loved her job and knew she’d never be happy giving it all up for home and hearth.

She wondered what Cole’s opinions were on the subject.

She shook her head, determined not to travel that path. It was a good way to set herself up for disappointment. Besides, what the hell was she doing debating children and marriage when she was a cold-blooded murderer plotting to make her next kill?

Fat lot of good it would do her to be dreaming in a jail cell. For that matter, if she was caught in some shit-hole country, it wasn’t the U.S. justice system she’d have to worry about. She’d be in some deep, dark place subject to treatment that would make what Nelson and Brumley had done to her a total cakewalk.

Was it worth it? Was it truly worth her life to take Brumley out?

She needed no time to answer that question.

Hell yes. She didn’t even hesitate. It wasn’t just her who’d suffered at that monster’s hands. So many babies. Young women. She couldn’t even begin to think of the atrocities so many girls had suffered before. And how many would suffer in the future if she didn’t shut this asshole down.

Her life certainly was worth it when she compared it to the hundreds—thousands—of girls she could save by taking his miserable ass out.

“I have no idea what you’re thinking, but it must be pretty awful,” Sarah said.

P.J. blinked and looked at Garrett’s wife, who was sitting across from her in a lawn chair. For that matter, all the women were staring intently at her.

P.J. offered a grimace. “Nothing worth talking about. Just an asshole who needs killing.”

Sophie lifted her brow. “Several come to mind when you say that.”

Rachel gave a wave. “Don’t listen to her. She’s pretty bloodthirsty.”

P.J. cracked a grin. “She sounds like my kind of woman.”

It was then that P.J. realized Rachel wasn’t drinking any wine, and for that matter, only four glasses had been placed on the table. She frowned and held her glass in Rachel’s direction. “Do you want some wine?”

Rachel’s cheeks tinged a soft pink and her eyes lit up like twin sunbeams. Then she patted her softly rounded belly that P.J. hadn’t noticed before. P.J.’s mouth fell open.

“You’re pregnant?” P.J. asked.

“With twins!” Rachel exclaimed, her smile getting bigger all the time.

“Holy shit!”

The women all laughed at P.J.’s reaction. P.J. shook her head. “I had no idea. Looks like I’ve missed a lot in the last six months.”

“If you only knew,” Sarah muttered.

P.J. lifted her eyebrows. “What?”

Rachel sighed. “While you were AWOL, we sort of had an incident at the school where I’m teaching again. The mom and dad of one of my students split up, and the dad went bonkers and came to the school with a gun and held my class hostage. This was just a few days after I’d found out I was having twins. You can imagine that Ethan didn’t take any of this well.”

“Did they go in and take the fucker out?” P.J. demanded. Then she bit her lip, glancing in Charlotte’s direction. “Sorry.”

The others laughed.

“Yep, they did,” Sophie said with a grin. “They pissed off a whole host of people in the process, but the real heroine was Rachel.”

Rachel blushed and shook her head. “I was terrified.”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here,” P.J. said quietly. She felt protective of these women. Like they were hers. She’d had a hand in every mission that dealt with them, and it bugged her that while she’d been out seeking revenge, Rachel could have been killed.

“You’re here now,” Rachel said. “And that’s all that matters. KGI isn’t the same without you, P.J.”

Shea leaned back in her chair and pried a leaf from Charlotte’s hand before it made it to her mouth. Then she turned to look directly at P.J.

“Look, P.J., I know Cole called and talked to Sophie, and yeah, he told us about what happened to you, but we already knew. KGI is family, and even though you don’t hang around us that much, we all care about you a lot. You’ve been there for each of us when we needed someone the most. You’ve risked your life for all of us. You risk your life to keep the men we love safe. That makes you very special to us whether you know it or not. It also makes us very invested in what goes on with you. When we heard what happened, we wanted to go kick that fucker’s ass every bit as much as the guys did.”

P.J. bit the inside of her mouth to keep it from flapping open. She didn’t really know how to respond to Shea’s impassioned statement. She hadn’t ever considered that she meant crap to these women. It baffled her that they thought about her at all. She was just a member of a team that worked for or with their husbands. No one special. Certainly not family. Right?

And yet the mere word had sent a warm flush straight into her heart.

“And I said all of that to let you know that we aren’t here to psychoanalyze you. We aren’t going to pry into your thoughts. What we do want you to know is that we’re here for you. Anytime. Whatever you need. If it’s someone to talk to. If you just want a shoulder to cry on. If you just want to bitch and scream. We’re here. Never hesitate to call us or come over. You may not be a Kelly in name, but you belong to us and we take family very seriously.”

Sophie clapped, a broad smile on her face. “Very well said, Shea. Wow, you’re coming along just fine.” She turned a teasing smile toward P.J. “It wasn’t so long ago that we were having to convince her she was part of the family and that it was okay to lean on us.”

Sarah leaned forward, her expression serious, her eyes full of understanding. “I was raped too, P.J. I know what it feels like. I dealt with it by ignoring it. I shut everyone out. I just wanted to be left alone.”

“Yes,” P.J. said fiercely, finally latching on fully to part of the conversation.

Sarah’s admission was everything that P.J. had done herself, and as silly as it sounded, it made her feel not quite so alone that she wasn’t the only one who’d reacted to what had happened to her the way she had.

“I just didn’t—don’t—want to think about it,” she finished painfully.

Sarah nodded. “I get it. I do. But when you let it go like that for so long, you eventually reach a breaking point.”

P.J.’s heart thumped, making her feel a little light-headed. She wanted to confide in her so badly about what happened the night before. The words were burning her lips, but she was so ashamed, and it simply wasn’t in her nature to confide in others.

She’d always been a loner. It was something drilled into her from the time she was a child. That wasn’t going to change in the course of a single day, the first time other females extended their hand in friendship.

When a child couldn’t even count on her parents, how the hell was she supposed to be able to count on anyone else?

But who said there were rules she had to follow? Just because she was one way her entire life didn’t mean she couldn’t take steps to change, even if they were baby steps. She was tired of feeling so alone all the damn time. If that made her weak, then fine. She was weak.

She rubbed her face tiredly and sat there a long moment before she finally worked up the courage to say what she’d nearly blurted out just moments before.

“I freaked out last night,” she admitted. “I thought I was ready. I never really thought about it. I mean, I’m a logical person and I have no trouble separating out what those bastards did to me with the reality of having someone you care about touch you. I know Cole would never hurt me. I know that! And yet one minute I was in the most fantastic place in the world and the next I was in full-scale panic and hyperventilating all over the place. I no longer knew where I was or who I was with. I was so scared that I couldn’t even function. How stupid is that?”

“It’s not stupid,” Rachel said in a tone that told P.J. she knew exactly what she was talking about. “I still have episodes of panic and utter despair. Despair doesn’t even begin to describe the absolute desolation or the feeling that you’re lost in hell and no one will ever find you. I wake up in the middle of the night thinking I’m back in that horrible hotbox, in the dark, alone, knowing I have no way out.”

“I have a pretty awful confession to make,” Sarah said with a grimace. “On our wedding night, I had a panic attack when Garrett tried to make love to me. Talk about stupid. We’d made love so many times before and I was fine. Maybe it was the stress of the wedding. I have no idea. But I freaked out when he touched me, and he spent the rest of our wedding night holding and comforting me. I’ve never felt so awful in my life. I ruined what should have been the most special night of our lives.”

P.J. felt a twinge of sympathy for the other woman. She knew exactly how that felt. It was the way she’d felt the night before when she’d all but begged Cole to make love to her.

“Ahh honey, I’m sorry,” Sophie said, reaching over to squeeze Sarah’s hand. “I’m sure Garrett was fine with it. He loves you so much.”

“Oh, he was. It was me who wasn’t fine with it. I’m so tired of allowing that bastard who raped me to control my life. I don’t want him in my life or my marriage and I damn sure don’t want him in bed with me and my husband.”

The others giggled. Then Sarah stifled her own laughter and everyone joined in, laughing at the image of another man in bed with Sarah and Garrett.

It lightened the mood and injected some much-needed levity into the conversation.

“I’ll tell you like we told Shea,” Rachel began. “It may sound stupid, and the initial reaction is denial, but sometimes you just need someone to talk it out with. I avoided therapy for the longest time because it frustrated me that I needed to go see a complete stranger so that I could deal with the things that had happened to me. But once I got over that feeling of ridiculousness, it really did help.”

“Same for me,” Sarah interjected. “And I tell you something else that really, really helped. Talking to Garrett and being honest with my feelings. He’s been so understanding, and I can’t imagine Cole would be any less so.”

P.J. felt heat rise into her cheeks. “You guys are kind of assuming that Cole and I are a slam dunk.”

Sophie snorted. “Oh please. The man was a walking corpse after you pulled your disappearing act. You have that man so tied up in knots it isn’t even funny.”

The others nodded their agreement.

“Well hell,” P.J. grumbled. “It’s apparent nothing stays secret around here.”

They hooted in laughter.

“I’m afraid that’s the drawback of being part of a noisy, very close, very intrusive family. There isn’t much everyone else doesn’t know,” Shea said.

“But it’s the very best kind of family to be a part of,” Rachel said softly. “I wouldn’t trade them for the world.”

“As long as we’re making confessions, I’ll make one more,” P.J. said with a grimace. “I was dreading this. And to be honest the only reason I agreed to come was because Cole was in agony after he made the call to Sam, thinking I’d be pissed that he arranged it without talking to me first.”

The others smiled but waited for her to continue.

“But I really am enjoying myself and I want to thank you for going to all of this trouble for someone you don’t even really know.”

“You’ve done so much for all of us,” Shea said. “You say you’re just doing your job. But to us, you’ve not only put your life on the line for us individually, but you go out every time our husbands go out and you’re a big part of the reason they come home to us again. There is nothing we can ever do to repay you for that, so if there is ever anything any of us can do, we don’t just want you to ask, we expect you to ask.”

P.J. smiled, warmed through by the genuine regard and acceptance the other women had bestowed on her.

The world might well be coming to an end, because P.J. Rutherford was actually making friends.