Maya Banks - Shades of Gray

Donovan gave P.J. an injection of pain medication and then numbed the area around her wounds. Afterward he began the meticulous task of stitching the wounds closed.

“This is beyond my scope,” he admitted. “There is tissue damage that needs to be repaired, but my main concern is to get the wounds closed so infection doesn’t set in.”

He checked the pulse in her injured wrist and then did another perusal of the swelling. Then he wrapped an ice pack around it and secured it so she couldn’t move it if she awakened.

Steele ducked into the back. “How is she?”

Donovan’s shoulders heaved. “I’ve patched her up. She needs care more advanced than I can provide, but she’ll do until we get to Fort Campbell. Have you gotten us clearance to land there instead of Henry County? Will sure as hell save us some time.”

Steele nodded. “Sam’s getting it worked out now. They’re pretty pissed and they want blood. He’s called up Rio and his team. This could get messy. I told him we were staying with P.J. unless he absolutely needed us. I don’t want to leave her, but I don’t want any member of KGI getting killed either.”

Cole studied his team leader for a long moment. Steele wasn’t much of a talker. He rarely volunteered more than a terse order or a very cut-and-dried summary of a situation.

But this had shaken that legendary composure of his and melted some of the rigid ice that seemed to encase him. Anger—no, fury—burned in his eyes, making them colder than ever. His jaw was set in a permanent bulge, and he looked like he wanted to physically put his hands on someone—anyone—and make them suffer a long, painful death.

But then Steele was all about the team. The team was it for him. He lived it, breathed it. He performed his duties, and he’d never failed in a mission.

Until now.

It was a weight they all had to bear. They weren’t used to failing. They always did whatever it took and they accomplished their goal.

Well, they’d accomplished what they set out to do, but one of their own had paid a very dear price, and for Cole, that was unacceptable. It was an epic fail on their part that they couldn’t keep P.J. from harm and succeed in their mission.

It was a truth they’d all have to confront, live with and deal with in their own way, but Cole knew his team and he knew this weighed heavy on their minds and would for a long damn time.

WHEN they landed at Fort Campbell, they were met by Sam and Garrett along with the base commander who’d given permission for the jet to land. A medical team hurried in with a stretcher, and P.J. was loaded and quickly hustled away.

Cole put up a fight when they wouldn’t allow him in the transport with P.J. She was still out. Donovan had kept her medicated during the flight so she’d be pain free, but Cole didn’t want her to wake up and feel like she was back in that nightmare.

Dolphin, Baker and Renshaw restrained him, pushing him back against one of the vehicles parked nearby.

Sam and Garrett both wore fierce expressions.

“What the fuck happened, Steele? What went wrong?” Sam demanded.

Steele’s demeanor was normal for him. Cold and formidable. But his eyes told another story. Usually cool, icy even, they blazed with a fury Cole hadn’t seen in all the time he’d worked for his team leader.

Steele met Sam’s gaze unflinchingly. “I failed my team.”

Garrett swore. “Bullshit.” He glanced around at all the members of Steele’s team, almost as if he could see the same thought in all their heads. “Look, I get that you’re all feeling shitty over this but you can’t get so down on yourselves. We need facts. Not guilt.”

Steele’s lip curled but he gave the report, not leaving a single detail out. Cole closed his eyes as Steele repeated what Brumley and Nelson had done to P.J. The rest of the team stood stiffly. Dolphin looked down as if he didn’t want anyone to see his eyes or expression.

Cole just wanted to get all the chitchat over with so he could go to P.J.

“Son of a bitch,” Sam swore, closing his eyes momentarily.

“What are you doing for the shipment of girls?” Steele demanded. “We belong here, with P.J. She needs her team right now.”

“Rio and his team are already en route, and Nathan, Joe and Swanny are meeting them in Vienna. They’ve been briefed. Resnick wants Brumley alive, and he might very well get him that way, but after Rio and his team heard what the son of a bitch did to P.J., I think he may be missing a few body parts when he’s delivered.”

Cole curled his hand into a fist. He wanted to be there when Brumley was taken down. He wanted it badly. He’d never wanted to hurt someone as much as he wanted to make Brumley pay.

He’d killed people when he was a SEAL and then in his time with KGI. He was a sniper. It was his job to take people out effectively. Quickly. Quietly. But it had never been personal. He did his job without emotion because it was what he was paid to do. The people he dispatched were the bad guys. He didn’t need to justify his actions, but the world was a better place without the people KGI went up against.

But with Brumley, rage was a living, breathing fireball inside him. Cole wanted to make him suffer many times over what he’d made P.J. suffer.

“If everyone’s been briefed then can we get on with this and get back to P.J.?” Cole snapped.

“Hooyah,” Dolphin said, his lips thin.

Even Steele looked impatiently at Sam and Garrett.

“Yeah, let’s go,” Sam said, motioning toward the two parked SUVs.

P.J. opened her eyes to find her hospital room mostly dark. There was a beam of light emanating from the bathroom where the door was barely open a crack.

She glanced to the side of the bed to find Cole as he’d been for the last two days. Propped in an uncomfortable-looking chair that had been pulled up as close to her bed as it could go.

He was sleeping, a fact she was grateful for. She’d purposely taken refuge in the pain medication, not wanting to deal with her team, all gathered in her room, sympathy and anger in their eyes.

And when she was lulled into oblivion by the medication, she didn’t have to remember the leering faces of Brumley and Nelson. Didn’t have to hear their grunts, feel their bodies pressed against hers.

She closed her eyes, unable to prevent the physical reaction the memory caused.

She’d have permanent reminders of Brumley’s violation. Scars she’d wear for the rest of her life. The doctor had gently explained that some of the cuts had been too deep, too jagged, but that in time they would fade. But there would always be a mark there to signal the cuts the animal had made to her flesh.

The more she came to awareness, the more the memories crowded in until her jaw clenched and she valiantly tried to steel herself from the raw agony that clawed at her.

She stared down at her right hand, which was casted, and she was confused because she couldn’t remember how she’d broken it. Clumsily, she reached for the nurse’s call button with her left, hoping she wouldn’t wake Cole. She didn’t want to talk. Didn’t want to deal with the torment in his eyes. She just wanted oblivion.

A few moments later, the nurse hurried in and spoke to P.J. in low tones. She left once more but was back in less than five minutes with a syringe. She injected the medication into the port and P.J. closed her eyes and waited for the comforting lull to claim her.

The next time she opened her eyes, sunlight had flooded the room and her entire team was slouched in chairs surrounding her bed. Her brow instantly went clammy and nervousness flooded her.

She made eye contact with Steele first. Steele she could deal with. He was professional. He wouldn’t make her want to break down and weep like a damn crybaby.

“The girls,” she croaked out.

She frowned, cleared her throat and then blinked in surprise when Dolphin was there with a cup of water. He held it to her lips and she gratefully gulped half the contents.

When she was done she whispered her thanks and then leaned back against the pillows again.

“The girls,” she said again. “Did they get them out? Are they safe?”

Steele nodded, but his expression was still grim.

“Rio and his team went in with Nathan, Joe and Swanny. They intercepted the truck and brought down Wainwright and his entourage. The girls are on their way back stateside as we speak.”

“And Brumley? Did you get him?”

She held her breath, hope billowing forcefully into her chest.

Steele looked away, his jaw bulging. She glanced sideways toward Cole, who looked so coldly furious that she shivered.

“He escaped with his men onto the plane and took off,” Steele said in a quiet, pissed-off voice. “Rio had to make a choice between going after Brumley or saving the girls. They went after the girls.”

P.J. closed her eyes. She had no right to feel angry. The girls were more important than any sense of justice she felt needed to be exacted.

But the fact of the matter was she was gutted. Numb. While she lay in a hospital bed, Brumley and Nelson were out there. Free. Unpunished both for what they’d done to her and for what they’d done and planned to do to those babies.

She turned her face to the side, biting into her lower lip to keep her emotions in check. And then the soft brush of a caress glided over her cheek. Just one finger. The back of a knuckle. But she’d know that touch anywhere.

She should be angry with him for showing her any tenderness in front of the others. But they were all being gentle with her. Things had changed and she hated it all. How could anything ever be the same with her team?