Maya Banks - Shades of Gray

This would always be between them. They’d treat her differently. Like she was fragile instead of a teammate capable of carrying her own weight and kicking ass with the rest of them. All because she’d failed a mission. She hadn’t been able to protect herself and she’d been stupid enough and panicked enough to take a drink from a man she knew not to trust.

“P.J.”

Cole’s voice came out husky, riddled with emotion. It was there for everyone to hear.

“Look at me, please,” he begged softly.

She turned, opening her eyes to see the tortured look in his own.

“We’ll get him, P.J. I swear to you we’ll nail his ass to the wall. He’s not going to get away with this.”

No one in the room denied Cole’s terse vow. They all looked just as Cole did. Furious. Worried. Sick at heart.

Live as a team. Die as a team. She was bringing them down. They were dying with her.

She took a steadying breath, determined not to let her building rage overwhelm her. She had to stay calm and focused. One thing at a time.

“We’re driving out to the compound to meet Rio and the others,” Steele said. “Be gone several hours at the most. You need to rest. We need to know what went down in Vienna. We’ll give you whatever intel we receive. I promise.”

She nodded stiffly.

Cole was the last to stand. He was still holding her left hand, his fingers twined through hers. Then finally he rose and leaned over to brush his lips across her forehead.

“I’m going to kill that son of a bitch for you, P.J.,” he whispered.

She watched him walk away to join the others as they left her room.

“No, you aren’t,” she said quietly as her door closed, leaving her alone in the room. “I am.”

P.J. rested for an hour after her team departed. She hadn’t asked for pain meds and she wasn’t going to. She was getting out of this place.

Hearing that Brumley had escaped had done something to her soul. It was like she’d become a different person at that point. Someone harder. Necessary to get her through the pain and shame of her ordeal.

Time to suck it up and deal. Nothing worthwhile came easy. She’d learned that early on. And she’d been down before. She would never have imagined she’d reach a lower point than when she’d walked away from S.W.A.T.

But here she was, stripped of who she was, what made her the woman she was. That bastard had stolen her confidence. Her arrogance. Her cocky demeanor that held her together on the tough missions. He’d made her doubt herself and everything about her.

She wasn’t going to lie here a moment longer.

She pushed herself out of bed, going clammy as pain gripped her as soon as she put strain on the stitches. Holy hell, it hurt.

She was sore from head to toe, and the damn cuts on the insides of her thighs made standing and walking damn hard.

One of her teammates had brought a duffel bag and dropped it on the counter next to the sink. She slowly made her way to it and unzipped it to inspect the contents.

There were sweatpants, a large T-shirt that would swallow her, socks and a pair of scuffed tennis shoes.

Her chest softened when she realized that the clothing belonged to one of the guys.

But at the bottom was the knife. Brumley’s knife. The knife she’d insisted on keeping. Cole had kept it for her.

It took her several long, agonizing minutes to dress. She made sure the bandages over the cuts stayed in place and then she put the socks and shoes on. When she was done, she slipped the knife into the pocket of the sweats.

She stared at herself for a long moment in the mirror, not liking what she saw. She saw someone . . . broken. And she’d be damned if she allowed those bastards that kind of power.

She’d hunt the motherfuckers down herself.

No one. No one would ever get away with making her feel the way she’d felt that horrible night.

Revenge wasn’t just a concept, some fantasy she dreamed about. It had become her reason for being.

The longer she’d lain in this hospital room, the angrier she’d become and the more she fantasized about having the bastards at her mercy. Of making them beg for mercy. Mercy she wouldn’t provide.

They would die.

They would die for what they’d done to her and for what they’d done to countless young girls and for what they’d tried to do to those babies Rio and his team had managed to rescue.

Thank God, they were on their way home, back to their mothers and fathers. Their families.

The only family P.J. had was her team, and she couldn’t allow them to take on her vendetta. KGI wasn’t a vigilante group. She wasn’t about to turn them into one.

She walked out of her hospital room and down the hall in search of Cathy, one of the nurses P.J. had met during the countless times KGI had been through the hospital at Fort Campbell. Cathy was the closest to another female friend P.J. possessed, and it had been Cathy who’d swept in and taken charge of P.J.’s care.

Cathy was a retired naval nurse who’d moved to Kentucky with her husband, and they both worked on base. She was a brisk, no-nonsense woman whose bluntness had always been appreciated by P.J.

When she got close to the nurse’s station, Cathy looked up and then did a double take. To her credit she didn’t say anything, but she shot out of her chair and rushed around to meet P.J. in the hall.

She quickly drew P.J. into the family room where it was just the two of them and then lit into P.J. with both barrels.

“What the fuck are you doing up?” she demanded. “You should have your ass in bed. I was just preparing to bring you some pain medication.”

“I need out of here,” P.J. said in a low voice. “I can’t stay here another day. I need your help.”

Cathy’s eyes widened. “You want to do what?”

“Your shift is almost over, right? Give me a ride out of here.”

“And where the hell are you going to go? What you need is to stay your ass in bed and let me and the others take care of you for a while. It won’t kill you to depend on others for once.”

P.J. very much wanted to hug the older woman but wouldn’t allow herself the weakness. “I have to do this, Cathy. I don’t expect you to understand.”

Her expression softened. “Honey, you’re not just physically injured. You’ve got a lot to deal with that has nothing to do with stitches or a broken hand. You need to be surrounded by people who care for you right now. Not off on your own with whatever harebrained scheme you’ve concocted.”

“I need to go,” P.J. said in a quiet, determined voice. “Will you help me or do I have to go myself?”

Cathy made a sound of disgust. “You’ll get that pretty ass of yourself shot up by the night guard. For the love of God, P.J., you’re on a military base. You can’t just waltz around like you own the place.”

P.J. gave her a crooked grin. “I’m just a civilian, remember? I can’t be expected to keep up with all those military rules.”

“You’re going to try sneaking out if I don’t help you, aren’t you?”

P.J. nodded, her expression growing somber.

“Fuck me,” Cathy muttered. “Do you have any idea what those men of yours are going to do if they find out I was the one who aided and abetted you?”

“Just throw a hooyah in Cole and Dolphin’s direction. It’ll all be all right then.”

“You’re so damn irreverent,” Cathy said in exasperation. “Navy sticks together, you know. I ought to turn your ass in and then cuff that good arm to the bed.”

P.J. glanced down at the awkward cast. Her shooting hand. She needed those fingers steady.

“How long until this heals?” she asked seriously.

“Few weeks in that cast, and you should be good. Hairline fractures of three fingers. Once the swelling and bruising goes down, they should heal quickly, but only if you don’t try to rush things. Give yourself the time you need and don’t try anything stupid or you’ll be sorry. I’m only going to help you if you swear to me that you’ll take care of yourself and give yourself time to heal. Do we have a deal?”

P.J. slowly nodded. “Thanks, Cathy. I owe you.”

“You don’t owe me a damn thing,” Cathy said, her voice thick with emotion. “I have a twelve-year-old niece. Those girls you saved. They could have been my niece. Any one of them. You did a good thing, P.J. You sacrificed too much, but you saved them.”

P.J. blinked away the betraying moisture in her eyes. “How much longer until you get off?”

Cathy checked her watch. “Well now that I don’t have to give you meds and take your vitals, give me five minutes and I’ll be clocking out. Stay put and I’ll come get you when it’s time to go. We’ll take the stairs down and hope to hell no one looks at us too closely.”

She studied P.J. a little closer and then rubbed her chin. “Tell you what. I’ll bring you some scrubs. It’ll draw less attention than you walking down looking like some street urchin in those clothes.”

P.J. smiled. “Thanks.”

“Now sit and rest until I come get you,” Cathy said with a scowl.

P.J. gratefully sank into a chair as she cemented her next course of action. The very first thing she needed was to go back to Denver and take care of a few things there and then take the time to heal. As much as it pained her, she knew Cathy was right. There was absolutely nothing she could do in her present state. And she needed the time alone to come to terms with what had happened. Without the smothering presence of her team members. They all had jobs to do, and as long as she was a weak link, they weren’t going to be able to perform.