Shades of Gray (19 page)

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Authors: Maya Banks

BOOK: Shades of Gray
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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.

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