Shades of Gray (KGI 6)

Since Steele had all but hijacked a Kelly jet—without permission—P.J. figured he had enough to answer for without taking the blame for her crimes.

After the adrenaline had worn off and Cole was sure of P.J.’s safety, his injury hit him a lot harder than it had initially. He’d lost a lot of blood and had begun to weaken during the flight home.

Without Donovan, they had limited medical aid they could give him, but Steele changed the dressing often and made sure he had pain medication to keep him calm and still.

P.J. hovered next to Cole, never leaving him. She held his hand, bullied him mercilessly and vowed to kick his ass if he even thought about doing something stupid like dying.

Steele tried to get her to rest—she was in little better shape than Cole—but she remained steadfast in her refusal to leave Cole’s side.

She was literally drooping, pain gnawing at her body, when she felt a prick and turned, stunned, to see that Steele had injected her in the arm.

“What the hell was that?” she demanded.

“Something for pain and something that’ll help you rest. You’re about to fall over and anyone with eyes can see you’re in agony. Give it up, P.J. You aren’t helping Cole by hanging over him looking like something the cat dragged in. He’s worried sick about you, so he won’t calm down and rest.”

The medication was already making her swimmy. Her limbs grew heavy and her eyes were increasingly harder to keep open.

“Damn it, Steele,” she slurred out.

“Curse at me later,” he bit out and then promptly caught her as she fell over.

Cole picked his head up, his lips drawn into a grim line of satisfaction. “Thanks, Steele. I was worried she was going to fall over any second. She needs the rest. She got the hell beat out of her back there.”

“You didn’t fare so well yourself,” Steele said dryly.

Steele laid her down, brushed the hair from her face and then carefully arranged a blanket over her. Then he returned to Cole.

“How bad is it?” he asked tersely.

“Hurts like a son of a bitch, but I’ll live,” Cole said. “Nothing I haven’t lived with before.”

Steele sat down in one of the armchairs across from the couch where P.J. and Cole were both sprawled.

“You both could have gotten yourselves killed.”

Cole nodded. “Yeah, we could have. But P.J. didn’t let that happen. She’s a mean son of a bitch when she gets pissed.”

A half smile cracked Steele’s lips. “Yeah, I hear you.”

Cole sobered and then stared over at his team leader. “How’s this going to play out for me and P.J. being on the same team?”

Steele was silent for a moment.

“I won’t sacrifice my relationship with her for a job,” Cole said.

Steele snorted. “It’s a good damn thing, because I have no intention of letting either one of you go. It’s annoying the shit out of me that I’m going to be out of action for the next while because two of my team members are going to be laid up and then you’re probably going to want time off for a goddamn honeymoon.”

Cole grinned. A honeymoon sounded pretty damn good. He glanced to where P.J. was passed out on the couch. They both had some healing to do, but the future was looking pretty damn bright.

Then he looked back to Steele and sobered. “How is this going to go down with Sam? I know we fucked up. I’ll take full responsibility.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Steele said rudely. “I’ll take care of Sam.”

Cole grinned and relaxed. Steele was a complete hardass but Cole wouldn’t work for anyone else in the world. The day Steele no longer led a KGI team was the day Cole hung up his gun and became an average Joe with a nine-to-five job.

“Get some rest,” Steele said. “We don’t land for several more hours and you’re going straight to the base hospital.”

Cole groaned. “I swear, they need to just reserve a room with my name on it as many damn times as I’ve been in there.”

“Between you and P.J., they’re going to need to name an entire wing for you,” Steele said dryly.

CHAPTER 39

P.J. was technically released from the hospital before Cole, but she’d insisted on staying by his bedside until the army doctor thought he was well enough to be discharged.

Steele arrived on the day Cole was being released. In terse tones, he told them that Sam wanted the team at the KGI compound. He wouldn’t say anything more when pressed, and that worried P.J.

It was the day of reckoning. A day she’d known would come. She just wished Cole and the rest of her team wasn’t involved.

The ride from Fort Campbell to the KGI compound was tense and silent. Cole’s hand crept over P.J.’s and he squeezed as if to say it would be all right. But neither spoke, and she knew that the impending confrontation weighed heavily on Cole’s mind every bit as much as it did on hers.

Even Dolphin, who typically had something to say for every occasion, was as silent as the rest of the team.

Steele drove while P.J. and Cole sat in the middle seat with Renshaw and Baker in the back. Dolphin rode shotgun, and it was the longest P.J. could ever remember no words being exchanged between the teammates.

Were they angry with her? Resentful? Pissed because she’d dragged them into her own personal vendetta?

She was torturing herself with all the possibilities.

By the time they pulled into the compound, P.J. was a wreck.

Since Steele had all but hijacked a Kelly jet—without permission—P.J. figured he had enough to answer for without taking the blame for her crimes.

After the adrenaline had worn off and Cole was sure of P.J.’s safety, his injury hit him a lot harder than it had initially. He’d lost a lot of blood and had begun to weaken during the flight home.

Without Donovan, they had limited medical aid they could give him, but Steele changed the dressing often and made sure he had pain medication to keep him calm and still.

P.J. hovered next to Cole, never leaving him. She held his hand, bullied him mercilessly and vowed to kick his ass if he even thought about doing something stupid like dying.

Steele tried to get her to rest—she was in little better shape than Cole—but she remained steadfast in her refusal to leave Cole’s side.

She was literally drooping, pain gnawing at her body, when she felt a prick and turned, stunned, to see that Steele had injected her in the arm.

“What the hell was that?” she demanded.

“Something for pain and something that’ll help you rest. You’re about to fall over and anyone with eyes can see you’re in agony. Give it up, P.J. You aren’t helping Cole by hanging over him looking like something the cat dragged in. He’s worried sick about you, so he won’t calm down and rest.”

The medication was already making her swimmy. Her limbs grew heavy and her eyes were increasingly harder to keep open.

“Damn it, Steele,” she slurred out.

“Curse at me later,” he bit out and then promptly caught her as she fell over.

Cole picked his head up, his lips drawn into a grim line of satisfaction. “Thanks, Steele. I was worried she was going to fall over any second. She needs the rest. She got the hell beat out of her back there.”

“You didn’t fare so well yourself,” Steele said dryly.

Steele laid her down, brushed the hair from her face and then carefully arranged a blanket over her. Then he returned to Cole.

“How bad is it?” he asked tersely.

“Hurts like a son of a bitch, but I’ll live,” Cole said. “Nothing I haven’t lived with before.”

Steele sat down in one of the armchairs across from the couch where P.J. and Cole were both sprawled.

“You both could have gotten yourselves killed.”

Cole nodded. “Yeah, we could have. But P.J. didn’t let that happen. She’s a mean son of a bitch when she gets pissed.”

A half smile cracked Steele’s lips. “Yeah, I hear you.”

Cole sobered and then stared over at his team leader. “How’s this going to play out for me and P.J. being on the same team?”

Steele was silent for a moment.

“I won’t sacrifice my relationship with her for a job,” Cole said.

Steele snorted. “It’s a good damn thing, because I have no intention of letting either one of you go. It’s annoying the shit out of me that I’m going to be out of action for the next while because two of my team members are going to be laid up and then you’re probably going to want time off for a goddamn honeymoon.”

Cole grinned. A honeymoon sounded pretty damn good. He glanced to where P.J. was passed out on the couch. They both had some healing to do, but the future was looking pretty damn bright.

Then he looked back to Steele and sobered. “How is this going to go down with Sam? I know we fucked up. I’ll take full responsibility.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Steele said rudely. “I’ll take care of Sam.”

Cole grinned and relaxed. Steele was a complete hardass but Cole wouldn’t work for anyone else in the world. The day Steele no longer led a KGI team was the day Cole hung up his gun and became an average Joe with a nine-to-five job.

“Get some rest,” Steele said. “We don’t land for several more hours and you’re going straight to the base hospital.”

Cole groaned. “I swear, they need to just reserve a room with my name on it as many damn times as I’ve been in there.”

“Between you and P.J., they’re going to need to name an entire wing for you,” Steele said dryly.

CHAPTER 39

P.J. was technically released from the hospital before Cole, but she’d insisted on staying by his bedside until the army doctor thought he was well enough to be discharged.

Steele arrived on the day Cole was being released. In terse tones, he told them that Sam wanted the team at the KGI compound. He wouldn’t say anything more when pressed, and that worried P.J.

It was the day of reckoning. A day she’d known would come. She just wished Cole and the rest of her team wasn’t involved.

The ride from Fort Campbell to the KGI compound was tense and silent. Cole’s hand crept over P.J.’s and he squeezed as if to say it would be all right. But neither spoke, and she knew that the impending confrontation weighed heavily on Cole’s mind every bit as much as it did on hers.

Even Dolphin, who typically had something to say for every occasion, was as silent as the rest of the team.

Steele drove while P.J. and Cole sat in the middle seat with Renshaw and Baker in the back. Dolphin rode shotgun, and it was the longest P.J. could ever remember no words being exchanged between the teammates.

Were they angry with her? Resentful? Pissed because she’d dragged them into her own personal vendetta?

She was torturing herself with all the possibilities.

By the time they pulled into the compound, P.J. was a wreck.

They parked outside the war room and got out, Dolphin and Steele helping P.J. and Cole. But she was determined to walk into this meeting with no vulnerability. She didn’t want it said she played on anyone’s sympathies, so she shook off Dolphin’s supportive arm and strode toward the entrance, ignoring the protests of her leg.

Her face was a mess, bruised and still swollen from her fight with Brumley. The X-rays had shown no fracture of her jaw, though Cathy had sworn it was broken when P.J. had been brought in.

Chewing would be tough for a while, but she could deal.

She punched in the security code to gain access into the war room and she walked—or rather strode stiffly in her attempt not to limp—into the room where the Kelly brothers were gathered.

She frowned as she glanced around. It was just the Kellys; well, not even all of them. Nathan and Joe weren’t present.

Hell, not even Ethan was there, which meant that this was going to be a come-to-Jesus moment between the three men who officially ran KGI and the team that was in the proverbial dog house.

“P.J.,” Donovan said in greeting. “I’d say you’re looking good, but even I can’t pull off that kind of lie with a straight face.”

She relaxed at the teasing and grinned crookedly at him. Damn, but it even hurt to smile.

The rest of her team filed in behind her, and an awkward silence fell over the room.

Cole came up behind her and put his arm around her shoulders, pulling her in close to him. It was obvious he was sending a message to everyone. He was with her. He had her back, and whatever affected her, affected him.

Sam cleared his throat and leaned against the edge of the large planning table in the middle of the room. Donovan and Garrett flanked him, and all of their expressions were serious.

“We have a serious problem here,” Sam began. “KGI as an organization can’t be associated with vigilantism. The Austrian government is screaming. The U.S. government is screaming. Resnick is screaming. And I’m stuck playing dumb about it all. While the respective governments may swallow my cock-and-bull story, Resnick’s not going to bite. He knows better.”

“Fuck him,” Cole said rudely.

Donovan coughed and covered his mouth. P.J. could swear he was holding back laughter, but then his expression reverted back to that pinched tight-ass look his brothers were wearing.

Sam held up a hand. “Resnick is mollified by the information we were able to provide him. Of course we wouldn’t explain how we came by it, but he’s about to cream himself because he has the leverage to bring down a lot of the big players in child trafficking, which in turn gives him more power, which in turn gives him more protection. He’s skated a pretty thin line with the shit that went down with Shea and Grace, and he’s spent plenty of time wondering when he was going to be taken out. This gives him plenty of insurance, so to speak. Before long, the damn president’s going to fear Resnick. If he doesn’t already.”

“So get to the point,” Steele said impatiently, speaking for the first time. “Two of my team members were only discharged from the hospital a couple of hours ago. You wanted us here, but they need to be in bed.”

Garrett cleared his throat. “After much discussion between the three of us, it’s been decided that as a disciplinary measure, Cole and P.J. are going to be put on administrative leave, effective immediately for a period of sixty days, and both will have to undergo a full medical exam and receive clearance from the physician before they can report back for duty.”

Cole’s brow furrowed. “Administrative leave? What the fuck does that mean?”

“It means you’re out of action with pay for the next two months,” Donovan said, a twinkle in his eye.

“Steele, you’ll report to the KGI facilities five days from now with Dolphin, Renshaw and Baker and you’ll head training of the newest KGI team until we’re satisfied they’re capable of working on their own,” Sam continued. “They’re good. But good isn’t acceptable. We want the best.”

P.J. stared between the brothers, her eyes narrowing suspiciously. Two months’ paid leave? Steele reporting to train new recruits? This all sounded like talking out the other side of their mouths. We have to sanction you, but oh, here’s your cushy punishment.

It sounded an awful lot like a way for her and Cole to recover with full pay and not feel pressured to return to the job too soon.

Her eyes stung and she hastily wiped at one with the back of her hand, embarrassed as hell that she was all choked up with emotion.

Damn but she loved working for these guys.

Even Steele wore a smirk that said he saw right through Sam’s bullshit.

Sam turned his gaze on Cole and P.J.

“I don’t want to see either of you for the next two months. I don’t even want to know you exist. For the next two months you’re straight civilians and I better not have to bail your asses out of trouble. Got it?”

P.J. and Cole both nodded at the same time, and Cole squeezed P.J.’s shoulders. She didn’t dare try to say anything, because she didn’t trust herself not to do something completely stupid like get all choked up or, God forbid, start hugging people.

“That’s all I have to say,” Sam said. “You’re all dismissed. Steele, I’ll see you and your guys in five days. P.J. and Cole, I better not see you period.”

Grinning, her team turned to walk out the door. They all knew the entire disciplinary action was bullshit. As P.J. turned to walk out with Cole, Sam called out to her.

“P.J., a word if you don’t mind.”

She paused and then said to Cole, “Wait for me outside?”

Cole surprised her by kissing her right there in front of God and everybody. But then he had less of a problem with public displays of affection than P.J. did. She wasn’t as comfortable letting everyone in the world see into her personal life.

“I’ll be right outside,” he said as he walked behind Steele.

P.J. turned to Sam, feeling nervous now that it was just her and the Kelly brothers. But Garrett walked past her, evidently not hanging around for whatever Sam wanted to say to her. Donovan also left Sam’s side, but he stopped in front of P.J. and then pulled her into a hug.

“I’m very proud of you, P.J.,” he murmured against her ear. “And I’m damn glad you’re back where you belong.”

Her stomach dropped. She returned his hug fiercely, not even realizing until that moment just how much she needed to hear that.

He let her go, touched a finger to her bruised face and then followed Garrett out.

It was just her and Sam in the room and she bravely faced him, determined to take whatever it was he would say. She deserved his censure. Deserved it publicly, though she was grateful he seemed inclined to do it privately.

“How are you, really, P.J?” Sam asked quietly.

Startled, she could only stare at him. She didn’t even know how to answer his question, because in truth, she didn’t know how she was. She hadn’t had time to evaluate her situation or how she felt about anything at all, because her entire focus had been on Cole and his recovery.

“I think I’m okay,” she said truthfully. And maybe she was. She felt lighter. Not as weighed down. Not as angry.

“I’m glad to hear it. We’ve—I’ve—been worried about you. I don’t want to lose you. You’re too good. You’re family.”

Her mouth wobbled and she steeled herself, determined to be professional.