Shades of Gray - Maya Banks Page 0,81
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