Darkest Before Dawn (KGI #10)(103)

“If we needed a male to use as bait, would any of you even hesitate to volunteer?” Skylar challenged. “I distinctly remember Nathan taking the place of the pilot of the plane that was going to fly Maren and Caldwell to wherever the f*ck he was taking her. No one made any bones about risking him.”

The KGI men exchanged uneasy looks because they were well and truly f*cked. If they insisted on not risking Skylar, it sent the wrong message. That she wasn’t an equal when she was in every possible way. That they didn’t trust her to be able to take care of herself and do her job.

“Just listen to me before you hand down your decree from on high,” Skylar said with heavy sarcasm.

“Honor is small. We’re almost exactly the same height. She’s thinner than me, but she’s been through hell so that’s to be expected. But we’re both blond and I don’t have to get up close and personal for them to get a detailed look. They just need to see who they think is Honor trussed up like a Thanksgiving turkey about to be delivered to ANE.

“We bruise me up. Not literally,” she added hastily when every single expression in the plane blackened to rage. “Makeup is a useful tool. We make me appear as she was when we found her. And I’ll pretend unconsciousness, which they would expect since they seem to have a predilection for drugged women,” she added in disgust.

“The point is, me being Honor gets us in. The rest is up to us, Resnick’s teams and whoever the hell else Uncle Sam decides to send. You know it’s a damn good plan and if you’d set aside your manly thirteenth-century egos for two seconds, you’d recognize that it’s the only way we achieve our objective.”

“Well f*ck,” Garrett muttered.

Edge didn’t look any happier than he had in the beginning, but he pressed his lips together, obviously refusing to give voice to the torrent of objections he wanted to launch.

“She’s right,” Sam said quietly. “Goddamn it, I don’t have to like it—I don’t like it. I f*cking hate it—but she’s right. But I want her covered at all times.”

P.J. reached over and squeezed Skylar’s hand. “Thank you. I didn’t intend for you to do it. I wasn’t setting you up to be the bait. I would have done it, dyed my hair, whatever. But . . .”

She looked embarrassed and vulnerable, enough so for Cole to slide his hand around her nape and squeeze gently in comfort and support.

“I’m not sure I could have done it,” P.J. admitted. “I don’t know if I could trust myself not to freak out, and that shames me, especially since I’m relieved that you’ll be doing it and not me. It makes me a f*cking coward,” she added in disgust, emotion glittering brightly in eyes that were usually unreadable.

Hancock had had enough of this brave woman browbeating herself when she was one of the fiercest women he’d ever known. He stalked over to her, ignoring the fact that Cole immediately bristled and tried to maneuver P.J. behind him.

Hancock stopped in front of P.J. and knelt so he was on eye level with her.

“Don’t you ever call yourself a f*cking coward,” he said, allowing every bit of his pissed-off tone to be heard. “You have the heart of a warrior and you are one of the bravest people—that’s right, people, not women—I’ve ever known. I have no doubt you could take down every single one of your team members in a fight and they know it. We all know it. What you did, what you went through was the most selfless act I’ve ever witnessed. Until Honor . . .”

He trailed off as sorrow filled his voice.

Cole looked stunned by Hancock’s impassioned defense of P.J. Respect glimmered in his eyes as he and Hancock exchanged a look of understanding. The rest of KGI didn’t look any less astonished. Except Rio, who looked as though he would have expected nothing less.

Hancock collected himself, because he wasn’t finished. He abruptly got up and then went to where Skylar sat, and as he had with P.J., he knelt and took both her hands in his, making sure his touch was gentle and not bruising because of the seething rage imprinted in his bones.

“Thank you,” he said in a low voice. “For risking yourself for a woman you don’t know and for a dishonorable man who has caused much trouble for all of you in the past. I don’t deserve the help you are unconditionally offering, but you have my heartfelt gratitude—and know this.”

He paused and speared her with his gaze, stared until he was sure she was looking directly at him, seeing him. The heart of him.

“If there is ever a time when you need help. If you need anything at all, you only have to contact me. I’ll come. No matter what. I can never hope to repay my debt to you all, but I can only try.”

Skylar surprised him by leaning forward and wrapping her arms around him, hugging him carefully, ensuring she didn’t cause him further pain. He went stiff, caught totally off guard and not at all sure what he was supposed to do. Nobody hugged him. Except Honor. And his sister.

“It will be all right, Hancock,” Skylar whispered close to his ear. “All is not lost. You’ve given up and you can’t do that. Is she worth fighting for? If so, then fight. Do you hear me? You fight, Guy Hancock.”

He hugged her back and rested his chin atop her head.

“You’re a very special woman, Skylar,” he said, weariness creeping into his voice.

“Go to Honor, Hancock,” Donovan said quietly. “Your head isn’t in the game right now. You need to reassure yourself she’s okay. We’ll keep you in the loop. We aren’t benching you, though God knows you’re in no shape to be doing anything but lying in a hospital bed, but if it were Eve or any of our wives, we wouldn’t stand down even if we were at death’s door. You have my word, you will know everything.”