Shades of Gray (KGI #6)(28)

“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.”

CHAPTER 14

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 motherf*ckers 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 f**k 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.”