Shades of Grey(27)

Cole.

She’d know him anywhere. Could smell him.

She buried her face in his chest as shame crashed over her.

“P.J., P.J., sweetheart. Oh my God, baby. Oh my God.”

It seemed to be all he could say as he rocked her back and forth, his heart beating like a drum against her broken body.

“I’m so sorry,” he said brokenly. “I’m so damn sorry.”

Pain screamed through her system and she let out a whimper she could no longer call back. Now that she was safe, her barriers were down. The adrenaline rush was gone. She had nothing, no buffers to what had happened. She’d been raped by two men and sliced open like some piece of meat.

Where was there for her to go? To hide? They would all see her. Her shame. And know that she hadn’t been able to prevent what had happened.

She wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

“I’ve got you,” Cole whispered, his voice choked. It sounded like he had tears, but she was nearly unconscious now.

“Blood. All over you,” she managed to whisper.

“I don’t give a fuck,” he said fiercely. “I’m getting you the hell out of here. You need medical attention.”

She shook her head, trying to grasp his shirt to gain his attention. But there was something wrong with one of her hands, and in the other she still gripped the knife she’d plunged into Nelson’s back.

Cole gently took hold of her hand and pried the knife away, closing it with a click.

“No!” she protested.

She struggled, trying to reach for the knife again. She wanted it, damn it.

Cole pressed the closed knife into her palm in an effort to soothe her and she gripped it until it left indentations in her skin.

She had to remain conscious. This was too important. It could mean her life. It could mean the lives of those baby girls. She would do anything to spare them what she’d endured, and they’d fair much worse. They didn’t have her team. They had no one. She had to save them or her very soul had been sacrificed for nothing.

“P.J. Ah hell, P.J. Talk to us. Don’t go out. Not yet. Come on.”

It was Dolphin. He’d hunkered down next to Cole. And Baker. She could hear him and Renshaw arguing over who stayed and who went to help Steele and Donovan go after the bastard who did this to her.

She smiled faintly, so in shock that it seemed appropriate to smile even amid all the blood and horror of what had happened.

But then she refocused and remembered the objective. She reached for Cole’s shirt, shocked at how weak she was. Her fingers wouldn’t curl and she ended up flailing uselessly at his neck.

He captured her hand and held it to his lips. He quivered beneath her touch and she realized how hard he was shaking. He was losing it. Right here in front of everyone.

“The girls,” she said, rousing every ounce of her flagging strength. “He mentioned them. Said the pickup was tomorrow night.”

“I know, baby. We heard. We heard every goddamn thing,” he said in a tortured voice.

It was a reminder, a slap to her face. Yeah, she knew they’d heard, but his words just brought home how public her humiliation had been.

“Have to save them.”

Tears of pain crowded her vision, and she hated that she couldn’t be stronger. She hated that these sons of bitches had managed to subdue her and force her to submit to their depravities.

She was fading fast, and she had to make sure those girls would be taken care of. If she didn’t, she’d see their faces right alongside the faces of her rapists every night in her dreams.

“Promise you’ll save them,” she whispered. “Promise me. No matter what happens to me. You can’t let this happen to them. They’re just babies. So scared.”

She choked off before she said, “like I was.” But she knew they’d heard the unspoken words. Could hear them in her tone.

A loud clatter from the direction where Donovan and Steele had run made her teammates draw their weapons and surround her. Cole’s grip tightened on her and then Donovan was there, pressing in close.

“Talk to me, P.J.,” Donovan said in a low voice. “How are you, sweetheart?”

“C-cold.” She turned her face upward, her head so heavy she could barely manage the feat.

He all but pushed Cole out of the way and took P.J. into his own arms, lowering her to the floor.

“Get me something to wrap around her,” he ordered.

“What about the cuts?” Cole asked hoarsely.

P.J. struggled not to succumb to the blackness surrounding her. “Where’s Nelson? Did you get the bastard?”

She’d never forget the look on Donovan’s face as long as she lived. It was full of regret, rage and guilt.