It was Steele. That one word cut through the haze and brought her back to reality.
She turned, expecting censure. Expecting him to tell her to stand down. What she saw were her teammates with rage in their eyes.
Steele was at the forefront, his eyes brimming with understanding.
“It’s your call,” he said quietly. “Resnick wants him alive, but fuck Resnick. Whatever you decide, we’re behind you one hundred percent.”
It was then that Brumley broke down, weeping like a distraught child. Maybe he saw the promise of death in P.J.’s eyes. And after hearing her team leader all but sanction his death, he started babbling faster than P.J. could keep up.
“I’ll give you whatever you want. Money. I have money. Information.”
He latched onto that greedily. “I have names and contacts. I have records of every deal I’ve ever made. You could take out a lot of very important people who deal in child trafficking. I’m just the middle man. I’m nothing.”
P.J.’s lips curled into a snarl. “Yeah, you’d probably love to be turned over to Resnick. You’d cut some cushy deal, sing like a bird and then be free in no time. I don’t trust you, Brumley. You’d say anything to save your own ass.”
Dolphin and Renshaw ran to where Cole was still sitting, tied to the chair. They quickly untied him and started applying a pressure dressing to the wound.
Steele and Baker stood by the door, guns still drawn, their gazes never leaving P.J.
“I can prove it,” Brumley gabbled. “In my safe. There in the wall. I’ll give you the combination. You can see. I have records of everything. Recorded conversations. Details of deals. When and where. It’s all there, I swear it!”
“Baker, check it out,” P.J. ordered.
Baker removed the painting and then waited as Brumley stuttered out the combination. A moment later, Baker started pulling out stacks of currency and with it a ledger and several memory chips.
Baker flipped through the ledger and let out a low whistle.
“Apparently our asshole here does business with some very important people. Resnick would come in his pants to get his hands on this.”
“See!” Brumley panted. “I told you!”
P.J. looked at him in disgust and then pressed the blade into his throat until a line of blood appeared.
“Wait! You said you wouldn’t kill me!” Brumley said in panic.
She slashed deep, cutting his windpipe, air escaping in a long hiss.
“Sue me.”
CHAPTER 37
P.J. let the knife fall from her hand, clattering to the floor. Numbness had crept in along with the realization that she’d done it. Her revenge was complete.
Her rapists were dead. Her mission was done.
A shiver took over, and she realized that she was still astride Brumley, naked and cold, shaking like a leaf.
And then her team was there, surrounding her.
Mortification gripped her and she clutched her arms to her in an attempt to cover her body.
Steele wrapped a blanket around her shivering form and pulled her up and away from the blood and the sight of Brumley’s dead body.
“Are you hurt?” Steele demanded, his hands on her shoulders, holding the blanket in place.
It seemed a senseless question when she was bleeding all over and her face must look like a train wreck.
“Cole,” she croaked out. “How is Cole?”
She broke away, uncaring of anything but Cole. She rushed to where he still sat on the chair he’d damn near torn apart in his desperation to get to her. There were rope burns at his wrists and a bulky pressure dressing on his shoulder. But he was alive.
As soon as she pushed her way past Dolphin and Renshaw, Cole staggered to his feet and met her halfway.
Ignoring his injuries, ignoring hers, he crushed her to him, holding on as if he’d never let go.
“My God, you scared me, P.J.,” he whispered against her ear. “Don’t ever do that to me again. Swear to me you’ll never do that again. I almost lost you. I can’t lose you again. Never again.”
She clung fiercely to him, fearing what would happen if she let go. She could literally feel the threads holding her in place loosening and starting to fray. She didn’t know how much longer she’d be able to keep it together.
“Baker, get everything out of that safe,” Steele ordered. “We need to clear out of here double time. I don’t want any sign that we were here.”
Renshaw snorted. “I think the dead bodies will give it away.”
Steele pinned him with a glare. “They may speculate as to who and what, but I don’t want them to have irrefutable proof. I want everyone out and this place clean on the double.”
“Yes sir,” Baker said.