Chapter 1 #2
Over a hundred guests filled the ballroom. Servers passed by with trays of champagne. The string quartet played an upbeat tune. Laughter and warm light gave the illusion of safety.
“Mack, what is going on?” Alyssa said. “What are you doing here? Who are those men back there, and why was Blake acting so weird?”
Mack pulled his earpiece from his pocket and put it back in. Claire was practically screaming.
“—your position immediately! Hawk, respond! Hawk!”
Mack replied calmly. “A civilian is compromised. I’m extracting her.”
“Negative,” Claire said, voice still strained. “Stay in position.”
“Too late. She’s burned. They’ll kill her.” He kept his expression neutral, nodding at a passing couple like nothing was wrong.
“They’ll what?” Alyssa said two octaves too high.
“Who is she?” Claire wanted to know.
Mack looked at Alyssa. Her face was pale, but composed. Detail-oriented as always—her gaze raked over him, taking him in and trying to understand. “It’s complicated,” he said into the comm.
He pulled his phone out and texted Grizzly. Exfil now. Front entrance. Hot.
Response came immediately. Two min.
Mack grabbed her arm and hauled her out the ballroom doors. “Get your coat.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you.”
Mack rubbed a hand over his face. “I’ll explain later, but we need to leave right fucking now, Alyssa. You just walked in on cartel negotiations, and regardless of whether Blake called off their dog, it won’t be long before those men come after you.”
“Cartel negotiations,” she echoed, her voice full of disbelief.“There’s no way Rob would allow cartel leaders in his—”
Rob Thorne materialized near the coat check, his weathered face creasing with concern. “Leaving already? Alyssa, are you alright, sweetheart?”
“She’s not feeling well.” Mack grabbed her coat from the attendant. He draped it over her shoulders. “I need to get her home.”
“Of course, of course.” Rob patted Alyssa’s arm. “Feel better. Thank you for coming tonight. The guests love their portraits. We’ll catch up soon.”
She managed a weak smile, and Mack guided her toward the entrance. A few feet, and she jerked her arm away. “I don’t know what the hell is going on, but you don’t get to march me outside and send me home.”
“Are you not listening to me?” It was everything he could do not to throw her over his shoulder and haul her out the door. “I’m trying to save your life.”
Through the glass doors, snow fell in sheets. The circular drive was already covered, maybe three inches already. How long had he been inside? Two hours? The weather had turned fast.
Headlights cut through the white curtain as the SPS SUV pulled up.
Alyssa stopped at the top of the steps, turning to him. “That’s not possible. Let me go talk to Rob. I want to hear it from him.”
Infuriating woman, demanding explanations at the worst possible moment. So like her.
Behind them, the enforcer appeared, spotted them through the glass, and reached for his phone.
“Not now.” Mack took her hand—her fingers were ice-cold—and pulled her down the steps. The cold hit like a fist, wind driving snow into their faces. She slipped—stupid high heels were all wrong for this weather—and he caught her.
Grizzly opened the rear door, thinking they’d both sit back there. Mack lifted Alyssa and took her to the passenger side. “What are you doing?” she screeched.
Shoving her into the seat, he cut off her protests by slamming the door and returned to the driver’s side.
“I need you to go back in,” he said to Grizzly as he slid into the driver’s seat. “Take my position. Keep an eye on Thorne, and the FBI op isn’t done.”
Grizzly’s eyes widened. “You’re taking the civilian home? In this storm? You sure that’s wise?”
“Not up for debate.” Mack tossed him the venue security credentials from his pocket. “Tell Wolf I had to extract a compromised civilian. He’ll understand.”
“Copy that.” Grizzly stepped back, clearly thinking this was a terrible idea, but knowing better than to argue. “Be safe out there.”
Mack shifted into drive and pulled away from the mansion, checking his mirrors. Grizzly ducked inside right before the enforcer barreled out, phone to his ear, watching them disappear into the snow.
“Put your seatbelt on,” Mack ordered.
Alyssa fumbled with it, her hands shaking. The buckle’s click sounded too loud in the confined space. “I can’t believe…”
Her voice trailed off. She was right there—no buffer between them. Just her and him and their breakup.
“Rewind,” she said, facing him. That was Alyssa—always processing, always trying to understand before reacting. “Cartels at Rob’s party? Blake in that room where they were negotiating? You…” She gestured at him. “None of this makes sense.
Mack focused on the road. The long driveway was barely visible, the tire tracks already filling with fresh snow. “You walked into a meeting you shouldn’t have.”
“Those men—”
“Are dangerous.” He turned onto the main road, or what he hoped was the main road. Visibility was dropping fast. “They’re drug traffickers.”
“I don’t believe it. Rob would never—”
“Mr. Thorne most likely doesn’t know. Your brother does.”
“What? No.” She said it with a note of incredulousness. “You must be mistaken. Blake works for Rob.”
Because it was easier to believe Blake was the golden boy and could do no wrong.
“I know that. Mr. Thorne’s assistant contracted my employer to help with guest security.”
“And you knew those men were there?”
“Yes.”Always with the questions. “There was an undercover op going on that you nearly blew.”
The SUV’s radio crackled. “All units, I-90 eastbound closed at mile marker 96. Major multi-vehicle accident. Whiteout conditions. Estimated closure: four to six hours.”
Mack’s hands tightened on the wheel. The interstate was the direct route to the Shadow Point compound.
His phone buzzed. A weather alert popped up on the built-in dash screen. Blizzard warning extended through tomorrow morning.
The GPS chimed helpfully. “Rerouting... calculating alternative route...”
He could feel her gaze on the side of his face. “Where are you taking me?” she demanded.
“SPS compound. You’ll be safe there.”
“The what?”
“Shadow Point Security. It’s who I work for.”
“And you’re doing sting operations in wealthy families’ estates on drug traffickers? Oh, this is one for the books. Have you lost your mind?”
If he looked at her now, if he saw those green eyes he’d once known better than his own reflection, he might lose his cool.
But up ahead, he saw flashing lights. “Shit,” he said under his breath.
She sat forward. “Looks like a pile up. The police are diverting traffic.”
“If the interstate is closed, the compound’s unreachable.” He slowed, followed the snake of cars and trucks onto a state road.
“I can’t believe this,” Alyssa said, shaking her head. She pulled out her phone. “I’m calling Blake and getting an explanation.”
He shot out a hand, stopping her before she could dial. “He won’t answer, trust me. Not until the negotiations are over, and then, he’s going to be walking a fine line between turning you over to the cartel and figuring out how to keep you safe.”
“You’re talking about my brother!”
He slammed a hand on the steering wheel, wishing he could pass all the slow vehicles. “Yes, that’s the one. Your brother, who’s apparently working for cartels these days.”
The headlights flashed off a sign a few feet ahead. Tremble Back Pop. 214 with an arrow pointing to the right.
And there it was—the answer to his problem. One of them, at least. What were the odds he’d end up within spitting distance of his family’s cabin?
“I don’t believe you.” She shook her head. “I don’t believe any of this. This must be a mistake.”
“I want you alive, Lyss.” The nickname slipped out again. He’d used it so naturally once, back when she was his, back before everything shattered. “Those men saw your face, and you weren’t supposed to see theirs. No one but those in the meeting were to know they were there.”
“Why did you say I was your girlfriend?” She pushed herself against the door as if trying to put as much distance between them as possible. “Why did you...” Her hand rose to her temple, where he’d kissed her. “I want to go home." Her voice was small, scared. "I need to process this. I can't—"
"I'm working with the FBI. Your brother's in the middle of it. He's not who you think he is."
She just stared at him, continuing to press herself against the door.
He ignored her, taking the next turn, grateful to leave the pack of slow-moving vehicles behind, even though the road toward Tremble Back already had plenty of snow on it.
Her voice was low, scared. “Why are you doing this?”
Because it’s the only way to save you. Because even after two years, even after you broke my heart, I would still burn the whole world down to keep you safe. Because you’re still Lyss to me, even if I have no right to call you that anymore.
He said none of those things. “Because it was the only way to get you out of there alive.” His voice came out rough. “They would have taken you. Questioned you. Hurt you.”
Killed you, his mind supplied, even though he didn’t say it. But she heard it anyway—he saw her face pale in his peripheral vision.
Her voice was barely audible, the question not directed at him. “What was he doing in that room?”
Mack’s jaw worked. The windshield wipers slapped at the snow, barely keeping up. High beams reflected off a wall of white, making visibility even worse. He eased off the accelerator.
“He must be working for one of them.”
“Working for…a cartel?”
She was in shock. That’s why she kept circling the same questions. “Yes.”
A sharp intake of breath. Then nothing. Just the sound of the storm and the heater and the engine laboring through deepening snow.
When she spoke again, her voice was hollow. “Did you know I was going to be there tonight? Did you know I moved here?”
Finally, he glanced at her. Her eyes searched his face for something. Truth, maybe. Or proof that this was all a terrible nightmare she’d wake up from. “No. You told me to leave you alone two years ago, and I did.”
Her expression shuttered. Right. Because she’d been the one to end it. The one to walk away. She had no right to look hurt by his words.
“But you’re in danger now.” He turned back to the road, gripping the wheel harder. “And whether you like it or not, I’m all you’ve got.”
The road climbed into the mountains, visibility dropping to almost nothing. Wind buffeted the SUV and Mack fought to keep them steady. His phone buzzed again—weather alerts, GPS trying to reroute, messages he couldn’t spare his attention for.
Beside him, Alyssa fell silent. He could feel more questions building in her, the same way he used to feel storms coming.
But every answer would lead to more questions, and some of those questions he couldn’t answer without breaking about five different security clearances and putting her in even more danger.
“Mack.” Her voice was softer now. Tired. “Where are we going?”
“To a cabin,” he said. “It’s as secure as the SPS compound, but it’s off the grid. They won’t find you there.”
“What happens when we get to this cabin?”
Good question.
Two years of staying away. Two years of building walls to keep the hurt behind.
And now he was driving into the mountains with her, about to be trapped in close quarters for God knew how long.
Blake knew they’d left together. The cartels knew her face.
And he’d just put himself between Alyssa and all of it.
Like he hadn’t learned his lesson the first time.
He didn’t answer.
The next few minutes were a war against the blizzard. The cabin appeared through the snow like a ghost—small, solid, buried in drifts. Mack pulled the SUV as close as he could and killed the engine.
He looked at her one more time before he got out. She was watching him with those eyes that still haunted his dreams, still broke his heart.
"Wait here,” he said, and trudged through the howling wind to her side. When he opened her door, the storm tried to rip it from his hands. He reached for her. "I've got you."
He scooped her up out of the passenger seat, and she buried her head in his chest as the blizzard raged at them.
The walk to the front door took three times as long as usual. Once he finally got her inside, he set her on her feet, closed the door, and set the security system.
She shook snow off herself. “Whose cabin is this?”
He took her coat and hung it up, then brushed snow from his own hair. “Welcome to my home,” he said.
He'd never thought she'd be here. Never wanted her here. Except that was a lie, wasn't it?
He headed to the kitchen before she could see his face. “Make yourself at home.”