Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
The color drained from Alyssa’s face. She stared at the phone like it was something that had just bitten her, something she didn’t recognize.
“He hung up on me,” she said, voice full of shock.
Mack set the pencil down and took the phone. “You were calling him on his bullshit. He never liked that.” He took her phone and crushed it under his boot.
“Hey,” she cried.
“I can’t have him tracing this. I should’ve destroyed it last night.”
She threw her hands up in the air. “You owe me a phone.”
“Your life is more important.”
She made an irritated noise but relented and began pacing. Frustration was evident in every step. “He didn’t call to check on me. He called to warn me off. To tell me to stay quiet. To protect himself.”
What could he say? “He did.”
She repeated Blake’s unfinished sentence, testing the words. “‘Don’t make me choose between you and…’ Between me and what, Mack? The cartel? His life? His freedom? What was he going to say?”
“All of the above.” Mack crossed his arms. “He’s in deep with them if he was at the meeting. My guess is, he’s the one who set it up. If you testify, if you confirm he was in that meeting, you’re putting him in the crosshairs.”
“So he wants me to hide. Stay quiet.” She laughed, but there was no humor in it. “Protect him.”
He could see her chewing it over in her mind. He could guess what arguments she was having with herself.
He could lie to save her feelings, but he’d always been honest with her. He wasn’t going to skirt the truth now. “That’s what he’s counting on, because that’s what you’ve always done, isn’t it?”
She pierced him with a look, but he saw something shift behind her eyes. Some fundamental understanding rearranging itself. “You still want me to believe you over him. That he lied about that mission. About what happened to David Morrison.”
Mack said nothing. He’d defended himself over and over to her.
Showed her the evidence. Showed her father, too— Colonel Bennett, a retired Marine who’d chosen to believe his son over the man engaged to his daughter.
The Colonel had friends in high places and his influence had led to Mack’s evidence being discredited.
To Morrison’s death being pinned on him, not Blake.
More silence, but he could see Alyssa’s mind still working. She touched her scar. “He always says he wants to protect me, but he doesn’t want to protect me,” she said quietly. “He wants me to protect him. That’s how it’s always been. You’re right—that’s what I’ve always done.”
There was a story behind that scar. One Mack had asked about, and Alyssa had always dodged. “You don’t have to anymore, Lyssa.”
She stood, processing, and Mack could see it happening in real time—the last thread of Blake-loyalty fraying.
Snapping.
It was painful to watch. Even knowing Blake deserved it, even knowing she needed to see it, watching her lose her brother was hard. And it came on the heels of losing her best friend.
Mack had lost people—most notably her. Alyssa was the only woman he’d ever loved. He knew what it felt like when someone you’d built your understanding of the world around turned out to be someone else entirely.
“I’m sorry,” he said, and meant it.
She looked up. “For what?”
“That he couldn’t be who you needed him to be.”
Her expression cracked. A wall coming down that had been holding her together and holding her separate at the same time.
“You chose me,” she said, walking up to him. She lifted her chin to stare him in the eye. “Last night at the party, you chose to help me even though you were undercover. You challenged that guy with tatts and saved me.”
“I’ve always chosen you.” The words came out before he could stop them. Simple. True. Too raw for the situation they were in, but damn it, he was saying them anyway. “That was never the question.”
The space between them collapsed. He could see the exact color of her eyes, could count the freckles across her nose.
“I’m sorry,” she said, “for two years ago. For not believing you. For choosing him. If what you say is true…”
He saw her throat work. The realization that Blake had not only cost Mack his career in the Marines but had torn him and Alyssa apart was too much for her to take in on top of everything else.
He took a step back because if he didn’t, if she kept talking, if she said everything he’d wanted to hear for two years while she was standing this close and looking at him like that, he wouldn’t be able to think. Wouldn’t be able to do his job. “We need to talk about it, Lyssa, but not now.”
Her eyes dimmed at his stepping away. Then her face set in resolve, and she followed him, invading his personal space. Her finger poked him in the chest. “Fine, but we will talk about it when this is over.”
If he leaned down, if she rose up, if either of them closed that gap—
The sat phone rang.
They both stepped back, the moment broken.
Mack swallowed before he grabbed the phone. Blew out a breath. “Yes?”
“I need her today,” Claire said without any preamble. “The roads to my office here are open. Not totally clear, but traffic is moving. I know it’s not what you want, but it’s what we need. Get here as soon as you can.”
“I’ll call you back.” He ended the call before she could respond.
Alyssa frowned. “What is it?”
“The FBI wants you to come to their Missoula office now,” he said. “I can take you, or we can wait until the safe house is ready, which won’t be until tomorrow night. It’s your call.”
She raised a brow. “You’re letting me decide?”
“It’s your life.”
She studied his face, his rigid posture. “You think I should wait.”
Every instinct he had said so. “I can control the security here, where the only variables are ones I’ve already accounted for.
Moving you means exposure, risk, and a hundred things that could go wrong.
” His worst nightmare. “The safe house is the better option,” he said honestly, “but the timing is worse since it won’t be ready for another day. ”
She was quiet for a moment, weighing options. “But you can keep me safe, either way.”
It wasn’t a question. There was something in her eyes—trust, maybe. The same trust she’d had in him once that Blake had taken away. “Yes.”
“Then I’m going. Today.” She straightened and nodded, determination evident. “Blake told me to stay out of it. To protect him.” She picked up the charcoal and her sketchbook. “So I’m going to do the opposite. I’m going to the FBI, and I’m giving them everything.”
He should feel relieved. She was cooperating, making his job easier. Instead, what he felt was dread, low and insistent, the certainty that walking out of this cabin was walking into something he wouldn’t be able to control. “You’re sure?”
“Will you be there? At this meeting?”
“If you want me there.”
“Then I’m sure.”
“Lyssa…”
“What?”
“You do realize that both of us will have to confirm that Blake was there and that he called you and told you to stay out of this.”
She clutched the sketchbook and hesitated for only a second. “I know. We’re going in there, and we’re both telling the truth. Deal?”
God, she was beautiful. “Deal.” He called Claire. “We’re coming in. But not the field office. Somewhere more secure, limited personnel, and I don’t leave her side.”
“SPS headquarters?” Claire asked.
The compound was the safest place in Montana. “If we can get there, yes. That’s my preference.”
“I just spoke with Garrett. The main road is still impassable. We can give it two hours, but if it’s not accessible by then, you have to come to the field office, understand?”
“Copy.” He ended the call and looked at Alyssa. “We leave in two hours.”
She sat at the table, opened the book, and started drawing…
Blake.
She’s going to put Blake away. It’s going to destroy her, and she’s going to do it anyway.
Mack had been in love with her since he’d met her after his first tour. He’d been certain of their future. He’d lost it because of Blake and spent two years trying to get over it.
Standing here watching her prepare to sacrifice her brother to do the right thing, he was certain of something else.
He’d never stopped loving her.
His pulse quickened. His heart squeezed. The old feelings rushed over him. Controlling his breathing so she wouldn’t notice, he marched into the living room and repacked his go-bag.
Weapons, ammunition, extra magazines, a medical kit, the sat phone charged and ready. His regular phone stayed off. The action calmed him. Setting things in order always did.
He checked the perimeter one more time through the windows, scanning for any sign they’d been compromised. Nothing. The snow was undisturbed.
He added snacks and bottles of water to his go-bag. Then he put in his earbuds and listened to the recording of Blake and Alyssa, transcribing it for Claire.
Alyssa had nothing to pack. Her dress was ruined, her heels worthless in this weather and terrain.
After he’d done all that, he was still antsy. Outside, he cleared the SUV and the drive of snow. He checked the tool bag Garrett kept in each SPS vehicle—you never knew what to expect in Montana or if you might break down—and the spare. The Marines had taught Mack to be prepared.
The main road to the SPS compound was not accessible two hours later. When Claire's call came, Mack had to accept that he couldn’t control everything in life.
Claire provided the meeting location, and it was no high-end security compound like SPS, but it was solid.
Alyssa placed her sketchbook and medication in her bag, and Mack gave her several pairs of thick, wool socks to pull on and a pair of his boots. They were still too big for her, but better than the strappy heels.
He handed her his spare jacket, and she put it on without comment. It hung past her hips. She looked small—and his. “Ready?” he asked, his voice coming out rough.
She held her bag close and glanced around the cabin. To the table where she’d broken down. The bedroom where she’d slept in his bed. The kitchen where they’d had breakfast, and Blake had called, and her world had changed.
“No,” she said. “But let’s go anyway.”
He opened the door. The cold air hit hard, sharp and clean. The sun was bright on the new snow, turning everything white and pristine, like the world had been reset overnight.
Behind them, the cabin sat quiet. The place that had kept them safe, isolated from everything, and together in a way they hadn’t been in two years seemed bigger to him.
Ahead was Missoula, the FBI, the cartel, half a million dollars on Alyssa’s head, and every reason this was going to get complicated.
“Stay close to me at all times,” Mack said.
She met his eyes. “Where else would I go?”