“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.