Page 100 of Marked for Obsession

He was going to treasure every single one of them from here on out. Because he had Poppy by his side.

And with her, knowing she’d be forever in his life, he finally felt complete.

* * *

“What’s she doing here?”Grady Thorne scowled. His eyes followed the subject of his question as she dipped her upper body beneath the yellow police tape and walked his way.

Declan kept his eyes glued on the small restaurant across the lot. “Sarge put in the call.”

“Why the hell would he do that? And why would the FBIallowthat?”

His partner shrugged. “Probably because our HT refuses to talk to anyoneexcepther.”

Their HT—or hostage taker—being the man currently holding a gun on a group of innocent people who were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time.

“Hey, guys.” Dr. Isobel Garcia greeted them. A puff of white led her words as she spoke into the frigid air. “What have we got?”

“You show up to an active hostage situation without a clue as to why you’re here?” Grady barely managed to avoid a roll of his eyes. He wanted to strangle his boss for inserting the pretty shrink into the middle of such a volatile situation.

“Sergeant Riedell informed me that a young man, approximately thirty years of age, had taken a restaurant full of people hostage and was holding them at gunpoint.”

Could’ve found that out on the freaking news.

Continuing, Dr. Garcia added, “Riedell also said the hostage taker was requesting to talk to me and me alone.” Her hazel eyes found Grady’s. “That’s really all I needed to know.”

She’d come here, just like that. With no other intel and apparently little regard for her own safety.

“So he called you down here expecting you to do what, exactly?” Grady challenged.

The gorgeous brunette seemed unaffected by his foul mood, frustrating him even more. “I would assume he’d like for me to talk to the HT. But that’s just a guess.”

Declan snickered beside him, his hand strategically rubbing across his growing smirk.

Asshole.

“Dr. Garcia!”

All three turned to see Sergeant Riedell—the head of Denver’s Major Crimes Unit—quickly approaching.

The man’s silver hair shimmered in the bright winter sun, his blue eyes hidden behind a set of reflective Aviators.

“Where do you want me?” Isobel asked the man in charge.

Technically, the man calling the shots was FBI Special Agent Howard Nolan. According to Declan, Nolan had spent the past three years heading up Denver’s Federal Hostage Rescue Team. But since Sergeant Riedell was also a former member of the elite HRT—and age-old friends with Agent Nolan—the two units were apparently working this one together.

Lucky us.

“First things first.” Riedell handed her a protective vest matching the one he and the others had on. “Get this on, and then I’ll take you to the phone.”

Even while Isobel was sliding the bullet resistant garment over her head, Grady continued letting his opinion of her presence here known.

“Boss, I don’t think this is a good idea.”

His sergeant turned to face him. “No? Why is that?”

“She’s not trained for this.”

“Actually”—Isobel secured the thick Velcro straps across her left side—“Idohave HRT experience. I wrote my thesis on law enforcement’s approach to hostage takers. I focused on how departments around the country need more in-depth training on the psychological aspect of the situation, rather than jumping to take aim and pull the trigger. But more importantly, that young man in there is a hairsbreadth away from making a decision that would most likely be catastrophic for the people he’s holding captive, as well as for himself.”

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