Page 23 of Marked for Obsession

A few feet away, Poppy was lying on the floor, belly-side down. Her gray t-shirt that looked to be three sizes too big had ridden up over her hips, exposing her white cotton panties, and fresh blood covered the bottom of her feet.

Sitting on her back was a man dressed in all black, including a fucking ski mask. One of the bastard’s hands was filled with her hair while the son of a bitch had her head pulled back toward him. In the man’s other hand was a gun—a fuckinggun—and it was pressed against the side of Poppy’s skull.

But it was the almost peaceful expression on her beautiful face that turned Jax’s blood to ice.

He’d seen that same look time and again during his time in the Navy. It was a look of acceptance. Like Poppy knew she was about to die.

Like hell!

The man holding her down swung his wide-eyed gaze in Jax’s direction. He moved the gun from Poppy’s head and started to bring it around. With a trained eye, Jax could see the man’s finger begin to tighten against the trigger, his intention more than a little clear.

That’s right, asshole. Focus on me.

Because Jax already had his own weapon trained on the bastard. And his own finger was already squeezing his trigger.

A loud pop filled the tense air. The masked man’s head jerked back as Jax’s bullet passed through his brain. Almost simultaneously, a second bullet—this one from Ivan’s gun—pierced the intruder’s chest. The projectile passed straight through the attacker’s heart.

We always did make a good team.

The assailant’s lifeless fingers grew lax, releasing their grip on Poppy’s hair. Her upper body fell forward as her would-be killer’s limp body slid awkwardly to the side.

The threat to Poppy had been neutralized within seconds of Jax kicking in that damn door. Her full name felt as natural as breathing as it fell from Jax’s lips.

“Penelope!”

He ran to her. Shoving his pistol back into his waistband, he immediately pushed the dead man the rest of the way off her. Behind him, Ivan bent down and secured the attacker’s fallen weapon.

Momentarily forgetting about the blood, Jax reached down and gently helped Poppy from the floor.

“Shit, your feet.” He glanced down. “Are you okay to stand?”

“J-Jax?” Shock and confusion poured over her. “Wha…what are you—”

“Jesus.” Jax wrapped his fingers gently around her shoulders. His sweeping gaze immediately began assessing her for other injuries. “Where else are you hurt?”

Poppy’s tear-filled eyes were as big as saucers, her entire body trembling beneath his touch. “Thank you!” She threw herself into his arms. “I-I thought…I thought h-he was going to—”

“I know.” He held her close. With one hand cupping the back of her head and the other wrapped around her waist, he did his best to calm her. “You’re safe now. I’m here, and you’re safe.”

“But h-he—”

“Can’t hurt you or anyone else ever again.”

A bullet to the head and one to the heart had made sure of that.

At his words, Poppy pulled away enough to look down at the man currently bleeding all over her wooden floor. A tiny cry filled the back of her throat, and she put a hand to her mouth as she continued to stare.

“Don’t.” Jax attempted to turn her away. “Don’t look at him. Trust me, you don’t need to see that shit.”

He should know. He had more than enough haunting images in his own head.

“H-he broke into my home.” Poppy’s glossy eyes met his, her voice barely a whisper. “He was going to kill me.”

“But he didn’t.”Thank fuck.

Jax slid his hand from her hair. In a reflexive move, he started to frame her cheek with his palm but froze mid-motion when he got his first real look at her face since bursting through her door.

Sonofa—

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