Page 92 of Marked for Obsession

Just like in the movies, time seemed to become non-existent, and everything appeared to happen in super slow motion. It was crazy how, despite the all-consuming fear threatening to take over, she was still fully aware of every single thing that happened next.

Every breath. Every movement. Every thought.

Every decision.

The bathroom door burst open, its wooden frame splintering into a hundred pieces from the forceful blow. A man dressed in head-to-toe black stood before her. Through the holes in the woven ski mask, Poppy realized she could make out the color of his eyes.

Green.

It was such a strange thing to observe during a time when her life was literally on the line. But the eyes were what Poppy focused on the most because, in her experience, they were always the first to give away a person’s intent.

And this man? His intention was really fucking clear.

“You’re a hard bitch to kill.” The man started to raise his gun in her direction.

But Poppy was already pulling the trigger of the gun inherhand.

She hadn’t meant to shoot him twice, but the unexpected recoil of Jax’s pistol caused her to flinch after that first round had been dispelled. Either way, it worked because the man who’d had every intention of killing her was now lying on his back, his blood slowly filling the grouted lines separating the expensive tile.

“Poppy!”

On reflex, she raised the gun again, her finger sliding from the trigger at the last second when Jax’s imposing form filled her vision.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” He raised both hands—and both guns—in the air to show he wasn’t a threat. Standing in his bedroom just a few feet from the bathroom’s mangled door, he rushed to tell her, “It’s me, Poppy. It’s just me.”

“Jax?” She lowered the gun to her side, her shoulders falling as she blew out a heavy breath. “Are you okay?”

“I’m good.” He looked at the man she’d shot and back up to her. “You?”

“I’m okay.” She nodded. “Is it over?”

The smile he gave her melted her heart. Tears threatened to fall, but she somehow managed to hold them back.

There’d be plenty of time to decompress later. Right now, there was something she needed to say. Something very important that the man staring back at her needed to know.

“Jax, I lo—”

A deafening pop cut her declaration short. Poppy was only half-aware of something shattering behind her because she was too focused on Jax…

And the fact that he’d just been shot.

“No!”

Jax’s body jerked from the bullet’s impact, his knees crumbling beneath him a fraction of a second later. Poppy watched with utter horror as he fell face-first onto the carpet below.

Get up. Come on, Jax. Please get up!

He didn’t get up. He didn’t so much as move. But the man standing behind him with the gun…

The bastard smiled at her from behind his mask. It was a cocky, arrogant, evil smile that turned her veins to ice.

Stalking toward her with his weapon by his side, he was so busy trying to dramatically build up the moment before her death he didn’t realize she was already plotting his.

Poppy didn’t think about what she did next. She simply lifted the gun and pulled the trigger.

A look of shock filled the unsuspecting killer’s eyes as his free hand flew to the fresh wound at the side of his neck. She’d been aiming for his chest, but the bright red blood spurting out from between the man’s gloved fingers was proof that her shot had done the trick.

The man fell where he stood, landing a few feet from Jax’s still form.

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