Page 1 of His Black Onyx

Chapter 1

Malia

I’m in agony.

This headache is the worst I’ve ever had. The pain is throbbing through my skull and feels like a small but vicious hammer, slowly splitting my head into parts.

The torment of it weighs me down, forcing me to keep my eyes shut after I wake up from a slumber that was induced by force, leaving me confused.

What happened?

And where am I?

Just a moment ago, I was still in my hotel room. I was happy—and drunk. I never drink, but it was a special night—my best friend's wedding, and a crazy one at that. They had decided to elope, calling me on short notice to come with them as their only witness.

We were having so much fun. We partied. A lot. Too much. My head was spinning when they guided me up to my room. My friend had to support me as I tripped and stumbled through the casino.

They helped me to my room, and put me to bed.

And then they left.

Even with my eyes closed I can tell that I’m no longer in that hotel room. The smell is different, the mattress I’m lying on feels different—and the sounds coming from outside the room are different.

An abrupt noise like a heavy door slamming shut reverberates in the distance, seemingly coming from far away, like it is being muffled by walls or doors. I'm inside a closed room and lying on a saggy mattress with sheets that smell like citrus, but not in a good way. The smell is pungent and barely covers the moldy stench.

And there's one other thing that really unnerves me.

My hands are tied. And so are my ankles.

I'm lying on my back and my hands are tied together at the front, resting on my belly. I try to calm my breathing as the panic settles in.

My ankles are not tied together, though, but tied to something instead. Is it the bed frame? Am I even on a bed? The only way I can know for sure is if I open my eyes.

But I'm too scared.

I'm too scared to make all of this real. Once I open my eyes, I can no longer pretend that this is just a bad dream, or that it’s my imagination after drunkenly passing out in my hotel room back in Atlantic City.

That’s where I’m supposed to be. That’s where I was before everything went black.

My best friend, Liliane and her new husband Jayson had left the room. I can still see the concerned expression on her face as she cast me one last look.

"I'm fine," I slurred, adding a weak but honest smile. I was tired, oh so tired. All I wanted to do was to sleep and stop the room from spinning.

So that's what I did. I passed out just moments after the door closed behind them, and I tumbled into a dreamless sleep.

But something happened after that.

There was a noise coming from outside. A knocking that started out gentle at first, but it kept growing louder and more aggressive the longer I didn't react to it. The door was shaking on its hinges, causing a ruckus that was impossible to ignore, even in my pathetic state.

I dragged myself toward the door, stumbling and silently cursing my best friend. I thought it must be Liliane who was pounding on the door with such vicious force, returning to check on me.

I was so sure it was her.

But it wasn't.

Oh, my God, I think I’m panicking.

My heart is racing, thumping against my rib cage with such ferocity that it's almost painful. I shift my tied hands to my chest, pressing them against my left boob as if to keep my heart from escaping.

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