Page 51 of His Black Onyx

"You neglected to follow my order-"

"Don't get in a lather about this," George interrupts me, raising his hand in an appeasing manner. "You know how I hate secrets, Nate. Daveed did the right thing in letting me in on this. Even though you should have been the one to tell me."

I want to wipe the condescending grin off of Daveed's face with my fist, but turn back to George instead, mostly to control my temper. I can deal with Daveed later—and I fucking will.

"I apologize for not telling you about it before this," I begin, locking eyes with George. "And I'm aware that this is not... ideal. But once I explain, I'm sure you'll agree this is the only chance we have left to pull off our mission."

George exhales audibly, his eyes trailing over to Malia. Though she’s standing next to me with her back straight and chin held high, it is obvious that she must be ridden with fear on the inside. I can tell by the way she squeezes my hand, as if she is holding on to me for dear life.

I'd be lying if I didn't admit that I am flattered by her apparent need for me.

"You don't have to convince me, Nate," George says, his eyes resting on our joined hands. "I agree. This may be a kamikaze mission, but what the fuck else can we do? Going down there with nothing is far worse than implementing this plan, regardless that its success is questionable."

Malia jerks back when he rises out of his seat and starts approaching us from around the desk with his characteristic slow, plodding steps.

"So, you're our Onyx," he starts out, coming to a halt right in front of her. Her grip tightens around mine and her eyelashes waver nervously, but she doesn't back away from him. Instead, she brushes a strand of her black locks out of her face in a gesture that could almost be seen as gentle. I watch the exchange, my blood boiling. I hate to see him so close to her. I hated it with Lailah, too, but it's quite possible that I hate it even more with her.

She's mine. My idea. My project. Mine.

"These guys kidnapped you?" he asks her appraisingly.

She nods. "Yes. In Atlantic City."

"What were you doing there?"

Malia hesitates, pressing her lips together timidly as she casts me a reproachful look. None of us asked her what she was doing there. I had been adamant at the time that I did not care who she was or what she was doing in that casino.

Those feelings have changed now, and it's not only because we have to worry about her connection to that Jayson Bowlan guy.

It's more than that.

"I was celebrating," she replies softly, a sadness darkening her expression as she appears to reflect on memories of that night. "It was my best friend's wedding. They eloped, and we were celebrating."

"Cute." George mocks as he exchanges a quick look with us three guys, seeking confirmation that only Mike and Daveed are willing to give him. They huff in agreement but I respond with a dead serious face.

"Now that friend of yours, she and her new husband will probably be looking for you, won't they?"

"They will," Malia says, her voice stronger and louder when she speaks this time. "And I’m sure they’ll find me. Jayson is good at those sort of things."

Her words feel like a punch to the gut, and I notice Daveed and Mike shifting next to me uncomfortably, equally unnerved by this revelation.

I turn to her, applying a subtle pull to divert her attention to me. "Jayson Bowlan?"

"He’s my best friend’s husband," she says, narrowing her eyes confidently when she notices my distress. For a moment, it looks as if she wants to say more, but she stops herself, sealing her lips as if she realized that her disclosure may put her friends in danger.

Which it does.

"And he’s ‘good at those sort of things’," George repeats, mocking her as he adds air quotes to his words. "Girl, if you’re trying to intimidate us, it’s not working. In fact, you’re just making things worse for yourself."

A subtle tremble takes a hold of her as she nods in understanding, her lips still pressed together and her face strained as she visibly fights back tears.

"It’ll be okay," I say, unsure whether I’m talking to her or to George, but I make sure to face the latter. "She knows about the consequences if she fails to comply. And I’ve already started training her, so we can stay on course as much as possible."

George nods. "Good."

He takes a step back then, bringing the glass up to his lips before stopping and looking back at me.

"It may not be the worst idea for them to meet, you know," he says, a concerned look buffeting his face. "Lailah and her, I mean. Before it’s too late."

I swallow thickly, determined to keep a straight face.

"That’s why we’re here," I confess. "To see Lailah."

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