Page 8 of His Black Onyx

"My parents," I breathe out frantically. "Where are they? Did you kidnap them, too?"

He shakes his head. "They're safe, and they will remain safe as long as you play along."

I can't believe this is happening. How can he be so cruel? He says these things as if it's the most natural thing in the world, as if he was conducting a job interview with me or something.

"Why me?" I ask, seeking his gaze with a pleading look. "Why do you want me for this mission?"

His eyes lock onto mine. "Because you look just like her. You look just like Lailah."

There's a hint of sadness in his voice, or so I want to believe. It almost sounds as if he's apologizing.

Or grieving.

And again, that name. He called me Lailah when he first stepped inside the room, and now I know why. Because I have to become her. I have to take her place for some kind of mission, and it’s because I look just like her.

"Who is Lailah?"

His expression hardens in response to my question, but he doesn't say a word.

"And what's this... this mission about?" I probe further. "Why can't she do it?"

He sighs and rubs his hand across his face. "You're asking a lot of questions."

"Can you blame me?"

I lift my tied hands, yanking at the rope that's fastened around them, trying to pull them apart. A dark chuckle vibrates in his throat, lightening the mood for only a split second before I remember how dire my situation is.

"No," he says. "I can't blame you. But you need to remember that you're not the one in charge here. I'll tell you what you need to know. Nothing less and nothing more."

"But—"

"And that has to stop!" he hollers, making me jerk to the side. His expression darkens as he raises his left hand to point at me with his index finger. "No 'buts', no backtalk, and no objections. We don't have time for this. You either comply or you'll deal with the consequences."

Another objection dances on the tip of my tongue, but I manage to keep it to myself. As hard as it is for me to believe that this is for real, that he's indeed threatening my parents’ lives, I need to take into consideration that he may be serious and I don’t want my stubbornness to be what makes him flip.

"So... if I don't comply, you'll...," I stammer, barely able to voice the terrible thought. "You'll kill my parents?"

He nods, pinning me with a sinister look. “So, are you ready to start?”

“What? Start what?” I’m baffled at his question, instinctively shaking my head. “No, I’m—"

I’m cut off by his sudden motion as he jumps to his feet, the bed frame squeaking loudly. He hesitates for a split second, standing with his back turned to me, before he starts marching toward the door.

“Hey!” I yell after him. “Don’t go! Don’t leave me alone in here!”

But he doesn’t even acknowledge me. His hand is already on the doorknob when I add, “Did they… did they put you up to this?”

He freezes, his fingers clenching the doorknob, and he slowly turns his head to look at me over his shoulder. “They?”

“Liliane and Jayson,” I blurt. “Jayson Bowlan. Did he—"

He doesn’t wait to hear the end of my question. He yanks the door open at the same time he switches off the light to his left, and then he’s gone. The door slams shut behind him, leaving me alone in the dark.

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