Page 88 of His Black Onyx

My voice breaks, turning into a helpless croaking when I'm overwhelmed by devastating terror that's been building up for days. I've been suppressing it for so long, always focusing to 'get it done' and—more importantly—get out of this alive and return to my old life.

As much as that is possible.

Because how could I ever return to that? How could I ever be normal again? How could I ever forget...

I can't stop the tears, and I no longer want to. I've been strong for so long, I've tried to do everything that was asked of me, taking solace in the fact that this man may actually care about me and keep me safe through all of this. But now that I don't even have that little spark of hope to hold on to, I can't hold it together any longer—and I don't want to, either.

I erupt into full-throated wailing, sinking down to my knees while I bury my face in both my hands.

I don't see him or hear him move, but he is with me within a few moments, wrapping his strong arms around my trembling body and holding me close, as if he was trying to stop me from falling apart. It's far too late for that, but his embrace soothes me nonetheless. He gives me a place to cry into, a place to hide, a place into which I can disappear—if only for a few minutes—to hide from the horrifying reality that's slowly eating me alive.

"I'm sorry," his voice cuts into my frantic howling. "I'm sorry for all of this, Malia. But... it has to be this way."

"No, it doesn't!" I protest, trying to push him away and free myself of his hug, but he doesn't let me. He keeps me close, only allowing enough room for me to meet his eyes.

"You could just let me go," I utter. "I wouldn't tell a soul. No one would ever know."

He looks at me, sadness marking his expression when he shakes his head.

"You know I can't do that, even if I wanted to," he says. "The Covey would find you. They would follow you, and they would kill you. You know too much. You've seen too much."

"But-"

"No but," he cuts me off. "Please, don't make this harder than it has to be."

I frown at him, the tears still rolling down my cheeks in thick streams.

"I'm making this harder than it has to be?" I ask, huffing with indignation. "You have been so mean lately, so overly strict ever since... ever since Lailah is gone."

He sighs, pressing his lips together while an anguished crease appears between his brows.

"I had to be," he says in a low voice. "You need to be prepared as well as possible, and I'm the one who can help you get there. I need to make sure you get through this. You need to-"

"Get it done," I finish his sentence. "Yes, I know. It's because you want the mission to succeed."

Nate looks at me, slowly shaking his head while his face softens, looking melancholic rather than irritated.

"No, that's not it," he says solemnly. "It's because I can't lose another person I care for. I can't lose you, Malia."

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