Page 93 of His Black Onyx

Nate casts me a quick look that suggests he's equally surprised at my demand. But then he does indeed jump up from his seat to climb in to the driver's seat in front. Daveed left the key in, suggesting that they were prepared to make a run for it.

"The gate is still open!" I yell at Nate, leaning forward as if he couldn't hear me otherwise. "We can still get out of-"

"No!" he cuts me off, his hand already on the key when he turns around to me. "No, we won't, Malia. You'll get out. You'll stay here and let them find you!"

My eyes widen in terror. "What? But-"

"No but, Malia. We don't have time for this!" He cuts me off, his eyes darting back and forth between me and the impending danger behind our back. "This is an ambush—and they're here for you! If I take you with me, we'll have a tail on us in no time and-"

"And they'll arrest you, too," I finish his sentence, my hand reaching for the door while our eyes latch on to each other. "Nate, I-"

"Go!" He pleads. "Please, Malia. Trust me. You have to get out. Raise your hands, stay on the ground, call for help—so they'll know who you are."

My heart is racing, following a beat that's wilder than any I have ever lived to. I know he's right. I know I'm not doing him any good by staying inside the car.

And I know I have to be quick.

"Trust me," he repeats when our eyes meet for one last time. "You'll be fine. Stay low. Stay low on the ground-"

"I got it!" I exclaim, unable to fight the tears as my vision blurs.

It's true that everything happens incredibly fast, but seemingly in slow-motion at the same time, in a stress induced situation like this.

I open the door of the car, almost tripping over my own feet as I stumble outside, slamming the door shut and making sure to put some distance between me and the car before I fall down onto the ground, my hands flying up in the air on instinct when I'm facing the weapons pointing at me.

I hear the tires screeching, I hear the sand stirring up as Nate speeds up the car, making a swift turn before he flees down the driveway.

I hear gun shots, and I see heads turning his way, weapons being pointed at him.

"Help!" I cry out hysterically. "Help me!"

And suddenly, all heads are turning to me—while I see the car drive off into the distance.

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