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The October Trials

Page 2

by Gianna Black

Don’t cry. Don’t cry.

Don’t. Cry.

BY THE TIME I reach the dorms, my chest feels like it’s caving in.

I expect an empty room, a few precious minutes to pull myself together before work. Instead, I find Parker sitting on my bed, tapping his foot in time to a video on his phone.

The second he hears me, his blond hair spills over his forehead as he looks up. “Hey, baby.” His brows pull together. “What’s wrong?”

I lean against the door, trying to gather the pieces of myself before they spill across the dingy carpet. “I had a meeting with my mom’s doctor.”

Parker is on his feet immediately, crossing the room in a few quick strides. One hand settles on my hip while the other brushes a strand of hair from my face. “And? What happened?”

“Her body’s shutting down.”

“What?”

“There’s a new treatment. She needs it.” My throat constricts so tightly it burns. “Now. Or soon. There’s no exact deadline, but…” I force myself to swallow. “A few months, maybe.”

His grip on my hip tightens. “Okay. Then we do the treatment.” His voice softens when he catches the lone tear slipping down my cheek.

Damn it. I have a rule about crying in front of people.

“Hey, don’t cry, baby.” His thumb brushes the tear away.

“It’s sixty thousand dollars.” I sniffle. “I have a thousand in my account, if that. Nine hundred, maybe. And Sonny and I still have to split her medication costs for this month.”

Mom’s insurance dropped us five months ago. The second they realized how sick she truly was, they cut us loose—which, brilliant system, great country, love it.

“Jesus, Blair.”

I pull away and walk to my closet, dragging out my work shirt. I need to move. If I stop moving, I’ll break. One tear is all I can afford to shed today.

“You know what this means, right?”

Parker’s words stop me cold. He says them quietly, but they land like a lethal blow. My hand freezes on my favorite pair of black slacks, the ones I wear when I’m trying to look like I have my shit together at work.

“No.” I shake my head. “Parker, no.”

“Baby…”

“Don’t.”

“I told you, the Legion can help with your money problems.”

My stomach drops—and keeps dropping, something tearing loose on the way down.

The Legion.

He’s been circling their orbit for months, clawing his way through whatever twisted initiation they force on recruits. He’s not officially in yet, but close enough to know things.

Things he definitely shouldn’t be telling me.

“People say they’re dangerous,” I breathe.

He walks across the room and grabs my hand before I can pull away. Looking me dead in the eyes, his blue ones darken. “That’s just gossip.”

“Is it?” I search his face. “Sloane said one of them gave her boyfriend a black eye.”