Chapter 99 Ava: Life in Westwood (IV)

A plastic thud startles me awake. I crack open an eye to see Lisa's alarm clock skitter across the floor, her arm still extended from the throw.

"I can't do this anymore," she moans into her pillow. "Everything hurts. I think my eyelashes are sore."

I laugh, but it turns into a groan as I slide out of bed, my muscles screaming in protest. Four days of Jericho's training from hell, and my body still hasn't adjusted. I'm not sure it ever will.

"Do you think the bodyguards would murder Jericho if we asked nicely?" Lisa's voice is muffled, her face still buried in her pillow.

"Stop dreaming." I limp to the bathroom, each step an agony. "And get ready. You know he'll just make it worse if we're late."

Lisa's groan follows me as I shut the door, a smile tugging at my lips despite the pain. As much as I hate the early mornings and the constant ache in my muscles, there's a part of me that relishes the challenge. Each day I push myself further, each day I grow stronger.

Selene would be proud.

The thought sobers me as I stare at my reflection in the mirror. Four days, and still no sign of her. I'm starting to wonder if she'll ever come back. If I'll ever be whole again.

I splash water on my face, the cold shock chasing away the melancholy thoughts. I can't afford to dwell on what I've lost. Not when I have so much to gain.

By the time I emerge from the bathroom, Lisa is up and dressed, her hair pulled back into a messy ponytail. She shoots me a baleful look as she tugs on her sneakers.

"I hate you for being a morning person."

"I'm not a morning person," I protest, grabbing my water bottle. "I'm just better at pretending than you are."

amusement in her eyes.

like that." I take a deep breath, steeling myself

Lisa stands, wincing as she stretches out her legs.

unison. We don't have to check. Of course it's Kellan. Here to pick us up, just

door, eyeing Kellan with

"There's nothing in my life more important than

cheeks. Well, well. What do we have here? But before I can needle her about it, she shoves past Kellan, leaving me to follow in

short, but not short enough to avoid the dread pooling in my stomach. Jericho. Another day of his disapproval and disdain. I'm really starting to like him, but also I hate him more

his scarred face

How about we bring

to play games? Fine. Run another

shrugs, unrepentant, and takes off at

a trainer who seems to hate us. But as much as I want to complain, I know I need this.

myself.

teeth and keep running, pushing through the pain. One foot in

fucking snails, Jericho points out, like he does every damn day—my legs burn. Lactic acid (something I've learned about in recent days) scorches my muscles, a deep,

Lisa's chest heaves, her face flushed

cuts through the haze of exhaustion, his tone

sound a pitiful whimper. "You've

agony through my body. "Sorry, Jericho. My legs have officially died.

curls, his scarred face twisting into a sneer. "Well, aren't you two being real fucking

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