Tangled

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. O

“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

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99 Ava: Life in Westwood (IV)

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.”

Lisa snorts, but there’s a glimmer of amusement in her eyes. “Fake it till you make it, right?”

steeling myself for

13:37

217

Ava: Life in

stands, wincing as she stretches out her legs. “But let’s do this

to check. Of course it’s Kellan. Here to

with exasperation. “Don’t you have anything better

“There’s nothing in my life more

have here? But before I can needle her about it, she shoves past Kellan, leaving me to follow

the dread pooling in my stomach. Jericho. Another day of his disapproval and disdain. I’m

us,

“You’re late.”

aring at him “We’ll make it

Lile in

bring donuts tomorrow? All you can

“You want to play games? Fine. Run another mile. Both of you. Now.”

bite back a groan, shooting Lisa a glare. She shrugs, unrepentant, and takes off at a jog. I follow,

life now. Early mornings, aching muscles, and a trainer who seems to hate us. But as

I need this. Need to be stronger, faster,

Selene. For myself. For whatever comes next.

grit my teeth and keep running, pushing through the pain. One foot in front of the

damn day -my legs burn. Lactic acid (something I’ve learned about in recent days) scorches

Ava Life in

crimson from

the haze of exhaustion,

argument.

groans, the sound a pitiful whimper. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” Sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ

body. “Sorry, Jericho. My legs have officially died. I’m going to have to pass.

scarred face twisting into a sneer. “Well, aren’t you two

and I exchange a glance, a silent acknowledgment that we’ve pushed our luck too

two options,” he growls, his eyes narrowing to icy slits. “Practice or spar. You’ve got two seconds to

choose.”

heart sinks, a leaden weight in my chest. Neither option appeals, not with my body screaming for mercy.

the alternative–incurring Jericho’s

Ava Life in Westwood

far worse. He likes coming up with punishments.

my mouth dry as I force the words

she echoes, her voice a

smile is a razor’s edge, sharp and unforgiving.