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?”

take a deep breath, steeling myself for another

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Ava: Life in Westwood

as she stretches out

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

exasperation. “Don’t you have anything better to

remains impassive. “There’s nothing in my life more important than

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

day of his disapproval and disdain. I’m really starting to like him, but also I hate

he’s waiting for us, his scarred

scowl. “You’re

over the antimist aring at him

in Westwood

donuts tomorrow? All you can eat, if we can just take a little break today…”

play games? Fine. Run another

Lisa a glare. She shrugs, unrepentant, and takes off at a jog. I follow, my legs protesting with every step.

now. Early mornings, aching muscles, and a trainer who seems to hate

to complain, I know I need this. Need

For myself. For

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

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, throbbing ache

Life in Westwood

crimson

command cuts through the haze of

argument.

got to be kidding me.” Sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ (ꜰind)ɴʘvel.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and

head, wincing as the movement sends a fresh wave of agony through my body. “Sorry, Jericho. My legs have officially died. I’m going to have to pass. on the sit–ups.”

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

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

he growls, his eyes narrowing to icy slits. “Practice or

choose.”

chest. Neither option appeals, not with my body

alternative–incurring Jericho’s

in Westwood (IV)

likes

dry as I force the words past my lips. “Practice.”

her expression grim. “Practice,” she echoes, her voice a

smile is a razor’s edge,