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?”

that.” I take a deep breath, steeling myself for another day of torture.

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Life in Westwood

out her

reverberates through the apartment, and Lisa and I groan in unison. We don’t have to check. Of course it’s Kellan. Here

exasperation. “Don’t you have anything

in my

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

Jericho. Another day of his disapproval and disdain. I’m really starting to like him, but also I hate him more than anyone in this

predicted, he’s waiting for us, his scarred face set

scowl. “You’re late.”

the antimist aring at him “We’ll make it un

Ava Lile in Westwood (IV)

donuts tomorrow? All you can eat, if

scowl deepens. “You want to play games? Fine. Run

a glare. She shrugs, unrepentant, and takes

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

complain, I know I need this. Need to

For myself. For

keep running, pushing through the pain. One foot in

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

in Westwood

face flushed crimson from

cuts through the haze of exhaustion, his

argument.

got to be kidding me.” Sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ (ꜰind)ɴʘvel.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to

my body. “Sorry, Jericho. My legs have officially

his scarred face twisting into a sneer.

a silent acknowledgment that we’ve pushed our luck too far. Jericho’s patience, it

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

choose.”

leaden weight in my chest. Neither option appeals, not with my body

alternative–incurring Jericho’s

Ava Life in Westwood

far worse. He likes coming up with punishments.

I force the words past my lips.

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

razor’s edge, sharp and unforgiving. “Good