Tangled

105 Ava: Training (II)

Halfway around the track, Jericho pops up again.

There’s never been a person I’ve love–hated as much as him, and I have a fucked up family that inspires all kinds of hate to go with the love a family shares.

“What,” I grunt as I lunge forward, stretching my legs and dipping down with my wildly weak arms. They’re beyond trembling. They’re like jello, and I can barely raise the dumbbells from my sides.

But I don’t stop.

“Straighten your back,” Jericho growls, eyeing my pose critically. “Keep your core tight.”

I adjust my stance, trying to maintain balance as my leg muscles quiver. Jericho grunts, apparently finding my form acceptable, before shoving something at me.

“Here. Two pound dumbbells. Never had to start someone so low before.”

I glance down at the weights, surprised to see they’re a cute, bright pink color. They look pristine, like they’ve never been touched.

105 Ava Training (1)

“Did you have someone buy these for me?” The question slips out before I can stop myself.

Jericho’s eyes narrow. “None of your business,” he barks, turning on his heel and storming off towards Lisa, who’s struggling through her own set of lunges.

I can’t help but giggle–in my head, because I have no breath to spare–as I continue the exercise, the small weights clutched in my hands. Despite Jericho’s gruff demeanor, the fact that he went out of his way to get these for me sends a unexpected wave of warmth through my chest.

It’s a small gesture, but it speaks volumes. Beneath his tough exterior, maybe Jericho isn’t quite as cold as he

seems.

“Lift those arms higher, Grey! You think this is a game?” Jericho’s voice cuts through my momentary warmth like a knife.

my teeth, forcing my arms up despite the burn radiating through my muscles. Sweat pours down my face, stinging my eyes.

Jericho is a heartless bastard

15:23

Ava: Training

drill

break me.

meets my gaze, unflinching, a smirk playing

forward! Did I say you could stop? Keep going!” He barks, folding his arms across his chest. Sᴇaʀᴄh

urge to throw one of these pretty pink dumbbells at his head. Barely. Instead, I force myself to continue, each lift sending fresh shockwaves of agony through my body.

on fire, trembling uncontrollably. I’m pretty sure this is what dying feels like. But I won’t give Jericho the satisfaction of seeing me quit. I’ll

it kills me.

You got this!” Lisa calls out from somewhere to my left, her

Poor Lisa. She’s struggling

to her words like a

15:23

Training (II)

in this together, suffering under Jericho’s tyrannical rule.

few more reps. I can do this. I have to do this. For myself, for Lisa,

Jericho.

the exhaustion, the overwhelming desire to collapse on the ground and

lift is a battle, a war waged against my own

Jericho break me.

track. I have no idea how long

all control over my shaking arms. I’m panting, my heart racing, my entire body

wolves go

close” Jericho

spoken question. “Not a single Westwood wolf is born

energy, I’d protest his

I don’t

said, I’m

through her own exercises, pipes up. It’s amazing how she still has the energy to talk. after everything. “Hey, this

I’m basically

to hear. “Please. These are conditions for a human baby, and yet all you two do