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

take it back. Jericho is a heartless bastard after

15:23

Ava: Training

A sadistic, merciless drill sergeant determined

break me.

hair plastered to my forehead. He meets my gaze, unflinching, a smirk playing at the

his arms across his chest. Sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ Find_Nøvel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the

throw one of these pretty pink dumbbells at his head. Barely. Instead, I force myself to

are 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.

if it kills me.

out from somewhere to my left, her voice

Poor Lisa. She’s struggling

I cling to her words like

15:23

Ava: Training (II)

support. We’re in this together, suffering under Jericho’s tyrannical rule. United

do this. For myself, for Lisa, and

Jericho.

the exhaustion, the

my own limitations. But I keep going, fueled by sheer stubbornness and the refusal

Jericho break me.

I make it around the track. I have no idea how long it’s been. I’m

over my shaking arms. I’m panting, my heart racing, my entire body drenched in sweat.

Westwood wolves go through this level of hell?

close” Jericho scoffs, answering mv

“Not a single Westwood wolf is born as weak as you are right now.”

had the energy, I’d protest his

don’t have any.

I’m

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

basically

“Please. These are conditions for a human baby,