207 Ava: Falling Again
207 Ava: Falling Again
“If you want your throat torn out and your blood sucked dry, keep thrashing like a dead fish.”
Jericho’s lovely training flavor assaults my ears in a way that’s way
too comforting, considering the vitriol that comes out of his
mouth.
“I like fish,” I pant, giving up for a second. Lucas was right. Jericho’s been drilling me on falls again.
This time, my arms and legs are tied.
Because, apparently, “I need practice.”
Pretty sure Jericho’s an old sadist, but at least he chose bodyguards who don’t snicker and smirk the entire time they see their charge getting battered and bruised. Or, in this particular case, flopping like a fish.
Gritting my teeth, I thrash against the ropes digging into my wrists and ankles, chafing my skin raw. They’ll be healed by tonight, but for now, it hurts like hell.
“Bend your knees!” Jericho barks. “Roll onto your side and use the momentum to sit up. Then bring your feet under you,”
Easy for him to say. He’s not the one trussed up like a turkey. After far too long on my back, half–convinced my true identity is a turtle, I manage to flop onto my side, panting. Blades of grass tickle my cheek. From this vantage point, I can see Selene sprawled in front of a portable fan, tail wagging lazily. Traitor.
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207 Ava: Falling Again.
It isn’t even that hot outside. Everyone’s just worried about her because she’s a husky, like they aren’t wolves themselves who understand that she’s just fine in this mild weather. All because she pants a lot.
She’s milking it—but no one will believe me.
With a grunt, I rock back and forth until I gain enough momentum to heave myself into a sitting position. “Well, at least you haven’t tied me to a chair,” I mutter under my breath.
Jericho’s keen ears pick up on it anyway. “That’s next week’s lesson.” The sadistic glee in his voice makes me shudder.
Igroan, picturing the bruises those sessions will paint across my
body.
You really need to stop giving him ideas, Selene remarks dryly in my mind.
I shoot her a glare but keep my mouth shut this time. Bending my knees, I wriggle and strain, trying to get my feet underneath me so I can stand. My muscles scream in protest, sweat dripping into my eyes and running down my back.
I’d thought I was getting more athletic and in shape, but right now I feel like a tied–up sausage roll.
“Would you like to take a short break, dear?” Mrs. Elkins calls out from her perch, a camping chair someone brought the elderly woman so she can watch in relative comfort.
She’s supposed to be driven back to Cedarwood, but of course everyone’s fallen in love with her. Especially Selene, who admitted last night that Mrs. Elkins has been feeding her entire plates of
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207 Ava: Falling Again
food leftovers.
Blinking sweat from my eyes, I think about it. Yes, I would kill for a break right now. An ice cold glass of soda, ten minutes in the shade… But then I catch sight of Jericho’s face, his eyebrow arched expectantly. Waiting for me to give up.
Nope, not happening.
“I’m good, Mrs. E,” I wheeze, even as my abs quiver with the effort of holding myself upright. “Just need a sec.”
Liar, Selene accuses. You forget I can feel your exhaustion.
Hush. I’m trying to concentrate here. I know she means well, but her commentary isn’t helping.
Or maybe she’s just screwing with me, blissful in her artificially created breeze.
I’m screwing with you.
I knew it.
Mrs. Elkins frowns, looking between me and Jericho uncertainly. Bless her heart, but I wish she’d read the room. Or the training yard, as it were. Granted, we’re just on a vast field of grass, but it’s where Jericho wants us to practice.
The point is, there’s no way I’m tapping out now, not with Jericho watching me like a hawk.
Channeling what little energy I have left, I plant my feet as best as I can and push off the ground, grunting with the effort. My thighs tremble and my hamstrings burn, threatening to give out yet again. For a precarious second, I teeter, sure I’m about to
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207 Ava: Falling Again
face–plant right back into the dirt.
But somehow, miraculously, I find my balance. I stand there, swaying slightly, hands still tied behind my back, my legs bound together at the ankles. It’s not pretty, but I’m vertical. I’ll take it.
Jericho nods, something almost resembling approval flashing in his eyes, “Better. Now hop over to that oak tree.”
Incredulous, I stare at the tree in question–a good twenty yards away, across uneven ground.
He can’t be serious.
“Sometime today, Grey,” he prompts, making a ‘get on with it‘
gesture.
Gritting my teeth, I awkwardly jump forward, trying not to picture what I must look like. Some deranged cross between a bunny and a worm, probably. Each hop jars my bones and makes the ropes cut deeper into my skin.
There’s a point where I almost fall over, and I’m positive sheer. force of will and a lucky breeze keeps me upright.
This is a lot harder than it looks, and sweat soaks my hairline as I struggle to keep my entire body balanced. It’s amazing how much your arms do for balance. Now that I’m little more than a human worm, I regret not appreciating my arms a little more.
Or I’m a little dramatic, as I tend to be under Jericho’s not–so–gentle coaching.
“We don’t have all day, princess!”
You’re doing great, Ava, Selene encourages. Just a little further.
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207 Ava: Falling Again
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