Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 78961 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78961 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Chase nods his head, looking satisfied with his answer.
I don’t know why but I’m a little disappointed.
I don’t have time to linger on the emotion though, because Dale’s hand drops from his face and he gives me the ugliest look.
“Okay, let’s see what you got, String Bean. Get on the treadmill and start fucking running.”
* * *
Dale is trying to kill me, I think while bent over, staring at the floor. My body shudders hard one more time but I think the last of my heaving has passed.
He started me on the treadmill, forcing me up to 10 mph, then he got me down on the mat and made me do a hundred pushups. He claims he’s just checking my endurance, so he knows how to train me, but I think he’s really trying to kill me so he doesn’t have to waste his time training me.
After the pushups, he got me back up and forced me to do sprints. Out of pure stubbornness, I managed to push through the sprints, hoping it would be the last of the torture.
Unfortunately, I underestimated the level of his sadism.
After the sprints, he pushed me into sit-ups then more sprints. After the second round of sprints came jumping jacks.
During the jumping jacks my body decided it had had enough and I started to throw up.
“Fuck, what kind of crap are you eating?” Dales asks, eyeing everything I threw up on the floor.
I wipe my mouth off with the back of my hand and straighten. I have to take a deep breath and swallow before I answer him. “I had lunch at work.”
“Where do you work?”
“Burger Bells.”
Dale makes a face of disgust. “You gotta stop eating that shit.”
It’s all I can afford but I nod my head and my bite my tongue. I know there’s no point in arguing with him.
Dale pokes me in the side. “You’re seriously underweight. You need to up your protein intake.”
I nod my head again. I’ll just start ordering the double burgers and taking the buns off of them.
“I guess that’s it for the day,” he says like he’s disappointed. No doubt he was probably looking forward to torturing me some more. “We’ll pick this up same time tomorrow.”
I nearly collapse in relief. I was so sure he was going to punish me for puking all over the floor.
“Go grab a mop and clean up this mess before Chase sees it.”
I nod my head and can’t get away from him fast enough.
I sure as fuck don’t want to give him a chance to change his mind.
My knees protest but I walk-run my way over to the utility closet. Mark is already there by the time I reach it, wheeling out the mop and yellow bucket.
I give him a confused look, and he smiles sheepishly at me. “I got it, Christy. Chase told me to clean up for you.”
“Oh,” I say flatly, my face warming with embarrassment. So much for Chase not seeing it. “I guess everyone was watching, huh?”
“Yeah,” he says, nodding his head. And I just want to die right here, right now. Everyone was watching me fail and puke my guts out. I’ll never live this down.
But then Mark goes on to say, “I don’t know how you survived all of that. I would have passed out during the second round of sprints.”
Now I feel really confused. Was that a compliment?
“I don’t know either,” I tell him honestly. “I guess it was sheer stubbornness.”
Mark nods and tells me, “You did great.”
And now the moment is awkward. I’ve never been very good at handling compliments.
“Well, thanks!” I tell him and start walking towards the women’s locker room.
“Hey,” Mark calls out from behind me and I pause, glancing back at him before I walk through the door marked ‘Women only’. “We should hang out sometime.”
Seriously? He wants to hang out with me? Even though he has to clean my puke up?
“Uh, yeah, sure.” I wave at him and push through the door before he can stop me again.
Today just keeps getting crazier and crazier.
I reek of puke, but it’s one of the best days I’ve had in a long time.
* * *
After showering and getting dressed, I stuff my dirty clothes into my backpack and head out.
Alex and I never did work out an exit plan so I just walk out the front door and head up the sidewalk like I do every night after training.
If he shows up and offers me a ride, good. If not, I’ll just hit the motel for the night.
I walk about a mile before I hear the purr of Alex’s engine in the distance. My heart immediately does a little flip flop and I can’t deny my relief when he pulls up.
Leaning over, he pushes open the passenger side door and tells me to, “Get in.”