Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 90315 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90315 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
His jaw flexes, and his hands ball up into fists.
“What if you’re running away from someone who’s trying to take you, and you have to run over something small, like a tree trunk or a board or something? You have to have the balance and the skill to get across safely.”
“Whatever, let’s just do this.”
He’s quiet as I stand in front of the tires, ready to go again, but he doesn’t give me the signal.
“We’re done,” he says.
“No, we’re not. I didn’t make it through without failing.”
“You’ll try again another day.”
I shake my head and count down from three, and then I take off, running through the tires.
I’ve figured out to not go too fast straight off, because I don’t want to trip. I lift my knees high as well, so I don’t catch my toe on the inside of a tire, which could also make me fall and smash my face or break a wrist.
The rings are my nemesis, but I remember what Gideon said about using my legs, and I actually make it across this time.
The climbing wall is the worst on my hands, but I haven’t failed on that one at all, and I don’t this time either. Then I have to crawl under the rope web.
I hate this one. I don’t love being this close to the dirt. Maybe that wolf spider decided to make this handy premade web a home and thinks I’m the intruder this time.
Don’t think about that.
When I approach the balance beam, I take a deep breath, calming my nervous system before I put my foot up to walk across. I take it fairly quickly but try to stay focused so I don’t fall off, and to my surprise, I make it all the way to the end.
Next, I have to drag a pile of tires to a line about ten yards away. I grab the rope and hold on to it, putting my back and legs into it as I tug with all my might, pulling the heavy-as-fuck tires behind me.
Finally, I’ve crossed the line, and I can drop the big rope.
My hands are bleeding, my lungs screaming, but I don’t care right now. I have to do this hop-back-and-forth thing with platforms that are tilted, and I have to jump between them. There are no railings, and I don’t have the best balance, so I have to concentrate.
But I do it.
I haven’t been this far before. I have two things left.
First is a long tunnel that’s only about three feet high, and I have to run crouched down. No crawling allowed, and if I stumble to my knees, I have to start over.
I will not stumble.
It’s also dark, and I don’t like that, but I make it out the other side.
One obstacle left, and then I can tell Gideon to go fuck himself because he won’t be fucking me today.
This is a super-tall rope net—I have to climb it, get myself over the top, then climb down to the ground.
This is going to suck.
I get up about halfway and hear myself groan because my hands are so torn up.
“Lena, get your ass down here.”
Ignoring him, I keep climbing. I’m slow. Really slow, because my arms are shaking, and it’s hard to breathe, and my hips are a nightmare, and I don’t know why. I’m trying to avoid using the pad of my hand where the skin is split to hold on to the rope. Finally, I reach the top and lie across the board, resting my cheek against it, and psych myself up for climbing down the backside of this torture device.
“You’ve got this,” I hear him say, but I think I might be stuck.
My limbs don’t want to listen to my brain, and tears fill my eyes.
“Lena, you’ve got this, baby.”
Oh, now he wants to be sweet.
“I’m stuck.”
“You are so fucking badass, Lena. You can do this. Swing that sexy back leg down.”
I turn and look down at him. He’s smiling at me.
He’s fucking smiling at me.
Damn it, I want to stay mad at him, but he’s smiling at me, and I love his smiles.
“Have I mentioned I hate heights?” I say after clearing my throat, and his eyebrows climb into his hairline.
“I’ll talk you through it.”
“Have you jumped out of airplanes?” I ask, distracting myself. I need all the distractions if I’m going to get out of this without an injury. Like, a brain injury from falling on my head.
“Yes. Too many to count.”
“Was it part of your training?” I lower my back leg and find the rope with my foot.
“Yes. Good job, Rebel. Your foot is secure.”
“What else did you have to do for training?”
“All kinds of shit.”
“Did you have to do one of these obstacle courses?”
“Yes, this is designed after the one I trained on.”
“Really? Does this mean I could be an army Ranger?”