to rise. Jake clambered out of bed, groggy, bleary-eyed, dragged down by an overwhelming helplessness as he contemplated what lay ahead.
“ Do I have to do this? ” he muttered.
Wolfe heard. “ Take it one day at a time, kid. You ’ ll be right. ”
He led Jake down to the basement.
Crank was working out silently in the corner. He kept to himself, giving nothing more than a nod of acknowledgement in Jake ’ s general direction before turning back to the squat rack. Otherwise, the basement was empty. It felt colder when it was unpopulated; larger, more intimidating.
Wolfe took Jake through a two-hour workout session consisting of nothing more than heavy weights training. Low repetitions, high intensity.
Halfway through, after what felt like an eternity had passed, Jake collapsed. Rugby training was nothing compared to this torture.
“ Up, ” Wolfe barked, his voice stern.
Jake sucked in air. He was sweating profusely, yet he was cold. He felt sick. His skin was clammy. For a fleeting moment, his stomach heaved and he looked up at the bleak surroundings with trepidation.
“ I don ’ t want to, ” he said.
Wolfe crouched. “ You ’ re barely an hour in. You ’ ll never survive if you keep this attitude up. ”
“ This is too hard. ”
“ No, you ’ re just overwhelmed. Shut your mind off. I don ’ t want to hear another word of complaint. Now get up. ”
Jake had never seen Wolfe like this before. The friendly demeanour had vanished. It was somewhat encouraging. He rose, forcing away the pain, and continued.
*
With a strain and a grunt of exertion, Jake faltered. Veins in his head throbbed, as if set to burst. Blood rushed to his face, turning his cheeks a shade of crimson.
The bar had stalled halfway through his final set of bench press. It hovered over his chest. Heavy plates were stacked on both sides, threatening to crush him if he couldn ’ t finish.
Wolfe hovered overhead, spotting him. He was ready to catch the bar if Jake ’ s arms gave out.
“ Take it, ” Jake gasped, his face beet red.
“ You don ’ t need me! ” Wolfe yelled. “ I ’ m the easy way out! ”
Jake flicked an internal switch and heaved with a final, desperate reserve of energy, his muscles screaming. The bar rose just a little, but it was enough. He let it fall back into its supports. It came to a jolting, crashing halt. The weight plates crashed together, echoing through the empty basement. Crank had long since disappeared.
“ You ’ re done, ” Wolfe said with a grin.
Jake retched. “ Ahh – I didn ’ t think I ’ d make it through that. ”
“ But you did. ”
Wolfe extended a hand. Jake took it and rose up off the sweaty bench.
“ Listen, buddy, ” Wolfe said, draping a muscular arm over Jake ’ s shoulder. “ You just did that. Be proud of yourself. Your training schedule looks daunting, but you and me, we ’ ll get through it. ”
Jake revelled at the change in atmosphere. “ Why are you so friendly all of a sudden? ”
Wolfe grinned. “ I ’ m hard when I need to be. But I ’ m not here to be mean. I ’ m here to get you through this. I ’ m your friend. ”
“ Thanks, Wolfe. ”
The two bumped fists.
They were up in the kitchen eating breakfast by seven-thirty. Jake had never been worked like that before. Rigorous kickboxing training in the past had lent him a high fitness level, but Wolfe ’ s regime had targeted areas of his body he hadn ’ t known existed. It had been grueling, but the no-nonsense approach had worked.
Now, Jake was spurred on by a burst of confidence.
One session down, he thought. Take it one day at a time.
Thorn cooked breakfast. Although his seven-foot frame looked odd handling kitchen utensils, he proved a surprisingly competent chef.
“ Eat as much as you can, ” he told Jake. “ You need fuel for the rest of the day. ”
After wolfing down a plate piled high with eggs and draining a protein shake Thorn had crafted, Felix
“ Do I have to do this? ” he muttered.
Wolfe heard. “ Take it one day at a time, kid. You ’ ll be right. ”
He led Jake down to the basement.
Crank was working out silently in the corner. He kept to himself, giving nothing more than a nod of acknowledgement in Jake ’ s general direction before turning back to the squat rack. Otherwise, the basement was empty. It felt colder when it was unpopulated; larger, more intimidating.
Wolfe took Jake through a two-hour workout session consisting of nothing more than heavy weights training. Low repetitions, high intensity.
Halfway through, after what felt like an eternity had passed, Jake collapsed. Rugby training was nothing compared to this torture.
“ Up, ” Wolfe barked, his voice stern.
Jake sucked in air. He was sweating profusely, yet he was cold. He felt sick. His skin was clammy. For a fleeting moment, his stomach heaved and he looked up at the bleak surroundings with trepidation.
“ I don ’ t want to, ” he said.
Wolfe crouched. “ You ’ re barely an hour in. You ’ ll never survive if you keep this attitude up. ”
“ This is too hard. ”
“ No, you ’ re just overwhelmed. Shut your mind off. I don ’ t want to hear another word of complaint. Now get up. ”
Jake had never seen Wolfe like this before. The friendly demeanour had vanished. It was somewhat encouraging. He rose, forcing away the pain, and continued.
*
With a strain and a grunt of exertion, Jake faltered. Veins in his head throbbed, as if set to burst. Blood rushed to his face, turning his cheeks a shade of crimson.
The bar had stalled halfway through his final set of bench press. It hovered over his chest. Heavy plates were stacked on both sides, threatening to crush him if he couldn ’ t finish.
Wolfe hovered overhead, spotting him. He was ready to catch the bar if Jake ’ s arms gave out.
“ Take it, ” Jake gasped, his face beet red.
“ You don ’ t need me! ” Wolfe yelled. “ I ’ m the easy way out! ”
Jake flicked an internal switch and heaved with a final, desperate reserve of energy, his muscles screaming. The bar rose just a little, but it was enough. He let it fall back into its supports. It came to a jolting, crashing halt. The weight plates crashed together, echoing through the empty basement. Crank had long since disappeared.
“ You ’ re done, ” Wolfe said with a grin.
Jake retched. “ Ahh – I didn ’ t think I ’ d make it through that. ”
“ But you did. ”
Wolfe extended a hand. Jake took it and rose up off the sweaty bench.
“ Listen, buddy, ” Wolfe said, draping a muscular arm over Jake ’ s shoulder. “ You just did that. Be proud of yourself. Your training schedule looks daunting, but you and me, we ’ ll get through it. ”
Jake revelled at the change in atmosphere. “ Why are you so friendly all of a sudden? ”
Wolfe grinned. “ I ’ m hard when I need to be. But I ’ m not here to be mean. I ’ m here to get you through this. I ’ m your friend. ”
“ Thanks, Wolfe. ”
The two bumped fists.
They were up in the kitchen eating breakfast by seven-thirty. Jake had never been worked like that before. Rigorous kickboxing training in the past had lent him a high fitness level, but Wolfe ’ s regime had targeted areas of his body he hadn ’ t known existed. It had been grueling, but the no-nonsense approach had worked.
Now, Jake was spurred on by a burst of confidence.
One session down, he thought. Take it one day at a time.
Thorn cooked breakfast. Although his seven-foot frame looked odd handling kitchen utensils, he proved a surprisingly competent chef.
“ Eat as much as you can, ” he told Jake. “ You need fuel for the rest of the day. ”
After wolfing down a plate piled high with eggs and draining a protein shake Thorn had crafted, Felix
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