Page 32 of Bounty
“God, I hate these,” Mom groaned, already shaking after two.
Thirty lunges were our standard, fifteen for each leg. This routine was years old, but she still struggled to stay balanced and maintain proper form.
“Only twenty-eight left,” I teased, grinning at her glare.
“Don’t remind me.”
Stuckfaded intoInferno, Phoenix Rising’s most popular song, and a love letter to his controversially young wife. The questionable timeline of their relationship aside, Georgie and Sloane Mason seemed to have a strong bond, and I aspired to have the connection they shared.
How had they done it? How had she known, even under eighteen, that Sloane wasthe one? In interviews, she often mentioned love. How much she loved Sloane and how much he loved her. I still maintained respect was more important and impactful because love rarely lasted. But a connection? A bond? Yeah. That lasted.
I mistakenly believed I was bonding with Slice.
I shook my head to rid thoughts of him. It was bad enough I’d cried myself to sleep again last night. I didn’t need to remind myself every five seconds that he didn’t want me.
“Thank God that’s done,” Mom breathed, twisting her body and settling onto the floor.
Huh, I hadn’t even realized we were done. Brooding over a guy had its perks. Thirty lunges breezed by.
We moved onto the crunches. We practiced many alternatives of them, depending on the day. Today, I was feeling punch crunches. At home, I did those with dumbbells. Nonetheless, maybe attacking the air would help me feel less mopey.
I adjusted my legs until they were separated by the ideal width. “Punch crunches okay with you, Mom?”
“Yep,” she answered. “An extra arm workout is always good by me.”
For some reason, Mom hated her arms.
With her confirmation given, we began to move, lifting our upper bodies, holding the crunch, and punching with each fist. Mom’s movements were more controlled, while mine were faster and more aggressive. Each time I punched the air, I imagined Slice’s stupid face. Not the healthiest coping mechanism, but I’d held myself together by a thread for almost two days. I’d rather drop a dumbbell on my foot than talk about my emotions. Imaginary violence it was.
“You all right, sweetie?” Mom asked near the end of our circuit. “You’re going a little hard with those hits.”
Shit.
Ifshenoticed, I really needed to dial it back.
“Just wanna make up for the junk we’ll eat later.” Hopefully, the answer satisfied her. “Plus, I have to burn away all the extra food we’ve eaten on this trip.”
Not much more than usual. Yesterday, I had neither the time nor an appetite for most of the day.
Until dinner last night, Mom finished signing books and swag while I saw to last minute preorders and sorted mugs, T-shirts, posters, and lip balm. I’d packed the rolling carts and set up a livestream for Mom, where she’d blastedInk and Ironand preened over Slice on her cover and his appearance at the signing.
The wordbountyran through my head—Striker’swords. But I dismissed it. They weren’t concerned so why should I be? I proceeded to post the address of the signing. Sapphire Knight, the event organizer, talented author, and all-around lovely woman, allowed the attending authors to raffle two tickets to readers. Mom told me to include the address in my posts, so I did. I was fairly certain the VIP tickets were sold out. Not many tickets would be available at the door.
Mom grabbed my fists, mid-punch. “Effie, love, I think the fast food is worked off,” she said, giggling.
“Right,” I panted. I’d exerted a lot of energy into the exercise.
Luckily, Mom believed my explanation with no further questions. She hovered at the wrong times.
I started the punch crunches again.
“Stop, Effie!”
“We eat healthy at home, Mom, but when we travel, it’s a different story. I’m trying to burn extra calories.”
“I understand,” she said, fanning herself. “I’m going straight to my treadmill when we get home.”
Halting my fists, I nodded. I missed our at-home gym. Heath had been the one to suggest having the garage double as an exercise room. Once he moved away, we commandeered his equipment, including the giant exercise mat preferable to the hotel floor.
