Page 29 of Collateral Damage

Chapter Twelve – Jess

Holy fucking shit, this is going to kill me.

I stand next to Chris, looking at the obstacle course and wishing someone had bound and gagged me last night before making this bet. There is no way on God’s green earth I’ll be able to complete this course. Especially since it seems to be the hottest day of autumn we’ve had since I can remember, and especially not with the way my stomach is doing cartwheels in my abdomen.

“So, what do you think?” Jensen and Chris give each other a slight smirk before Jensen looks at Skyla and me, waiting for us to answer his question.

“Meh, piece of cake,” Skyla declares, raising her hand for a high five. I meet her palm with mine, totally faking confidence. I might’ve thought she had more sense than to get roped into this, but I’m so glad she’s here. Tyler had no choice but to agree after piling on last night, although we haven’t seen him yet.

We’re standing in front of what looks like a giant sandpit with what I’d imagine ogre-sized jungle gyms would look like. There are walls, tires, huge round cannonball-looking things, and other forms of torture. I even see one of those mud pits that you see military guys crawl through, but I guess since this is a military-designed obstacle course, it makes sense.

Chris looks at his watch. “I think Tyler may have wussed out on us.”

“Nope,” Skyla says. “Here they come now.” Tyler slides into a parking space next to Jensen’s car and gets out. He repositions his cap on top of his head and looks at the course. I can’t be sure of his expression since his eyes are covered by his sunglasses, but I’m almost sure I just saw his Adam’s apple bob nervously. Jared turns and glares at him. “I thought you said this was gonna be a piece of cake.”

“It is. If these two oafs can do it, so can we.”

I duck my head to hide my smile. Jared wasn’t even with us last night when we decided on this dim-witted outing, and yet he’s here and about to endure our self-inflicted torture right along with us. That must be love, all right.

Despite having started things last night, I realize now that I may have misspoken. I know that whatever Jensen and Chris do for their basic training doesn’t even come close to what we’re about to do today. I also know that what I teach in my fitness classes isn’t going to come close, either. Those round steel balls look to be about sixty pounds.

“What the fuck are you wearing?”

Chris looks at Tyler, who is in designer Nike fitness wear, his legs defined in his leggings. Yeah, that’s right. The guy showed up to a military-style obstacle course in designer leggings.

Tyler grins. “It takes a real man to wear leggings.”

Just then, the idea hits me. “Oh my God, I’ve got it!” I screech, startling even myself.

“Got what?” Skyla turns to me from her position on the ground, where she’s tying her shoelace.

I turn to Chris. “I know what I want you to do if I complete the course.”

“Hit me then.”

I smirk inwardly. I’m about to wipe that smug smile right off your face, mister. “You have to wear leggings to my next fitness class.”

I swear to God, Chris isn’t a guy of many words on the best of days, but I think he’s completely speechless, and I know why. It almost makes the fact that my body is revolting against me worth it. And the reason for Chris being speechless is if he accepts the challenge too willingly, it will look like he hasn’t got faith in me, and if he doesn’t, it will look like he’s scared to lose to me. It’s perfect.

“Good morning, ladies and gentlemen.”

A tall guy with blond hair and dark brown eyes steps in front of us, effectively cutting our conversation short. His arms behind his back. He’s dressed much like Chris in a black T-shirt and cargos, but Chris fills his out way, way better.

“Morning,” we all chorus.

“I’m Grant Watts, and I’ll be your instructor today. Welcome to Spartan. Today we have a military-style obstacle course laid out for you. We have eight activities, of which the Hercules Hoist is one of our hardest.”

My brain literally short circuits as he explains each step of the course and what will be required of us.

“Are you ready?”

We all voice different variations of agreement, although mine is a tad bit less than enthusiastic. No one seems to notice, though.

“On your mark. Go!”

Chris and I sprint to the first wall, neck and neck. I hop up and, using my arms, place my foot on the edge of the wall and hoist myself over. He’s a beefy guy, and since I’m smaller, I have speed on my side. I race to the next one and hop over just as fast, Chris hot on my heels. The bet isn’t about who finishes first, but about me finishing at all. The fact that the guys took advantage of our drunken state does not win them any gentleman awards at all.

After the second wall, there’s a bunch of tires stacked next to each other. We both have our own rows, two tires wide and twelve deep, that we have to run through. So far, this isn’t bad at all, but then I realize the next obstacle is the rope climb. We have to get all the way to the top to ring a bell.

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