I may have gotten off, but I was nowhere near satisfied. I wasn’t sure I ever would be again.
The lights felt hotter than usual as I ran through the stretches. Pushing and pulling and moving, shaking out muscles, loosening aches and pains.
“You’re getting stronger,” Tracey said as she stood up.
I shrugged, catching my breath. “I’m already strong. My legs are just catching up to the rest of me.”
She laughed. “I believe that.”
I glanced over at Jess and saw her give me a slight nod. I figured she liked that line, which pissed me off a little bit. Ever since the charity event, I had been feeling more and more trapped by the cameras.
Before Aubrie showed up, they were just another means to an end, another PR stunt to further my career. But suddenly they had become an obstacle standing in the way of something that I wanted more than anything else.
“You ready for ten more?” Tracey said.
“Always ready for more.”
By the end of the halfway point of our morning session, I was already drenched in sweat and exhausted. I was probably pushing myself too hard, but I had something to work for, something more than just the ability to jump off tall shit again. We took our usual fifteen minute break, and I sat with my back against the wall, catching my breath as the crew wandered off. Jess approached me with this sly half smile.
“How’s it going today, Based?”
“Fine. How’s exploiting my image going for you?”
“Come on, don’t be that way. We’re getting some good footage.”
“I’m so glad I can be entertaining.”
She smiled big. “I actually wanted to talk to you about that.”
I blinked at her. “What now?”
She crouched down next to me. “We need more, Lincoln. You getting all sweaty is good, but we can’t just show you working out for two hours. We’re trying to sell this as an inspirational, meaningful piece.”
“You have all my tapes.”
“Yeah, we do. And that’s good. We’ll use plenty of that.”
“And the interviews.”
“Good stuff there, too. But we need to see you being a regular human, too.”
“What, I’m not normal enough?”
She laughed. “No, you’re a freak. We both know it.”
I frowned, not sure if I should be pissed off or if she was trying to compliment me. “Where are you going with this?”
“We need you to do stuff. See some friends. Talk to your family. Do anything other than mope around between PT sessions.”
That definitely annoyed me. “I don’t mope. What the fuck do you want from me?”
“I want you to do your job, Lincoln. Spend some time with your sister.”
“Stepsister,” I correct her.
“Whatever. Talk to your mother. Help out with one of her events. Call up some old high school buddies. Do something other than act so damn depressing all the time.”
I clenched my jaw and struggled to my feet. Jess stayed crouched down and looked up at me.
“Fuck you, Jess. I’m giving you as much as I can.”
“It’s not enough.”
“Too damn bad.” I turned away and began to limp toward the door.
“I’ll talk to him, if I have to.”
I stopped and slowly turned back toward her. She stood up and smirked at me.
“The fuck you just say?”
“I’ll talk to him. I don’t want to, but I will.”
“You think this is some fucking game? That you can threaten me with my stepdad and jail and whatever else?”
“I need more, Lincoln. Just give me a little help with this.”
“I’d rather rot in a fucking cell again than help you.”
I turned and limped away, not bothering to listen to her reply. I was furious, beyond angry. I never thought the phrase “seeing red” could be literal, but I was literally seeing red. Everything was tinged red. I wanted to break something, to make something bleed, to punish something the way that I felt like the world was punishing me.
I wanted to crush the whole fucking house in the palm of my hand.
I ended up walking out the front door and slamming it behind me. I took a few steps out into the yard, breathing heavily.
“You okay?”
I looked over my shoulder at Brent the cameraman smoking a cigarette.
“Yeah. Fine.”
He shrugged and took a drag. “You look pissed.”
I nodded at him. “Bum me one?”
“Sure.”
I hobbled over to him and took a cigarette and the lighter. I breathed deeply, flicking the lighter on, sucking the smoke into my mouth and inhaling it into my lungs. I handed him back the lighter as the nicotine hit my head, giving me a satisfying little buzz. I used to smoke all the time back in Europe, but ever since I had come back to the States, I had decided to quit.