Mason:Inked Reapers MC(68)

Chapter 41



"Again!"



The trainer's voice cut through Jasper's mind like a determined knife.  Squeezing his eyes shut, he grunted and raised the dumbbell above his  head, the veins in his arms expanding with the effort. Sweat streaked  down his back and pooled at his feet.



The weights felt like a ton. Jasper's body began to shake as he  struggled to hold it up. He could feel his bad knee threatening to  buckle. He squeezed his eyes tighter and ground his teeth. He just  needed to work through the pain. He'd come out the other side of it a  stronger, more impressive fighter.



In his mind, he counted to the allocated five and then dropped the  weight. His shoulders relaxed in gratitude as his arms hung limply at  his sides.



"Again!"



The trainer wasn't letting up. His blue eyes were glued to Jasper,  monitoring his every move. With a sigh, Jasper looked away from him to  reach for a nearby towel and try to wipe away some of his sweat.



"I just … need … a minute," he declared between pants.



"No minute. Do it again. Now."



The trainer had a full head of unnaturally vibrant blonde hair and skin  the color of a ripe orange. When he spoke, he revealed two rows of  perfect white teeth. He looked more like a Hollywood movie star than a  trainer. He had, incidentally, apparently trained a number of famous  actors. Carl had casually name dropped as he drove Jasper over to the  gym, eager to boast.



"Seriously," Jasper raised a hand towards the trainer. "I need a minute. I'm not made of steel."



"You need to think you are made of steel," the trainer pressed a  manicured nail towards his own forehead. "Think you are the man of  steel, and it shall be so."



"The man of steel is Superman," Jasper said with a roll of his eyes.  "There is just no way I'm Superman. He's a comic book character. At  least give me some realistic goals."



Jasper saw the blue eyes of his trainer simmer with rage.



"Your goal is to be the best," the blonde haired Adonis stated bluntly.  "There is no other goal. If what you want to achieve is realistic, it's  probably not worth pursuing."



If he were his old self, Jasper would whole heartedly agree with the  American. He used to chase after his goals with dogged determination,  but now he was getting to see what his career was costing him; it wasn't  just his physical health. Kait's image hovered in his mind. If he  wasn't so committed to fighting, he would be with her now instead of sat  in the gym sweating like a pig whilst his body groaned in protest every  time he moved so much as an inch.



Jasper grabbed his yellow plastic sports bottle and hungrily drank from  it. He needed the electrolytes contained within the blue fluid it  contained. But no matter how much he drank, he still felt thirsty.



"Again," the trainer nodded towards the dumbbell which was now placed on  its metal rest. Jasper groaned and drank some more. "If the body is  weak, then the mind must be strong."



Jasper threw down his bottle and leaned back on the bench. He was in no  mood to listen to his new trainer philosophize on the importance of mind  set. He knew how important it was. His mind used to be the only part of  him that was strong, but after countless hours in the gym, his body  finally caught up.                       
       
           



       



Flexing his hands, he cautiously raised them to the dumbbell. He gripped the bar tightly and locked his jaw.



"For the count of ten this time," he heard the trainer nearby deliver  the command, and his heart sank. He was struggling just to make it to  five.



Taking a deep breath Jasper removed the dumbbell and let the weights  lower towards his chest. Then he summoned all that remained of his  strength and straightened his arms.



"One." His trainer began to count.



"Two."



Jasper's arms were shaking like reeds in the wind. Sweat poured from  every part of his body as his teeth clattered together. He couldn't do  this. His body was too weak, too tired.



"Three."



He just needed to hold out for a few more digits. Then it would all be  over. Closing his eyes, Jasper tried to focus on nothing except the  weight he was currently holding. He imagined that his arms really were  steel and could effortlessly hold it up.



"Four."



But the illusion of strength wasn't enough. The trainer formed his lips  to sound the next number as the dumbbell suddenly dropped towards  Jasper's chest. The weight pressed heavily against his lungs making  Jasper gasp for breath. With an angry sneer, his trainer reached for the  dumbbell and returned it to its stand with barely any effort. He acted  as though it were made of straw rather than iron.



Panting and humiliated, Jasper slowly sat up and ran his hands over his  soaked head. This time he had hadn't even lasted to the count of five.  Maybe he really was losing his touch as Carl had cruelly suggested.  Perhaps it was time for him to accept that he wasn't the strongest  anymore. Better to go out now while he's on top than stick around and  let everyone have the pleasure of seeing him fade away.



"Pitiful!" The trainer roared in disapproval. "My grandmother could do better than that."



Jasper's eyes widened in surprise. He highly doubted that any grandmother could do better than that.



"Again."



With a flick of his wrist, the trainer gestured to the dumbbells and  then folded his arms over his chest, a smug expression settled over his  perfect features.



"No," Jasper shook his head and began drying himself off with his towel. "I'm done with that shit for today."



"Again."



"Seriously, no," Jasper could feel himself starting to lose his cool. He  wasn't willing to push his body to breaking point. No title was worth  that. He'd seen guys who had taken things too far. They ended up in the  hospital with injuries that they could never come back from. And they  all said the same thing: that it wasn't worth it.



"This isn't up for debate. Again."



Jasper stood up, his knee feeling precarious beneath him. Somehow  standing made him feel less like a student being told off by their  teacher.



"You see how much I'm shaking. I can't do it again. I've got nothing left."



"No excuses. Again."



"As excuses go, I'd say this is pretty legitimate." Jasper could fee his  temper rising. "I was in the ring only a few days ago, and it was  brutal. My body needs time to recover and heal before I can start  training in earnest. I don't know what Carl is paying you or what he's  promised, but we are done here."



"We are done when I say we are!"



Jasper pushed back his shoulders and tried to appear as imposing as  possible. He suddenly felt like he was dealing with a drill sergeant  rather than a fitness trainer.



"I'm calling time on this, I'm done." He growled at the American.



"I thought the great Jasper Duboix was a real fighter," the trainer  taunted him. "But all I see before me is a scared little boy."



Jasper was furious even though he knew the guy was just trying to goad  him, wanting him to get fired up so he'd train some more. What he needed  to do was just walk away before things became too heated. Scooping up  his towel and yellow sports bottle, Jasper began walking across the gym,  eager to reach the changing rooms.



"Run home to Mommy and Daddy," the trainer mocked him as he left. "That's all you're good for."



Jasper felt his eyes grow moist. One thing he'd never, ever been able to  do was run home to his parents because they'd abandoned him before he'd  even had chance to be a disappointment to them. He wouldn't even know  them if they passed him on the street. The thought made his head pound  uneasily.



Pausing, Jasper raised a hand to his temple. His skin was hot to the  touch. The sound of his heart hammering in his chest echoed loudly in  his ears. The room around him began to tilt on an axis. Jasper reached  out for something to grab onto but found only empty air. And then he was  falling. His feet gave way beneath him, and he landed upon the grey  carpeted floor with a dense thud. For a moment, he gazed at the bright  ceiling lights above him before letting his eyes close and embracing the  darkness.                       
       
           



       





Chapter 42



Kait threw her handbag down and kicked off her shoes. She was relieved  that yet another working day was done. Running her fingers through her  golden hair, she approached the kitchenette and turned on the oven. Her  stomach grumbled in anticipation for dinner. Bending down to open a  drawer in the refrigerator, she pulled out a frozen lasagna dinner for  one. The image on the front looked quite appealing, but Kait knew that  the contents wouldn't live up to such expectations; they never did.