Read Online The Revolt (The Reapers: Book Two) by Katharine Sadler - Free Book Online Page B

shoulder.
    “We’re going to be stuck here for a little
while and there’s not much point in leaving the condo. I understand
you want to help Angelica.” He paused and, when I didn’t argue,
continued. “But our time here would be better served with me
training you.”
    I didn’t think helping Angelica would
interfere with my training, but I didn’t argue with him. I couldn’t
argue with him when he looked so lost and sad. I almost missed the
obnoxious Jed I’d gotten used to. “When can we start?” If I
couldn’t leave, I needed to do something.
    He must have felt the same way, because he
smiled. “Right now. I want to show you what I can do, and then you
show me what you can do. For the moment, we’re partners and we’re
going to train like it.”
    I followed him downstairs and walked over to
the stereo. I don’t train without music, and I wasn’t about to let
him choose the tunes. Cat liked to work out to ‘80s pop that made
my ears bleed, but she never stooped to argue about musical
preferences. It was an unspoken rule that whoever got to the stereo
first chose the music, and she’d always pretended like my choice
didn’t bother her. Still, she’d managed to be the first one in the
training room most days of the week. I’d never been good at getting
up early, even for the sake of decent tunes.
    I removed Jed’s iPod and stuck mine in,
scrolling quickly through my options. It felt like a good day for
Killswitch Engage, which was about as hard as I liked it. I figured
I might as well listen to what I wanted while I had the chance.
There were a lot of screaming lyrics and pounding bass, but there
were some more mellow segments to the songs, too. I thought I was
being polite by not turning the volume up very high, but when I
turned to face Jed his expression suggested otherwise.
    “Please tell me you don’t actually listen to
this? For enjoyment?” he said.
    I couldn’t help but smile, which really
wasn’t very nice. He’d had a rough couple of days, too. I didn’t
care. I started wrapping my hands, shaking my hips to the beat. I
stretched and tried to work the soreness out of my muscles, I
couldn’t do anything about the bruises, but I knew once we got
moving I’d forget about them. The sound pumping through the
speakers made me smile and I even danced around a little to show
him just how much I enjoyed it. He rolled his eyes and shook his
head. “Could we at least listen to something a bit less… um…
obnoxious?”
    “Obnoxious?” I asked, holding back a laugh. I
could see the signs, and knew that if I started laughing I wouldn’t
stop. I needed to hit something before I lost my mind. I walked
over to the punching bag. “What are you sixty?” I wound up and hit
the bag with a right cross that burned off my laughter.
    He actually chuckled. “No, I just have taste.
I like to listen to music, as opposed to screaming and banging on
things.”
    I shrugged and hit the bag again. “You sound
like my father.”
    “I’ve met your father, and I’d have to
disagree. He might not love this music, but he is a Metallica fan,
so he’d probably appreciate it more than I do.”
    That stopped me and I almost got hit by the
backswing of the bag. “Seriously?”
    He nodded and some of the tension left his
face. “Yeah, he used to play it on the rare occasions he was at his
desk. My mom’s office was down the corridor from his and he always
had candy, so…”
    “Huh.” I did my best to sound nonchalant,
though I was dying to ask more. My dad was a loser who’d
disappeared on me and my mom when I was eight, and I didn’t want to
care what kind of music he liked. Still, I couldn’t help the way my
heart leapt at the news. I was nothing like my mother, and it made
me kind of happy that I had something in common with my father at
least.
    “How about we make a deal,” he said. “Whoever
can pin the other one first gets to choose the music.”
    My first instinct was to shout no fair,
because