Rev up to one-oh-five.” Joaquín Maldonado huffed, watching the small screen on the stationary bike, stuck on 85 rpm. “Come on, come on. Abdomen hard,” Lars, his personal trainer said. “Keep pedaling. Piece of cake.” Piece of cake twenty years and twenty pounds ago. There was a knock on the door and Nico, Maldonado’s right hand, walked in. “You wanted to see me?” he asked over the loud music. Maldonado nodded and motioned for Lars to leave. “Slow down but don’t stop pedaling or get off the bike. Your heartbeat would spike,” he warned. “You need to continue pumping oxygenated blood into your legs.” Like he could get off by himself with all the wires Lars had strapped on him to monitor his heart, and those damn shoes that locked into the pedals. “When you recover from the cycling, we’ll do some weights.” Damn Swede, fucking worse than the Gestapo. “One of these days I’m going to shoot him. Let’s see how he recovers from that,” Maldonado grumbled after Lars left.
What do You think about Jacked Up (Bowen Boys #4)?
