Devil's Sons M.C. (Manxman)

27.

Jesse

I clean the sweat trickling down from my face and neck with a small towel on the rack. I run my fingers through my mahogany hair and feel even more sweat accumulated on my scalp.

My body burned, my muscles were screaming, my legs were shaking but it felt good in that intense-workout adrenaline pumping way.

It's all I've been able to do after being oh so graciously kicked out of the club yesterday. I'd picked up an extra shift at the factory last night where I worked as the supervisor of merchandise transport. From there, I got home and cleaned the shit out of everywhere. I may have washed the bathroom twice, and maybe washed all the dishes in the house too... twice. That wasn't enough, I had too much energy and needed to burn some of it off. I'd hit the gym after my cleaning spree, where I've been now for the past four hours.

I grab the bottle of water from my workout bag and gulp it like a starved man, my body appreciates the water like the treasure it is.

I head back to the treadmill to burn off some more of this energy that was still buzzing in me. I keep saying energy but honestly it's more like anger, anger that I need to get out of my system.

I'm angry. I'm angry at bruiser, I'm angry at the Devil's Sons, I'm angry at Luke, I'm angry at whoever took those weapons that kickstarted this whole fiasco. I was angry at everybody.

But now I just wanted to drop due to the fatigue that's coursing through my veins. Does that stop me? Nope it doesn't, as I take the extra energy left in me and run like a mad man on the treadmill. My body screams at me for the punishment, my legs cry out in agony, my arms falter in pain, my head just feels woozy.

It's probably not a good idea to run on the mill after an intense weightlifting session. Highly do not recommend.

I continue this till my legs refuse to carry me anymore, the fatigue takes over me and all I feel is my body and the floor colliding.

The world around me spins for a minute or so, as I simply lay there. I close my eyes to try and regulate my heavy breathing.

More sweat around my forehead, down my temple, around my neck, the length of my torso, my shirt was soaked and clinging to my body.

Talk about work till you drop.

Thankfully it's about midnight and I was pretty much the only one in the gym at this time, which is why I had all the equipment to myself.

"Are you okay?" A concerned voice rings out and I groggily open my eyes to see who it is.

Brown eyes focus on me, worry swirling around them as he gazes down at me. Right, the guy behind the desk, I forgot he was still here. "I heard the noise and saw you on the floor via the camera. Can you stand?"

I wiggle my toes to make sure I still had legs, because I still couldn't feel them. They felt like logs of wood attached to me, heavy and immobile. I stretch out my hand and he grasps it, pulling my weight and he pulls me up from the floor. A loud groan of discomfort escapes me as I lean my weight on the guy as we move quickly to the bench by the side. "I'll get you a drink."

I keep wiggling my toes and slowly the numbness in my legs dissipate and feeling returns to them. "Thanks man." I receive the energy drink gratefully from the man, twisting the cap quickly, I down the liquid.

"Dude I thought you were dead for a second there."

Yeah well that's what I get for overworking my body.

"Looking for where to stash your body would have been a bitch." I turn instantly to look at him, my eyes widened as I stare at the skinhead guy .

"Or you can call 9-1-1?" I offer as a solution, choosing to believe I'm not literally sitting next to a psycho.