Chapter94

#Chapter94

My muscles hurt, they hurt like they've never hurt before but I continue to punch the fucking bag in front of me.

In my mind, a scene from when I almost died keeps repeating like a shitty movie, and I never want it to happen again, never want to let anyone have the power over me the way Greyson had, so I keep on punching the fucking bag.

Hold on, keep it up, only five more fucking minutes and then you can take a breath, Axel.

I'm so focused on hitting the punching bag that when a hand touches my shoulder, I almost knock out the owner of the hand.

/"Easy there, tiger./" a man, about 50 years old says and puts his arms up in defence. /"I don't mean no harm./"

He speaks with a thick british accent, and looks like he's been through a shitload of crap in his life, probably because of all the wrinkles on his face.

Only now I realize how exhausted I am and how harsh my breathing is, my lungs screaming for air.