Chapter 63

HAYES

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

It’s been five horrible days since I left Sloane, but the wildfire that’s erupting inside me isn’t close to dying out.

I slammed my fist into the punch bag, reveling in the sharp burst of pain that jolted up my arm. My muscles burn and sweat drips down my forehead into my eyes, blurring my vision, but I don’t stop. The smell of sweat and violence stains the air. This is the