Alex's POV
By the time I’d thrown my twentieth punch, my knuckles were sore and my shoulders ached, but I didn’t stop, and even if I wanted to, I couldn’t. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Jaxon’s stupid face, his scowl, his smug tone, and the way he talked to me like I was a damn child.
Thwack.
My fist slammed into the bag again, and again, and again.
I imagined his face right there on the leather, that arrogant look he wore when he told Dorian to "get out."
Who the hell did he think he was? Dorian wasn’t even bothering anyone, and he hadn’t done anything wrong. He had even apologized to Jaxon like twice, and what did Jaxon do? He acted like some overbearing territorial lunatic.
Thwack. Thwack.
“Since when do you have friends?” I mimicked under my breath, punching the bag harde
