PRESENT
GRAYSON’S POV:
The day had been draining in a way nothing in the last eight years of my career had been. My head was buzzing, my body twitching with the kind of restlessness only violence and pain could cure.
I adjusted my gym bag on my shoulder before pushing the door open. The company gym was mostly empty at this hour—half the staff gone home, the rest too tired to linger. On the rare nights that I did find a soul or two still hanging around, I just turned around and drove to the private gym in the mansion I never used anymore.
But tonight, I couldn’t wait. I needed to hit something. I was even willing to tolerate unwanted company if it came to it. I just needed to hit something, to bleed the frustration out of me before it split my skull open.
Every thought since the eleva
