Bang!
The punching bag swung loudly as I kept on hitting it. Sweat poured down my entire body as my fists met with the bag. I held the bag in place and held my hand up, swinging my fists hard against it.
I blinked when a drop of sweat entered my eye, the sting made me lose focus for a few seconds. I paused and wiped the sweat away. I rubbed my eye for a few seconds, the sting still settled on there as I exhaled loudly. I pushed forward, balancing the punching bag, before swinging my fists.
It wasn't enough. I needed more.
Dror threat rang in my head. He knew who I was, and the only way he wouldn't tell Damon about my real identity was if I brought Damon to him.
I felt pulled from both sides; there was no way I was letting him come close to Damon. I still couldn't shake the feeling that he'd done something bad to Damon, even if I didn't exactly know what it was.
I couldn't imagine the kind of trauma Damon would have if he were to face Dror. What if his memory came back?
