TWENTY SIX

DANTE

“Riddle me this,” Enzo said, watching me send the punching bag off its hinges.

“A man gets a splint stuck in his thumb. Thankfully, it’s not a big one neither is it deep enough to require surgery. Yet, said man has refused to take said splint out or allow anyone to take it out for him. Instead, he cradles his injured finger and lets the weight of his pain fall on everyone around him. How could this be?”

I ignored him, picking up the punching bag and attaching it back, readying myself for the next punch.

I intentionally refused to spar with Enzo today, I did not trust myself to not batter his face. As resourceful as he was, he wasn’t the best fighter. A defect he seemed to take pride in.

I vented out the weight of my anger on the bag, this time, sending it flying across the room and too far for me to retrieve.

Rubbing my fists together, I stared murderously at the bag resting close to the exit and turned to Enzo who immediately shook his head indicating he’ll neither be pickin