Chapter 9

✧ADAM MEADOWS✧

A flurry of punches struck the mannequin's face, each impact sending a sharp burst of pain shooting up my arm. My muscles burned, sweat dripping into my eyes, blurring my vision. Despite the discomfort, I pressed on; these movements were second nature to me.

The air was thick with the scent of sweat and aggression. This was my solitary refuge, where I could release the pent-up anger carefully contained in every other aspect of my life. A decade ago, I had begun Krav Maga training for self-defense, and now it served as my sanctuary.

Once I had finished pummeling the mannequin, my body throbbed with exertion, sweat cascading down my face and arms. I snatched my towel to dab away the moisture and reached for a third bottle of mineral water. Work had been relentless, and this was my necessary reset.

"Hope Red helped you vent," Dante, the owner of the training center and my personal instructor, remarked dryly. He had nicknamed the mannequin Red; all the training dummies were