Of course, Jay was a football player. And he did have a killer punch. Alex could taste the blood in his mouth. He felt the space where one of his insicors had been knocked out by the force of incredibly well-built biceps and triceps. But he couldn’t feel the pain. The only thing that rushed through his mind was his need to avenge Chloe and the only force that rushed through his blood, across his frayed nerves, was the corresponding adrenaline. It was the only thing that gave him the power to stand up again.

The floor was hard. Not as hard as Alex’s head at the moment, though.

From the ground, Jay looked even more menacing. But as he turned, Alex was able to trip him and send him sprawling. He sprung back up and seemed about to throttle Alex, who had risen from the tiles, but as he lunged, the underdog gave a sharp blow to his gut. Jay’s eyes bulged out as he stumbled backwards.

Alex spat out a mouthful of saliva and blood. “You may be one dirty bastard, Jay. But that does not make Chloe a whore.”