(Paytons POV)

1,2,3,4

Punch, jab, duck repeat.

I followed the same methodical pattern given out by Ashton as I took out my escalating frustration on the punching bag in front of me. I had only been out of commission for a couple of weeks and already I could tell the difference in my strength. Stupid hitman in the ring, stupid shitty deck of cards life had handed me, stupid gangs, stupid mother. The list of people to blame went on and on in my head right down the guy selling greasy hotdogs on the street corner.

I wanted my strength back, I wanted that feeling of power when you see defeat in your opponents' eyes as you take them down. I wanted an outlet for the raging wildfire my anger ignited. The thoughts rolled around in my head, blurring my vision, making me beat the punching bag faster and harder until Ashtons voice yelled at me to calm down. A simple command that cut clear through the red haze in my mind.

I looked up at Ashton with wide red rimmed eyes, could he tell I was