KANE
Kane moved on autopilot showering, changing into a fresh black tee and jeans, then heading down to his garage.
His fingers hovered over the keys of his favorite car, but at the last second, he grabbed the ones for his truck instead.
Tonight, he was driving slow.
It was nearly 8 PM when he arrived at the underground boxing venue.
And he knew she would be there.
The moment he stepped inside, the scent of sweat, metal, and blood hit him like a punch to the gut. The dim lights flickered overhead, casting deep shadows against the caged ring. Voices murmured, bets were whispered, and in the background, the steady thud, thud, thud of fists hitting punching bags filled the silence.