Jack looked toward the door where Lena had disappeared, his mind made up. "She wants a war? She's got one."
---
Next day,
Jack slammed the heavy bag with a right cross, sweat dripping from his brow. The rhythmic sound of his fists connecting with the leather kept his mind steady, even as the chaos of the Syndicate loomed over him. Victor stood nearby, arms crossed, watching Jack's form with an eagle eye.
"You're improving," Victor said, his voice steady. "But improvement isn't enough. You need focus."
Jack paused, leaning against the bag to catch his breath. "I am focused."
"Not enough," Victor snapped. "Lena's faster, stronger, and she knows how to get inside your head. If you're not ready, she'll break you before you even step in the cage."
Jack opened his mouth to respond, but the gym door creaked open, and his stomach dropped.
"Speaking of Lena," Victor muttered.
