Why am I this Weak?

Zane:

I waste no time the moment I see Boris leaving the hall. As I get off the stage, I make my way outside the house to see the godfather with a group of four men. One has Kiara in his arms, and the other three are standing in front of the trunk.

I make my way to them as they pull Tristan out of it, holding him side by side. As I move towards him, one man makes to stop me, but Boris grabs his hand.

“Let him be,” he says, but I do not turn back to look at him.

Without giving it a second thought, I send a sharp jab to Tristan’s face, causing him to slip out of their grip, landing on the cold tarred ground on his back. My hands reach for his collar, crumpling it into my fist as I send more punches to his stupid face.

“What did you do to her?” I yell with every muscle in my body, aching to spill his blood, but he keeps mute.

“I said, what did you do to her?” I punch him in the jaw, rearranging his face to the side.

He coughs out blood, but I feel no remorse for him. I send in another pu