Ryan's POV
Sweat making his shirt cling to his back, Ryan continued his assault on his punching bag. Not even caring about how badly his lungs were burning and his arms were aching. Before Ryan could land another punch, there was a loud groan. It was swiftly followed by a now familiar tearing sound.
Not even shocked anymore, ( if anything he was annoyed), Ryan just stood there and watched as the straps holding the punching bag tore and the thing crashed to the ground. Seriously, not again!
If it wasn't the bag falling apart and leaking sand everywhere, the straps holding his punching bags just could not do their job anymore. Why in the world had his bags gotten so weak recently. Weren't they meant to withstand rough use?!
