He's gloved up and pounding away on a heavy bag, dressed in a T-shirt and workout shorts that are drenched with sweat. Big beads of it run down from his close-cropped blond hair. The three or four other men lifting rusted weights stop what they're doing the second I walk through the door. Wokowski appears oblivious—his face is clenched like a fist and his eyes are scowling at the leather he's pummeling. I walk up to within a few feet of him but he still doesn't seem to notice me. The bag receives jarring jabs and huge, hooking body shots. His chin is tucked into his chest and beneath his eyes are the same dark smudges Angela Hernandez had on her face. A day's growth of beard further darkens his countenance. His forearms are glistening with sweat but I can't spot any obvious defensive wounds on them. That doesn't mean that it wasn't him—the heavy coveralls Cali described could easily have shielded his flesh. But it has to be him. There's no one else. It also doesn't make any sense—why would he attack her when he was on the verge of winning her back?
What do You think about Trial By Ice And Fire (2003)?