The fight was what he'd wanted. Punching bags didn't hit back, and the give and take was what he'd been looking for. He was already bruised from going out a few nights before, those older bruises purple and green, spread and fading.
His head snapped back as he twisted, trying to turn with Isaac's momentum, wrapping his arms around him. If Marcus was going down, he was fucking well taking Isaac to the floor with him.