He knew it, but there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it. He missed Elena like hell. He couldn’t sleep. All the doors in his place stood wide open. Project Alpha Wolfe had become Project Dead Dog. He’d been taking out his frustrations in the gym, but he was working out so hard, his body was starting to break down. He’d run on the treadmill so long the other day, he’d barely been able to walk when he’d gotten off it. He stared out of the window of the penthouse with his hand fisted against the glass. Everything she’d said had been the truth. Right, dead-eye centre of the target. He had to grow back that thick skin that she’d peeled away. He needed to toughen up and turn a deaf ear to all the critics. He knew that, but they’d come at him through his soft underbelly. They’d gone after her. They’d noticed just as quickly that she was gone. He’d stayed in the apartment for another two days after she’d left, but his claustrophobia had expanded until even the entire top floor of the building had seemed too small.
