Jefferson's POV
The engine roared beneath me as I tore through the city streets, my hands clenched around the steering wheel until my knuckles went bone white. The mechanical purr of the car did nothing to quiet the tempest brewing in my chest. Gordon had stood beside me through every battle, every betrayal, every moment when the world tried to tear me apart. He wasn't just my right hand - he was the closest thing to a brother I'd ever known.
Or so I'd believed.
The distance between us had been growing for weeks now, subtle but unmistakable. Maybe I'd lost the ability to connect with people the way I used to - emotions had never been my strong suit - but that didn't excuse what he'd done. Gordon was supposed to shield me from the wolves circling my territory, not guide them straight to my throat.
And then there was Cathrine.
