“And if he tests my loyalty?” The words were brittle, like James’s defiant exterior. The way he was standing, the braced, expectant tension in his body—Will realized it suddenly. “You don’t like it.” Will said it like the revelation that it was. Ironic, yet it made so much sense. “You don’t like deceiving people.” Of course he didn’t. Of course, this whole time, he didn’t. James had been tense since they’d arrived, the edge on those cutting remarks growing sharper. And he’d swallowed it down, and let Kettering touch him, and even killed people, just as he once had for Sinclair.
