Sublime

He had an alert look and manner; short, graying dark hair; a clear gaze, no hint of guile—an appealing, trusting guy.

He pointed to each of the speakers on the dais, saying, “I’d be honored, honored, honored, honored, honored, to serve with any of you guys.”45

If Thom had a love language, it would be ratfucking—settling scores and taking out hits on behalf of the people he cared about.

He could watch the Governor twist arms, offer incentives and drop, one by one, with matchless guile, the veils from in front of threats.

“Justice, ’tho it may be an inconvenient restraint on our power, while we are strong, is the only rampart behind which we can find protection when we become weak,”

While he called it “loyalty,” the capacity he prized most in his subordinates was actually the capacity for subservience.