Burdock’s head snapped back at the blow, and his chair went sliding backwards. Hitting the askew edge of a throw rug, the chair tipped over, landing him on the floor with a loud thud.
With a string of curse words, he shoved himself upright, righted the chair, then turned so he was facing me.
“Okay,” he bit out, rolling his shoulder once like he was working the hit out of it. “I’ll give you that one.”
His gaze locked on mine, sharp, furious…something else under it I didn’t want to name.
“You are one of the best Op’s I have ever seen,” he continued, voice low but carrying weight, “and you are f*****g killing yourself.”
I didn’t move. Didn’t blink. Didn’t give him anything.
“You’ve become a problem for the other members,” he went on, stepping closer now, boots heavy against the concrete
