“No,” Neil say, simple as anything.
“You can’t say no,” I argue. “I’m telling you I quit.”
“I do not accept your resignation.”
“You don’t have a choice.” I’m getting angry now. It’s difficult to keep my voice level. “I quit, get it? I’m out. Done. Finished. I’m packing my things and out the door by the end of the day.”
Archer glances from me to Neil. He backs up a step as Neil moves forward, coming closer to me.
He stands tall and proud. If he didn’t otherwise look like the poster child for sleep deprivation, you might never suspect that he has silver embedded in his chest.
Knowing he has that wound, and that he is choosing to hide it under such a convincing layer of intimidation is actually pretty badass. Not that I want to give him a compliment.
What I want is to get that silver o
