punches Binder

Binder sneered at her, and then at me, presumably so I wouldn't feel left out. "Oh, I get this now," he said. "Good cop, bad cop, is it?" He looked at me. "Stone-cold bitch here makes me sit for bloody hours in this chair to soften me up. Then you come in here, polite and sympathetic as you please, and I buckle under the stress, yeah?" He settled more comfortably into the chair, somehow conveying an insult with the motion. "Fine, Dresden," he said. "Knock yourself out. Good cop me."
I looked at him for a second.
Then I made a fist and slugged his smug face hard enough to knock him over backward in the chair.
He just lay there for a minute, on his side, blinking tears out of his eyes. Blood trickled from one nostril. One of his shoes had come off in the fall. I stood over him and glanced at my hand. It hurts to punch people in the face. Not as much as it hurts to get punched in the face, granted, but you know you've done it. My knuckles must have grazed his teeth. They'd lost a little skin.


Turn Coat Chapter 31, Page 289-290