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The second thug charged at him, and Joey stumbled back against the now-closed door. He struggled with the man for a hot minute before gaining the upper hand and propelled him towards the glass case that contained the emergency fire extinguisher. The glass shattered and the man was rendered unconscious with several lacerations to the face.
Momentarily distracted as she witnessed one pissed-off Joey show up to the party, a bloody hand wrapped around and seized her throat. A sharp and pointy blade pressed below the bottom of her ribcage. Before there was any time to react, the train made a sudden turn around a bend in the subway tunnel causing a massive shift in movement of the car.
She and the lead thug both stumbled, and it was Layne who took advantage of the well-timed opportunity. Her body snaked away from him, his hand smeared a bloody handprint across her throat.
Joey was on top of him before he re-established his footing. The leader’s dominant hand was grabbed and twisted until the bones cracked resulting in the knife dropping to the ground and sliding under a set of seats.
Protective instincts drove Joey’s fist into the guy’s face, beating him down repeatedly. The fresh blood splattered in various directions with each impact Joey made. Even when the man lost consciousness, Joey’s bloody knuckles continued the vicious assault.
“Joey! JOEY!” Layne’s hand grabbed his shoulder, forcefully tugging on it to pull him back. The train began to slow as it approached its next stop. “We need to go.”
He gave one final strike to the man’s face before dropping the body down onto the floor of the subway car. His chest heaving with adrenaline-fueled breaths. The tattoos on his right hand were now covered in the sticky mixture of the man’s blood and nasal fluids.
Joey looked at Layne and then the doors as the platform came into view. His bruised hand wrapped around hers, tugging her along with him to the doors that popped open shortly after the train came to a complete stop.
Fortunately, at this time of night, stations outside of tourist areas had very few people. Joey guided her off the train, leaving the three men behind to lick their wounds. After they both got up to street level, he finally paused to turn and face her. His hand softly took her chin, turning her face to inspect for any injuries.
“I’m fine.” She fought a wince, feeling the burn along her side now that the adrenaline was fading.
His hand dropped away from her face as he looked over the rest of her noticing the tear in her shirt. When he went to lift it to take a look, her hands shoved his away. “Let’s just get home, it’s a scratch.”
The fact he hadn’t spoken a word since they stepped off the subway train wasn’t reassuring that he was going to be a happy camper for the remainder of the evening.
Layne would have been nominated the world’s biggest liar if she had said that by the time they did make it back to her townhome, she wasn’t in a little more pain than she had been willing to admit for a mere scratch on her side.
Once the front door shut behind them, Layne attempted to lighten the mood. “Didn’t expect you to run late to the fun back there in the subway.”
That was the wrong fucking choice of levity.
Joey glared at her. “I went to take a damn leak, Layne, and just barely boarded the last car before the doors shut.”
Getting defensive at his tone, she deflected it right back at him. “And I would have had everything under control until you came and caused a distraction.”
“Yeah, you really had things under control.” The sarcasm and anger heated his words.
“Don’t get pissed at me, I didn’t invite the jackasses to come tango.” She yanked off her coat, tossing it over the banister of the stairs. Layne then turned to look at the mirror mounted on the wall, lifting her shirt to reveal a cut where she must have gotten nicked during the scuffle. Examining the wound in her reflection, she tried not to grimace. She wasn’t so successful.
Joey took notice and exhaled his frustrations at what had transpired, he was more concerned about making sure Layne was okay. He came up to her, placing a hand on her lower back and motioning at the living room. “Go, sit. That needs to be cleaned up.”
Stubbornly she responded. “I can do it.”
“It wasn’t a suggestion, Layne.”
She looked at his eyes there in the reflection, not having it in her to die on this hill, she lowered her shirt and went into the living room. Layne eased herself into one of the armchairs. Joey disappeared briefly, only to return with a first aid kit.
“Shirt off.” He commanded.
Layne pulled her arms through the sleeves and eased the fabric up and over her head, dropping the shirt to the floor leaving her sitting there in just her navy lace bra. He pulled up an ottoman and took a seat in front of her as he began sorting the materials he required.
His typically rough hands were surprisingly gentle as he began to clean the three-inch cut on her side. Layne had gotten lucky that it wasn’t deep and only needed minimal attention.
“That kick you gave to the two guys though.” A bit of pride tugging at the smile settling across his face.
“Impressive, right?” She grinned, only to flinch as he applied pressure to the sorest part of the injury.
“Just about done.” He took a few more minutes to fix her up before applying a bandage over it. His hand motioned to the dried blood smeared across her fair skin. “Go get yourself cleaned up. I don’t want to keep looking at the reminder that another man’s hand was on that pretty little throat of yours.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
