Page 19 of Incoming Layne Shift

She stood there assessing the tension between the two men before stepping away to scope out the club to get a count of who was currently present outside of the private room.

When she returned, the two guys were still standing where she had left them. She arrived within earshot only to hear the tail end of the conversation between them.

“Layne isn’t Rosie,” Joey said. “She’s—,” his words cut off sharply once he noticed Layne approaching. Whatever else he had intended to tack onto the end of that sentence was left unsaid.

Despite what he thought, Layne had overheard enough for the seed to be planted in her mind about whatever was going on during the conversation she had interrupted. However, they weren’t here to talk about past issues. She had business to take care of.

Her emerald hues stared at the two of them. “Are you two done here? I have shit to do.” The words spewed forth more harshly than they should have.

“Sure,” was all Gage responded with before he stepped away. He dismissed the few remaining employees on the clock, which in turn prompted a very disappointed and sad middle-aged man who had been the sole recipient of entertainment during this slow evening.

Layne didn’t look at Joey while she tried to focus her brain on Italo and what was going on in that private suite. Who else was in there? What information was she going to be able to extract? What did Rosie have to do with anything that Joey and Gage were talking about?

After all was said and done, Gage returned with confirmation. “That’s everyone.”

The second that Layne made a move to head back toward the private room, Joey’s hand stopped her. Easily his hold swallowed up her elbow in his grasp, ceasing her from continuing forward. Her eyes glanced down at his inked hand and then his face wondering what the hell he was doing.

His other hand reached into her pocket and retrieved one last important item. “You don’t know who else is in there.” When he lifted his hand, her mask hung from his fingertips.

She snagged the mask and began to stretch it across her face. “Oh, good. I wouldn’t want anyone to mistake me for Rosie.” Layne knew she shouldn’t have jealousy over a dead woman she hardly knew a thing about. Yet, there was something in the way Joey had spoken her name to Gage that still had her insides twisting with insecurity.

Layne pulled her arm from his grip, not bothering to wait for any sort of reaction to her bitterness. She stormed off to the area where she had noticed the private rooms where only one door was visibly shut. At least she could put her feelings to good use, it would make things much easier.

While the urge to just kick in the damn door was strong, there was no sense in expending extra energy on making a dramatic entrance. She twisted the door knob and much to her surprise, it fully rotated indicating it remained unlocked.

Right as Joey was approaching with his own dark mask now in place, she swung open the door to reveal the occupants inside.

Well… fuck. There were four people inside that room suddenly staring back at her. That didn’t include who Layne assumed to be Danielle given she was the only one with tits out and a strand of yarn for panties. Taking a good look at each man cramped into the room on the velvet sofa, she didn’t recognize any of them. Each of them wore cheap and grungy clothes indicating they weren’t rolling in the big bucks. Low-level thugs.

Layne leaned her shoulder against the doorframe using her small and innocent size to look as unassuming as possible. Behind her back, she spread out four of her fingers and gave them a wiggle. It was the signal to Joey of how many potential threats she saw before her. “I’m Danielle’s replacement for the evening. Which one of you assholes is Italo?”

When she was met with silence and uncomfortable stares, she shrugged and pushed away from the doorframe. “The strong and silent types, eh? I can work with that.” She motioned for Danielle to come closer. When she did as she was told, Layne gave her one more instruction. “Go home.”

The dancer hesitated, so Layne repeated herself more firmly. “Get the fuck out.” The woman with a face full of makeup and glam nodded and slipped out of the room.

That’s when someone finally found their voice and stood up. It was a lanky-looking man who had spent too much time underneath a tanning bed. “Yo, what the fuck, bitch? You into some kinky-ass shit with that mask or somethin’?” He squared his shoulders and thrust his chest forward to look like he was something titillating to look at.

She made sure to keep her eyes out for any other movement, but knowing Joey was out of their sight a few feet away she had very few concerns.

Finally, she decided it was about time to stir the pot and see which one these asshats were going to react. “I told you, I’m looking for Italo. Actually, I’m looking for any one of you who might have been talking to Russell Spencer. Does that name ring a bell?”

Ding, ding, ding! That was the winning ticket. The second Russ’s name was dropped, they all began to scatter like roaches running back to their hidey-holes when the lights got turned on.

It was the man who first stood up that reached her first. The skinny bastard tried to push her out of the way, and instead, her hands latched onto him and propelled him into the hallway headfirst toward a wall. Upon contact, he was dazed and dropped to one knee.

Two more guys ran out behind her, encountering the looming presence of Joey. He clotheslined one who fell to the floor like a sack of potatoes, then grabbed the other by his throat before greeting the center of the man’s face with a harsh punch. The impact shattered the bones of the guy’s nose.

The last one? He ran by Layne just as she was bending over, grabbing a fistful of the first man’s hair, and slamming his head into the wall one more time. Her eyes caught sight of the straggler who darted past her. “Damn it, we got a runner!”

Without a second thought, she released Mr. Crispy-Fried Tan guy who now was blessed with a massive headache. She immediately chased after the last guy who at least had the sense not to run toward Joey. Layne could appreciate his decision to take the opposite path. Joey was nothing less than fearfully intimidating, even without his mask on.

While securing zip ties on the wrists of both of the men he had incapacitated, Joey looked up to see Layne rounding the corner out of his sight in pursuit of the fourth man. “Gage!” he barked over his shoulder for his brother.

Layne sprinted as fast as the short length of her legs would go. The man she was chasing after was quick but not agile. He slowed down each time he had to shift the movement of his feet to avoid running into various pieces of furniture and other obstacles as they entered the back storage area of Cassidy’s. It allowed Layne to cut down the distance between them.

There was a backdoor exit straight ahead of them, and if he made it out that door, he was going to be likely as good as gone. Before she could make a final push to get close enough to him to prevent that, a metal bat swung out straight into the man’s gut. The attempted escapee lost all the breath in his lungs at the unexpected strike that came from off the side and left him lying on the floor.

She tried to skid to a stop right as Gage came into view, wanting to avoid running right into him. He tossed the piece of sports equipment off behind him figuring this guy was as good as down for the time being. Immediately, he held his hands up catching a hold of Layne as she failed to slow her momentum in time to prevent the collision with him.

---