Honestly, the animosity coming at him from all sides only helped Cox deal with the panicked feeling, so a part of his mind welcomed it with open arms. Zoe's hand tightened and Cox's mouth opened, and it took every thread of self control he had not to make a noise. As the woman pulled him closer, he gave a fake grin and said, quietly enough that only she could hear it and with just as much sarcasm as before;
"I... am really sorry... that I thought ya looked like a hobo. No, really, I am. I promise, I'll never, ever do it again."
His voice was a little shaky from the cold, and he gave a test tug to see if she'd let go, aiming to step back into the snow. Honestly, once his now extremely tender privates were free, he would consider talking to the man who was apparently a doctor from some other hospital, possibly to ask for directions to a phone or even a hint as to where in the hell he was. As for the pretty damn scary harlot who had nearly taken whatever remained of his manhood away from him, well, unless she was going to toss a little info his way without him having to ask too obviously for it, he was pretty content with the idea of not having to deal with her anymore.
Who the freakin' hell did she think she was, anyway? In that coat and with that attitude, and those... well, put it this way, she looked like she'd just walked off the set of a really piss poor cowboy movie.