Much had eyed up the suitcase as it came out, and eyed up Apollo. Crouching down near his legs, he tugged at Apollo’s ankle, checking to see how stiff he was. It was probably lucky for them that his leg still bent okay, but it was going to be a challenge to wrestle him into it. “Too bad he looks too shit to Weekend at Bernie's him,” Much said. “Doubt even Marcie’s epic makeup skills’d help us out here.”
This earned him a sharp look from Tragos as he crossed the floor and took the knife from Marcie’s hand. He should have been the one to pull it out, he felt. “You didn’t need to-” he began, sounding harsh at first before he caught himself, and forced himself to soften his voice. “You don’t need to touch him again, Marcie, I’ve got this,” he said, one hand on Marcie’s arm.