Rodeo doesn't need any more convincing than that. He glances around them, checking the perimeter before his thumb nudges the safety on Crow Jane and he tucks the gun down the back of his jeans. He kneels down, and his big rough hands are exceedingly gentle when he reaches out to grip her shoulder. He steadies her, trying to prevent her from writhing around or trying to sit up again.
"Hey, Marina, darlin'," Rodeo says, looking her over as he speaks. She's beat to hell, he can see that much, but he has no way of knowing if there is damage even worse than what is visible. "Ease up, sugar, don't hurt yourself. You ain't gotta go back there, you ain't gotta go back to those people, alright? I can take you somewhere, somewhere with real good people. You wanna come with me, mama? Nobody'll hurt you there. We'll get you patched up, get you some good food to eat, and when you're better you can decide if you wanna stay with us. That sound good to you?"