Allison had never been overly concerned with where she slept. If there was a bed, heat, and a shower, she was pretty much content; the way her father complained about being unable to sleep in hotels or guest rooms or anywhere but his own bed had seemed ridiculously picky to her. Of course, Allison did get pretty annoyed by the lack of a bed, heat or shower. Her current room lacked them all.

Allison wasn't entirely sure how long it had been since she'd been kidnapped. Several days, anyway; she was getting close to the point where she'd slept so much that she couldn't fall back asleep anymore. Normally that took about four or five days, but the common occurrence of being woken up to argue and be beaten, as well as the resulting bruises, had probably made it take longer. And it felt like it had been a month and a half. She knew better than to trust how it felt, though.

She had to give the mob credit for being smart; she was certain that they were deliberately screwing up her sense of time. One wall had a window cut into the cement; too high and small for Allison to reach or see through, but light came through it regularly. Or it seemed regular; she'd tried figuring out days by it, until once when she was pretending to sleep and heard a switch click as the light appeared. Some of them liked to tell her days, too. "You have three days left until we get to play rough with you.". But how many days she had left kept changing, skipping numbers she didn't remember hearing or staying on the same one too many times. Allison was almost sure they were lying about those, too. "The boss is getting impatient, I think you have until tomorrow to cooperate before you start losing fingers."

They had cut her hands. Not badly, all the cuts would heal, and they'd left antibacterial ointment so she could keep them from getting infected. But they'd made her watch; held her hands out and her still, cut her palms and the insides of her knuckles, and whispered what else they had permission to do to her if she looked away. "We need you alive, we don't need you happy or whole or clean. Those are just rewards if you behave." She believed them about that.

The cuts had given her a sense of time, though. They were red; clear red, that meant they would heal, but had barely started. So a day since they'd been made, maybe, not more than two. And they stung; the antibacterial didn't have anything like painkillers in it, and Allison couldn't avoid moving them, so every thought that made her fingers twitch broke scabs and brought more pain. Which meant a lot; her fingers twitching was one of the hardest reactions to fear for Allison to suppress, and she was sure that noticing it was why they'd targeted her fingers, instead of her face or somewhere else. They were smart; if Allison hadn't had the start of a psychology major she probably wouldn't notice the goal of any of what they did, and she wasn't sure she noticed all of it now either. Except for telling her how no one could find her, and they'd given up looking, and she was on her own and always would be. They weren't very subtle about that.

But she noticed some, and what she noticed on her own pointed out more. They wanted her giving up, broken and hopeless, so she'd cooperate. If nothing existed but them and her and her room, if there wasn't any chance to escape, it made sense to give up. She did believe they would stop hurting her if she did what they wanted; she wasn't entirely sure why she didn't. Except that she was stubborn, and pain couldn't completely bury anger; they'd hurt her, and she wanted to hurt them back. All she could do for now was refuse to please them, but they'd slip eventually. They thought she was helpless, and wearing down; they were right, and her resistance had gone from screaming and fighting back to blatantly ignoring them to just trying not to be hurt as badly. But Allison was stubborn and patient; she had three years of dreams and memories that proved she could fight, could kill, could be far more lethal than they thought they were.

All she needed was ink, and then they'd all die. She'd tried lying, agreeing to forge something and using the ink they'd given her, but they'd given her less than the forgery needed and demanded that it be passed out before anyone came in her room. She'd tried keeping the ink, but wasn't sure it was enough, and they'd won anyway; Allison didn't have the range to kill from across the room, or the speed to kill more than one before the other four fired. Allison wasn't willing to be shot, so they won, and her hands were cut. She wouldn't lie again; she just needed to wait until someone forgot and brought a pen into the room. Hopefully before she lost fingers.

In the meantime, Allison curled up on carpet, under a blanket, and leaned against the three pieces of wood that made a desk, because stone was too cold and she was shivering already, and tried to sleep.

One week that was ho long Bacchus left red with the Russians weather she was alive or dead he didn’t know and he found himself being at odds with that. Bacchus shifted the fifth in his hand and took a swig of the cheap whiskey it burned his throat on the way down and he forgot his sorrows for a few minutes. Everyone home was gone and those who weren’t wanted him dead. Ulysses was all he had left now and the chip was staring him down. “You been sitting on your sorry ass for a week since we exchanged that girl for the money, either find another job or get off your big ass and go rescue her.”

Bacchus shifted in his beat up recliner and looked to Ulysses, ”We already accepted the money right? You really want to cross the Russian mob for a girl like red?” Bacchus said slurring his words slightly enjoying the buzz he had going and nothing else. “I can send the money back just as easily.” The chimp said grabbing Bacchus’s bottle and throwing it against the wall shattering the glass and spilling the contents. ”I wasn’t finished! …. Your gonna clean that up now right?” Bacchus asked no longer being as pissed with himself as he was before. “Why me you got somewhere to be?” the chimp asked smirking.

”Yeah, gotta deliver some bad news to the Russians they bounced a check it seems.” Ulysses smirked and pulled up the address where he tracked Allison down. “She is either hear or one of their other holding facilities.” ”Going to get my kidnapping gear.” Baccus said almost breaking the chair as he sat up grabbing the sheet of paper with the address. Good ol’ Ulysses give him a possible lead and he could find out where the money goes or this case a little red head.

Twenty minutes late Bacchus was wearing the same thing he was a week ago when he first kidnapped red. He had the same gear same boots the only difference was he had a flask at this point. ”Don’t wait up Lyss.” Bacchus said as he left their warehouse. “Never do.” Was his response as the headed to the address given to him.

Allison heard the door open and shut, but ignored it. She heard the footsteps; two sets, and she'd never learned how to recognize people by their footsteps, except for louder or quieter, which wasn't much use when she only ever had to deal with fully grown men. The carpet probably didn't help either.

"Get up."

Allison ignored that too.

"Get up."

The kick that accompanied the second order was harder to ignore. Allison flinched, but couldn't get away against the side of the desk, and it landed on her arm. She looked up.

Rick and John. Allison was sure those weren't their real names; they'd smirked far too much whenever the names were said at first. Old enough to have graduated college, but not by much, and they probably hadn't gone; she'd heard them mocking John's girlfriend for trying to save money to go, and for being stupid enough to tell John she was trying, so he could find the money and steal it when he wanted. Allison hoped Brittney still had enough confidence to dump him. That she could think about college was a good sign; that she was dating John wasn't.

It was John that had kicked her; he was the more aggressive, despite being younger. Or the more active, at least; Rick enjoyed himself just as much, he just moved less. Allison glared.

They looked pleased. "Still being stupid, bitch?" John grabbed Allison's hair to pull her up; she didn't feel the difference, but stood anyway, and was pulled away from the wall. She left the blanket on the floor, and started shivering. Rick and John were wearing jackets.

John handed her hair to Rick, and he pulled. She fought that, but still ended up standing with her back against him. He let go of her hair to grab her arms instead. It shouldn't matter that he was warm, but it did.

Allison blinked as her head turned when John slapped her. Apparently she'd missed a question. Or he'd just noticed she was out of it enough to accuse her of missing one. It could be either. He grabbed her chin to turn her head back forward again; his fingers dug into bruises. "So, Lily." She didn't answer, and he smirked. His grip might have tightened, but she wasn't sure. "Are you going to be a good girl and do what you're supposed to?"

Allison wanted to shake her head, but couldn't. She couldn't make herself speak, either. John knew; he only waited a few seconds before his grip definitely tightened. Allison wondered if a hand was capable of cracking a jaw. John raised his hand into her vision slowly, deliberately, before slapping her. He let go of her chin, and crossed his arms. He was still smirking. "Answer."

Allison glared. She couldn't see entirely, but that might be because she wasn't bothering anymore. "No."

"You won't answer?"

"No."

"Wrong answer." Another hit, on her shoulder. It jerked and echoed through her, but Allison didn't feel as if it hurt any more.

"...No." Now that Allison had gotten herself to speak, it was hard to concentrate enough to stop. Her mind felt like a flash flood under ice; too much, too fast, invisible and no use. She couldn't even slow the thoughts down enough to recognize them; she just knew they were there, racing in circles too fast to catch.

Another slap. Even John almost seemed bored by it. "You can create forgeries. We know you have. Why won't you? We're running out of patience." He didn't wait for an answer, just grabbed her chin again and leaned forward. "I can only think of one other use for you; do you like that? You could do both."

Allison's pulse was echoing too loud for her to move. Or maybe it was John's pulse, or Rick's; they all felt like they were the same now, and that thought was disgusting. She stared at John, and her mind scrambled and threw every memory of him at her at once. It took her a moment to answer. "...You... don't like me. You aren't interested in me." She tried to twist to look at Rick too, but couldn't turn her head far enough. "Neither of you are."

When had the hand on her chin become gentle? John didn't do that. No one did. "I could, if you wanted me to."

What was going on? Allison wanted to scream, cry in frustrated confusion, but she didn't have the energy. Instead she stared at him. "I... don't... what?" His hand brushed over her cheek, and she could feel tears starting to well up. She didn't have time for that! She was already dehydrated, she couldn't start crying too! "No!"

"Why not?" John sounded patient. Like a therapist, almost; not brushing off her emotions, but focusing on getting her to answer.

"I?" Allison stared more, trying to figure out what was going on. "I'm gay?" Only sort of, but she still didn't think actually explaining that was what she was supposed to do now.

John grinned, bright and friendly, and let go of her to clap cheerfully. "Awesome! We're friends then!"

"What?" Allison had no idea what was going on, and swayed when Rick let go of her. "What?"

Rick was grinning too when she could see him, and John tugged on her arm to sit down. She did, and watched as Rick went over to pick up her blanket, carrying it over and wrapping it around her shoulders. She clung to it. Rick sat down, forming a small circle. Allison wanted to shake them until they told her what was going on.

The circle stayed quiet for a minute before John spoke. "Okay. So, we're friends now, right?" He slung an arm over Allison's shoulders. She curled in on herself a bit, but that just made it easier for his arm to stay there. He seemed to be waiting for an answer, so after a few minutes of silence she shrugged.

Rick continued the conversation. "We can't help you directly very much, but we can tell you how to help yourself, right? The boss doesn't actually have that much for you to do, so if you get it done--you can do that quickly, right?" Allison hesitated, then nodded. "Right, you won't have much to do, and we'll be assigned to basically do and get you whatever you want. So not bad at all."

"After a few weeks of that, they'll let you start wandering around here alone, and going out with escorts. If you behave then, in about a month you can move out, and the boss will buy you a house and everything." John's arm tightened in what could be a hug or a warning equally easily. "All you've got to do is a few signatures, probably just a couple a month. Not hard at all, and you'll have everything you ever want for free. How's that sound?"

Allison blinked and stared at him. Everything was frozen or a few minutes before she shook her head. "...No."

Allison's cry was more from surprise than pain, but she still fell over, sprawling on her side after John punched her. "Wrong answer."

It took the giant some time to track down the address but once he got there Bacchus leaned back on his heels and looked up towards the roof of the building figuring what would be the easiest route to take seeing as he didn’t know exactly where they were holding red. There were a few cameras on the side of the building and at least one above every entrance. Bacchus walked around the building at least once not really concerned or not if he was seen because for all they and he knew they were square at least for now. This little stunt might make him Russian public enemy number one. Bacchus smirked at that and he pictured himself in a suit drinking out of tiny glasses. This thought forced a small laugh as he removed a flask from his back pocket.

Taking a sip Bacchus decided to go for the direct approach because what better way to get your point across than going through the front door. Lifting his phone up to his ear he started to speak, ”You sure this is the place?” Bacchus asked Ulysses who was on the other line. ”No reason, just want to make sure I’m knocking on the right door.”

Bacchus hung up his phone and walked up to a steel door and tightened his already enlarged fist ”Knock, Knock!” Bacchus’s voice boomed out over the sound of metal being caved in as he punched the door once then twice managing to separate it from the frame. Throwing the door behind him Bacchus walked in looking for someone to give him directions all while trying to play the victim.

”Hey you bastards!” Bacchus said trying to add his usual drunken slur behind his voice, ”Ya owe me money!” he was on camera now and actually being watched so he leaned forward slightly and added his top heavy drunken stance. ”Damn it, didn’t you hear me knocking!?!” Bacchus asked as a pair of gunmen entered the room.

Bacchus blinked and lifted his flask and took a sip before shrugging and asking, ”Wrong door?” he waited for a second as if that would give the gunmen a queue to lower their guns, however that wasn’t what happened. Two more guys in suits ran into the room and yelled something in Russian and both produced guns of their own. They continued to yell in Russian. Bacchus blinked and shrugged his shoulder, ”No, English.” he didn’t speak a lick of Russian but if he had to guess it was something about breaking the door down. Bacchus lifted a large finger and gave them the ‘one moment’ sign before leaning over and picking up the dented door.

Without even trying to un-dent it Bacchus pushed it into the wall of the frame where it was knocked free moments before. Turning Bacchus smiled and added, ”Now, how about we lower those gu-“ Bacchus was interrupted by the sound of a gunshot and he looked down his chest to find no holes or singe marks. Bacchus blinked and shrugged lifting his flask to his lips. Unfortunately the stray bullet met the metallic surface of the flask and caused the contents to leak out so as he tried to pour into his mouth nothing came out.

If you ever want to piss of the giant from down under that was one of the fastest ways to do it. Bacchus held the flask out in front of himself then looked to the puddle of whiskey on the floor then frowned. ”That’s just plain rude.” Bacchus launched the flask towards the gunman that had the smoking barrel and managed to knock him back a few inches. He doubled over and Bacchus looked to the others before they started to fire with their guns. ‘Puny humans.’ Bacchus thought as the bullets hit his skin burned holes into his kidnapping clothes then rolled down to the floor. Each bullet left a small burn on his skin which caused an unpleasant wince.

”Ya’ll ****ed up.” Bacchus said closing the distance between him and the other three gunmen on their feet. With a quick motion Bacchus grabbed one slammed him into the floor creating a nice little puddle of red where the guys head used to be. ”Vodka?” Bacchus asked as he grabbed the other one and threw him into the dented door with a loud thud then grabbed the other one. ”Vodka?” the Russian guy mumbled something in english about payment before Bacchus shook his head, ”Checked bounced.” the Russian yelled out for help as Bacchus through him into the ceiling and let him drop back down before he grabbed the one who was still doubled over.

”Look, if you speak any English it will save your life. You ruined my flask and I know it isn’t good to be attached to inanimate objects but a friend made me that and well…” Bachcus shrugged when he noticed he was rambling and then grabbed the guy with two of his fingers around the guys neck, ”I liked it.” Bacchus lifted him off the ground and asked again, ”Now Vodka if you have it. I know how you ruskies always have some lying around.” Bacchus paused for a second and snapped his finger of his free hand. ”Oh right, and if you could point me in the direction of Red that would be great!”

Bacchus blinked and lifted his flask and took a sip before shrugging and asking, ”Wrong door?” he waited for a second as if that would give the gunmen a queue to lower their guns, however that wasn’t what happened. Two more guys in suits ran into the room and yelled something in Russian and both produced guns of their own. They continued to yell in Russian. Bacchus blinked and shrugged his shoulder, ”No, English.” he didn’t speak a lick of Russian but if he had to guess it was something about breaking the door down. Bacchus lifted a large finger and gave them the ‘one moment’ sign before leaning over and picking up the dented door.

Without even trying to un-dent it Bacchus pushed it into the wall of the frame where it was knocked free moments before. Turning Bacchus smiled and added, ”Now, how about we lower those gu-“ Bacchus was interrupted by the sound of a gunshot and he looked down his chest to find no holes or singe marks. Bacchus blinked and shrugged lifting his flask to his lips. Unfortunately the stray bullet met the metallic surface of the flask and caused the contents to leak out so as he tried to pour into his mouth nothing came out.

If you ever want to piss of the giant from down under that was one of the fastest ways to do it. Bacchus held the flask out in front of himself then looked to the puddle of whiskey on the floor then frowned. ”That’s just plain rude.” Bacchus launched the flask towards the gunman that had the smoking barrel and managed to knock him back a few inches. He doubled over and Bacchus looked to the others before they started to fire with their guns. ‘Puny humans.’ Bacchus thought as the bullets hit his skin burned holes into his kidnapping clothes then rolled down to the floor. Each bullet left a small burn on his skin which caused an unpleasant wince.

”Ya’ll ****ed up.” Bacchus said closing the distance between him and the other three gunmen on their feet. With a quick motion Bacchus grabbed one slammed him into the floor creating a nice little puddle of red where the guys head used to be. ”Vodka?” Bacchus asked as he grabbed the other one and threw him into the dented door with a loud thud then grabbed the other one. ”Vodka?” the Russian guy mumbled something in english about payment before Bacchus shook his head, ”Checked bounced.” the Russian yelled out for help as Bacchus threw him into the ceiling and let him drop back down before he grabbed the one who was still doubled over.

”Look, if you speak any English it will save your life. You ruined my flask and I know it isn’t good to be attached to inanimate objects but a friend made me that and well…” Bachcus shrugged when he noticed he was rambling and then grabbed the guy with two of his fingers around the guys neck, ”I liked it.” Bacchus lifted him off the ground and asked again, ”Now Vodka if you have it. I know how you ruskies always have some lying around.” Bacchus paused for a second and snapped his finger of his free hand. ”Oh right, and if you could point me in the direction of Red that would be great!”

The violence was almost a relief; at least it was familiar. Allison knew how that worked; she refused, and she was hit. She refused, she was hit, she refused, she was hit, and it repeated until they lost patience, she was hit a lot, and they left. And then she waited until it started again. So she wasn't any more upset as the scene repeated itself; Rick held her up by one arm, Allison refused to speak or support herself, and John alternated asking if she'd forge things with hitting her when she didn't agree. The hits got harder over the minutes, but not more than they had ended up on other days; they still couldn't risk killing her, or hurting her enough for a hospital to be needed, so Allison wasn't worried. Hurt, but not worried; they couldn't do any more than they'd already done, and she'd already survived.

John ran out of patience, finally, and the actual beating began; her face and shoulders were already bruised, so it wouldn't make any difference. Allison couldn't help flinching and crying at the hits, but still didn't try to get away or stop him until Rick threw her onto the floor. Normally that meant they were done, so she waited a few seconds before starting to roll over and push herself up.

John kicked her in the stomach; Allison would have thrown up if she'd had anything in her stomach, and curled around it if the kick hadn't rolled her onto her back. Rick's shoe shoved her head sideways, and pressed it against the carpet; not too hard, since they certainly couldn't risk giving her brain damage, but still rough enough to hurt. It muffled Rick's voice. "Don't think we can't make you hurt worse than we have. You're running out of time to cooperate, girl." John's foot landed in her side, and Allison gasped at the pain. When the next kick hit her hand and the scabs burst open, she screamed.

Four minutes and Bacchus had a bottle of Russian vodka in one hand and the guy who was showing him around in the other. Bacchus lifted the bottled to his lips and slurred his words slightly as he pushed the guy forward. ”Double time ruskie! Don’t have all day now!” they went down several different hallways and Bacchus was getting tired of quietly walking down the hallway. Being quite wasn’t really his thing any ways.. ”You got another three minutes to get me there or I’m just gonna start running through the place, and you’ll be the one in front of me.” Bacchus said more to himself than the Russian in front of him.

The placed smelled, of what he couldn’t pinpoint his head buzz was making it difficult for him to focus on one smell even with his mutation. He smelled something burning off a ways and the smell of cleaning supplies, gunpowder and metal and occasionally he got a wiff of some kind of perfume or shampoo. It didn’t really remind him of red but that only meant there was more going on here. ”What is this place?” Bacchus asked curiously before the Russian answered with one word, “Storage”. Bacchus smirked and nodded his head, ”Right one minute now. Double time!” it only took another minute before they were in front of metal door similar to all the other doors in the hallway.

Shifting his weight and nodding his head forward to the Russian the man ran and Bacchus turned his attention to the door, ”If it’s not her I’ll be sure to find ya again, you’re the bloke smelling of piss.” it was a simple threat but one he planned on carrying out if this was indeed the wrong door. Bacchus brought his normal sized fist up and knocked on it once then twice. Taking a swig of the bottle again and feeling the familiar burn running down his throat Bacchus super sized his fist and knocked like he did before pushing the door in. ”I knocked and no one answered. Not the most hospitable bunch are ya?” Bacchus said as he spotted red on the floor screaming.

”Red.” Bacchus said more to himself when he could see the hell he made the girl go through this was his fault after all. ”Touch her again and I’m taking the foot. The slow way.” Bacchus said his voice booming now due to his mutation adding to the yell.

Allison's head was facing away from the door, and the shoe stayed on it, so she couldn't see what was happening. She could hear, but that didn't tell her much. Who was Red? Rick and John had dark hair, the only one with red hair was--but no one called her Red. At least no one she knew, so that didn't really help any.

Whoever it was was threatening... either Rick or John; they both had feet on her, really. And loudly; even with her hearing muffled by Rick's foot she could tell.

Figuring out what John was saying was harder; he sounded annoyed, but it wasn't that loud, and Allison was distracted trying to figure out why the person who'd appeared was threatening. He might be helping her--police or one of the various good guys who ran around trying to eliminate crime on their own, who'd found out about... wherever she was; Allison had stopped thinking about it a while ago, and didn't know anyway. Or, in theory, they might be looking for her; seeing as she didn't know them though, that seemed unlikely. Or they could be part of the mob, and Rick and John had gone past what they were supposed to do to her. Or they were part of the mob, and it was just a way to trick Allison into trusting the new one. There wasn't any way to tell.

...They were distracted, though, whatever it was. It took a few seconds for Allison to decide, then a few more to convince herself to take the risk, and twist her arm up to punch the inside of Rick's knee. She'd had to use the hand that had been kicked, and gasped at the extra surge of pain from the cuts.

He didn't fall, but the leg folded, and more weight pressed on Allison's head. She struggled, and managed to get her head up enough to throw him off further so he was stumbling away, and she scrambled away from both of them. She got about four feet before Rick caught up to her; his foot caught her stomach and she was back on the floor, coughing and gasping as he grabbed her arm and pulled her up. She tried to get her arm free, and failed; tried to yell, and at least got words out, though it was still breathless and gasping. "Let go!"

Clearly the man didn’t speak English. If he did Bacchus’s booming voice was being ignored, either way the man was now as good as dead. Bacchus didn’t like being ignored, the giant shifter shifted his weight and launched the half empty bottle of vodka past the guy that just kicked red. The glass bottle whiffed past them both and shattered with a loud crash sending glass and Vodka everywhere. ”You just signed your suicide note!” Bacchus’s voice boomed again as he ran towards the guy that kicked Red.

A few steps and he was on him, Bacchus’s hand reached out like a vice and wrapped around the guys neck who let go of red as soon as his throat was enclosed in the giant’s hand. Bacchus slammed him down to the ground with a loud thud and was about to finish him with another slam to the ground when he heard a gunshot. A bullet hit his skin and fell to the ground Bacchus winced slightly feeling still due to the low level of intoxication he was suffering from. The heat burned a hole in his shirt and he looked to the other guy with the gun and tossed the guy in his hand at him.

The gunman tucked and rolled and fired again. Bacchus roared and jumped to him landing on him with a loud crash. Causing the gunman to collapse under his weight. Bacchus heard a crunch and noticed he was still alive. Reaching for the gunman’s hand Bacchus snapped it between his thumb and forefinger like a twig. He let out another howl of pain and Bacchus stood up and turned his attention over to red. Standing up straight Bacchus looked to the girl and slowly walked towards her.

”I’m sorry Sheila….” was all he could say to the girl as he crouched down to the girl his body still large than usual. Meaning he still towered over her.

Allison squeaked and tried to jump away when she noticed the bottle flying past; considering how fast it was going, that was approximately the time the bottle smashed against the wall, so it didn't make much difference. Her voice was drowned out by the guy yelling, and any movement she might have made was restricted by Rick's hold on her.

That changed when the guy grabbed Rick's throat; Allison scrambled away as quickly as she could as soon as he let go of her, and backed toward a wall. Not the one the door was in, so she was ignored. She held the kicked hand in the other while she watched the fight; it didn't actually do anything, but it felt better than just letting it hang.

That... was definitely the guy who'd kidnapped her, then. What was he doing? He had no objection to her being here, and no reason to object to anything they did to her either; it wasn't like they could demand their money back from him if they killed her. She couldn't think of any reason he'd be here, unless someone else had offered to pay more for her, and even that seemed unlikely. Allison saw no reason to bother hiding her distrust when he approached, and she slid along the wall, away from the guy and toward the door. "Why are you here?" Bantering was automatic for Allison a lot of the time, but right now she was too hurt and too worried for it; instead her tone veered into suspicion and aggression.

She inched away from him and the giant winched slightly when he saw a few of the bruises and scrapes and marks along her body his eyes fixed on her hands however which seemed to demonstrate the worst of her experiences in the care of the Russian mobsters he left her with. Bacchus stood upright and reached from behind him and pulled the burlap sack he first nabbed her with and tossed it to her feet. HE didn’t smile or show nay of his true emotions of pity or sorrow he felt for the girl. ”…..errrr… the check bounced. Can’t have word getting out someone pulled a fast one over on the giant. Got a reputation to maintain….” lied Bacchus as he walked over to the door so she couldn’t escape without him finishing explaining why he was back.

Going around her the long way so she wouldn’t keep cowering in fear from him Bacchus scratched his nose nonchalantly not sure how to continue, ”Imagine they got some more guys coming this way with some guns, maybe even a mutie like me or two… far as I’m concerned you’re free to go. Though I’d stick close by me till we are out of here unless you plan on fighting your way out.”

Shifting his weight forward Bacchus pointed to the burlap sack, ”You might want to use that.” Bacchus said without putting much thought into it that he told her to get into the sack only a week prior to this encounter. ”You want a doggy bag of some russains to go?” Bacchus asked flashing her a smirk as he walked towards one of the guys with the broken hand and stepped on his foot with a loud crunch followed by a loud scream. ”You want to get even with them for what they did?” Bacchus asked the girl curiously. If not he’d kill them both and get a move on and get red to safety.

Allison jumped back automatically from the sack, and stumbled slightly when she landed. She didn't know that it was the same sack, but anything thrown at her was bad. Seeing that it was another sack she could be kidnapped with did not reassure her anymore, and she edged closer to the door.

He noticed though, and she had to decide between staying (relatively) near him or getting closer to the sack. She glared at him and stayed where she was, though she turned to watch him and her hands loosened their grip on each other. She probably couldn't actually accomplish anything against him, but she still felt better if she was able to move.

If this had been nearly anyone else, Allison probably would have trusted him. But it was coming from the guy who'd kidnapped her; that was kind of a difficult issue to get past.

...He probably wasn't working with the Russians any more, though, going by the whole causing-serious-injury thing. Or else Rick and John had seriously offended someone higher up. Allison had no idea which was more likely, or even what would answer the question.

He'd left the door, but Allison was too confused to trust that, either; what if the whole point was that a trap was waiting outside it for her? She backed toward it anyway, but only to get away from the sack she pointed at. "I'm not touching that. Why are you here?"

Her reactions Bacchus decided were warranted however they caused Bacchus to scratch the back of his head with some irritation. ”Well Red, just told ya didn’t I?” Bacchus said taking a few steps towards her but still keeping his distance from her and still within reaching distance of the two Russians who were busy complaining and cursing. Bunch of babies.

”I get paid for jobs that aren’t so nice. As you can attest to.” Bacchus said trying to talk slowly for her so she could understand him and people called him slow, ”I do jobs that aren’t soooooo nice for large sums of money.” Bacchus said rubbing his fingers together so she could get a visual of what he was talking about. ”When I don’t get paid for said jobs that I already did, it makes me look bad and I don’t like looking bad, It makes it harder for me to get more jobs.” Bacchus said standing up and walking over to the two Russians.

”Now, let me ask you again. You want to get your revenge on these two for roughing you up?” Bacchus said looking to the girl and reaching down and grabbing the guy with the broken leg and lifting him off the ground while he flailed and screamed. ”I can help you do that Red. I’m sure they roughed you up. Only fair you do it back to them right?” Bacchus asked as he pointed to the bag, ”We can do it here or take them elsewhere I’m sure they got some friends coming this way soon meaning we’d have to do it quickly here.” Bacchus looked to the door then to the girl, ”Grab the bag and we can take them to go.” Bacchus said simply enough once again hoping the girls disbelief would subside if she was offered her revenge.

”You getting your revenge helps me and you. Sends a message to the people who hire me, ‘Don’t cross the giant’.”

The logic didn't sound too bad. Not exactly trustworthy, beyond this immediate circumstance, but not too bad. Nothing Allison could easily find to spot a lie, anyway. Believing him would make sense. But he'd kidnapped her. Allison was having more than a little difficulty getting past that.

On the other hand, John was screaming, and Rick sounded close to it. That didn't make Allison feel any safer, but it was tempting. Hearing them scream was nice.

Allison kept watching and wavering for a moment before nodding slowly. She didn't take her eyes off the men, but did crouch down to carefully pick up the sack, and fold it over her arms. "Where are we going?" The question was an odd mix of resignation and defensive aggression, and probably sounded quite resentful.