Page 4 of Protected

But I’m constantly scared. Constantly angry. Constantly hungry. And I don’t want to stay that way for the rest of my life.

Hooking up with this group might not be any better, but it’s not likely to be much worse.

And at least it will be different.

I lick my dry lips. “Okay. I’ll help however I can, but I’m not fucking anyone.”

“Understood. I’m Logan. You can meet the rest of us along the way.”

I tug on my braid, but Bigfoot won’t loosen his grip.

“Let her go, Deck,” Logan says in a crisp tone.

Bigfoot—definitely named Deck—finally lets me go. I whirl around to face him, and we scowl at each other.

He’s manhandled me, lifted me off my feet, grabbed my shirt, grabbed my braid, and held a gun to my head. I don’t like him at all, and I hope I won’t have to exist in close quarters with him.

Without a word, he moves to the back of the Jeep and returns the food I stole to its place. Then he returns and thrusts my bag at me, still scowling slightly.

I take it since it’s one of my few remaining possessions. “You don’t have to be an asshole about it.”

He just scowls some more.

“Deck doesn’t speak,” Logan says, evidently noticing the brief byplay.

“What?” I look from Deck to Logan and back. “What do you mean?”

“He doesn’t speak. At all.”

I had a cousin who was deaf, so I learned enough American Sign Language to communicate with her. Without thinking, I sign and mouth out the words, “Are you deaf?” to Deck.

His scowl lessens, and he gives his head a brief shake.

“He can hear,” Logan tells me. “He just doesn’t speak. He used to. He worked for me before Impact. But he hasn’t said a word in almost two years. If you get nervous, stick close to him. He’ll take care of you.”

I’m wise enough not to say so, but that’s definitely not going to happen. I’m curious about Deck now. I want to know what job he used to perform for Logan. I want to know why he stopped speaking. I want to know if it’s an emotional block or if it’s an intentional choice.

But I still don’t like him, and I don’t trust him. I’m definitely not going to cling to his shirttails no matter how scared I get.

“Grab any of your stuff you want. We’re heading out in five minutes.” Logan speaks the last sentence loudly, evidently as a warning to the whole group.

I duck into my hiding spot and put my clothes in my bag with the remaining cans of food and the least worn blanket and towel. Then I straighten up, jerking in surprise when I discover Deck is standing right behind me.

“Why are you hovering like that?” I snap before I remember I really need to start playing nice if I’m going to make a place for myself in this group.

Deck isn’t scowling now, but his expression is utterlysober beneath his beard. He nods toward Logan, who is standing next to the front Jeep and having a discussion with Burgundy and the man I assume is her brother.

“You’ve got to be kidding,” I mumble, instinctively understanding the small gesture as clearly as if he spoke words. “Logan told you to watch out for me, didn’t he?”

Deck inclines his head in a nod. He’s got brown eyes—lighter than the brown eyes I normally see.

“I don’t need watching out for. I can take care of myself.”

He shrugs, his body and his expression completely unmoving.

I let out a sigh that comes out almost as a groan. “Fine. You do what you have to do. But give me a little space, okay? I don’t like being crowded.”

He takes one small step backward. Then gives me a speaking look, cocking his head just slightly.

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