White Trash Zombie Gone Wild (White Trash Zombie 5)

He jerked away. “It’s not like that. This med school thing blindsided him, that’s all. He yells a lot, but he’s never hit me before.”

“But he made sure you committed yourself to his vision of what your life should be.” I shoved a hand through my hair, frustrated and aching for Nick. Bear was brawny and a good foot taller than Nick. Not to mention, charismatic and intimidating as hell. I had little doubt Nick grew up walking a line of fear and respect with him. “Look, I get it,” I said. “He’s your dad. And now he’s pissed off because, god forbid, you dared to have a speck of free will.”

“You don’t understand what—”

“Nick. I swear to God, I’ve been there, on the receiving end of verbal and physical abuse.” I straightened and gathered my thoughts, gentled my voice. “I get that it’s easier to stay silent and take it. When you’ve been beaten down so hard for so long, the last thing you want to do is push back and make it worse.”

He shot to his feet and turned away, sending his chair skittering into the wall with a bang.

I moved in and put my hand on his shoulder, felt the stress vibrating through him. “The problem with keeping your mouth shut is that you die by inches,” I said softly, willing my words to reach the core of him. “Your own hopes and dreams keep slipping farther away, until one day you realize you never got the chance to live the life you wanted.”

“Angel.” His voice shook as if every pent up emotion wanted to spew out all at once. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Yeah, you do. But the thought of doing it is terrifying.” I gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Do you want to live your own life? Or die crushed beneath someone else’s dream? You’re in control of that, whether you like it or not.”

He went still beneath my hand for several seconds before turning to face me. “I want to stay here.” He forced a crooked smile. “Someone needs to keep your butt in line.”

“Ain’t that the truth!” I grinned then poked him in the sternum. “So don’t you dare let your dad bully you.” I poked him again. “You don’t have to take that crap.” I waggled my finger to ready for a third poke.

Whisper-faint amusement touched his eyes as he swatted my hand. “Yeah, I don’t have to put up with bullies.” He let out a long sigh, but looked as if he’d dropped a billion pounds of burden. “I’m such a chickenshit. I couldn’t even tell him to keep his stupid tranquilizer gun and shove it up his ass.”

Relief washed through me. A tranq gun. From his dad. “First off, you’re not a chickenshit. Standing up to a parent is the hardest thing ever. Second off, why the heck did he give you a tranquilizer gun? Bears? Cougars? Raging nutria?”

Nick rolled his eyes. “Don’t ask. You’ll be sorry.”

“Aw, c’mon. Spill.” I lifted my poking finger in mock threat.

He snorted, shook his head. “Fine. You asked for it. My dad gave it to me so I could defend myself against . . . zombies.”

“Zombies?” The word squeaked out.

“Hand to god. Toldya you’d be sorry.” A smile lifted his mouth. “It’s completely insane. But, just for absurdity’s sake, why would anyone think a tranquilizer would work faster on a zombie than a regular gun? Or a baseball bat?”

“A tranq for zombies.” I managed a laugh and hoped it didn’t sound strangled. “Oh, man. That’s crazypants. Where’d he come up with a wild idea like that?”

Nick threw his hands in the air. “He must’ve been talking to some seriously whackdoodle people over the weekend. He’s never bought into the woowoo crap before.”

Whackdoodle or not, who had given Bear the idea of a tranq gun? Regular tranquilizer drugs didn’t do shit to zombies unless it was enough to stop ten elephants, but Saberton had a special formula that took zombies down in seconds. Could it have been one of Andrew’s security people? Or Dante Rosario? He’d sure been palsy-walsy with Bear in the gun shop on Friday. I needed to find a way to check the darts in Nick’s tranq gun. If they were zombie-grade, that put an ugly spin on everything.

“Well, if Bigfoot attacks, you’re set,” I said then winced as I caught sight of the clock. “Crap. I’m heading out to the Zombie Fest and need to get going before I get blocked in by the parade.”

Nick grinned. “By the way, nice makeup. How’d you get the skin tone so smoo—”

“I really gotta run! We’ll chat later. Promise you’ll call me if you need anything?”

“Yeah. Sure.” He paused and met my eyes. “I’m going to do it. Tomorrow, I’ll have it out with Bear.”

“I’m behind you all the way. We’ll celebrate after Mardi Gras.” I gave him a sly look. “I’ll even let you help me study for midterms.”

Nick smiled, genuine and relaxed, then swept in and hugged me.

I hugged him right back then rested my head on his shoulder as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Thank god the V12 pre-rot didn’t come with Eau de Decay. “You’re my best friend. You know that, right?”

“I’m not so sure,” he said, voice light with humor. “Remember the Nick the Prick doodle you did last month?”

“Which one? I mean, god, there’ve been so many.”

He laughed and released me, then caught my hands in his. “That does it. I’m truly offended.”