I start to bust up laughing until I note the seriousness in his expression. Well, seriousness might be a stretch. More like expressionless, like a blank canvas.

“A zombie?” I repeat, staring at him blankly. Then it clicks. “Oh, I get it. You’re tripping on something.”

His brows knit. “No, I’m not.”

“Yeah, you are.” I pat his arm. “It’s okay. My grandma goes on bad trips all the time. She even thought she was a fairy once. It took me two hours to convince her that she needed to stop trying to spit fairy dust in my face which, FYI, was just spit. Eventually, the drugs faded out of her system and she was fine.”

He stares at his shoulder where I patted him then lifts his gaze to mine. “I’m not high. I’m being serious. I’m a zombie, and I’m here to save you.”

Great. This is worse than I thought. Either this guy is high as a motherfucker or he’s a complete nutjob.

“Thanks for the offer,” I say, backing away from him, “but I promise you, I don’t need saving.”

“Yes, you do.” He matches my step, eyeing me over with a strange look in his eyes. “You’re cursed. And soon that curse will be collected.”

I fleetingly pause. Larry said something similar before. Am I cursed? Then I shake my head. Seriously, Ava, you think you’re cursed because your grandma’s perverted boyfriend and a guy who thinks he’s a zombie said you were?

Yeah, I definitely think I got high on secondhand smoke.

“Look, thanks for the offer to help me,” I tell Zombie Guy, “but I promise you, I’ll be okay. Just as long as you take off. I got some business to attend to, and if you’re around and I get caught, you’ll probably get your ass kicked. Or worse. And I’d rather that not happen.”

A crease forms between his brows. “You’re worried I’ll get hurt?”

“Yes, so please, just get the hell out of here.” I try to shoo him away.

His feet remain planted to the asphalt, the crease between his brows deepening. “You’re trying to help me?”

I let out a frustrated groan. “I am, but if you keep doing this weird, shocked, no-one-could-possibly-want-to-help-me thing, I’m going to bail out and let you fend for yourself.” I put my hands on my hips as he continues to stare at me like a confused puppy. “Seriously, dude, what is with the lost, confused puppy act?”

“I’m not sure what you mean?”

I roll my eyes. “Sure you don’t. I bet that’s what you tell every girl who falls for the look, right?”

He shakes his head, sending strands of hair into his freakishly gorgeous eyes. “No, there are no girls who fall for the look.”

“Okay, well, then guys.”

“No guys, either.”

I grimace, growing more on edge. “You know what, it doesn’t really matter, just as long as you leave. Now.” I begin to push him in the direction of the road, but freeze when I hear someone coming down the alleyway. “Shit.” Panicking, I snag Zombie Guy’s sleeve and tug him with me as I duck behind the dumpster.

“What are you doing?” Zombie Guy asks as I crouch down and pull him with me.

I cover his mouth with my hand. “Shhh … Just be quiet for a minute, okay?”

Surprisingly, he nods.

Well, he may be crazy, but at least he listens.

I hold my breath as footsteps approach the other side of the dumpster. My heart is pounding in my chest, and I still have my hand over Zombie Guy’s mouth. I can’t feel the warmth of his breath, which is strange. What makes the situation even more bizarre is when he places a kiss on my palm.

My gaze snaps toward him, and I blast him with a what the hell look.

His lips move against my palm as he whispers, “You smell good.”

I put my finger to my lips and scowl at him, indicating for him to shut the hell up. Although, deep down, my heart does a stupid little flutter from his compliment.

Doesn’t matter. It’s not like I’m going to hook up with him or anything. I mean, sure the guy is hot, but he also thinks he’s a zombie. Plus, I don’t do hookups or dating or kissing or anything else like that. And I won’t. I promised myself a long time ago that I wouldn’t get involved with anyone. And I’m sticking to my promise no matter what. Besides, hating to be touched by people kind of complicates getting close to anyone.

I try my best to ignore Zombie Guy, lowering my hand from his mouth. Then I listen for signs that whoever entered the alleyway is still there. It’s hard to concentrate with Zombie Guy staring at me.

He watches me intently before inching closer and tilting his head to the side. Then he reaches for me and plays with the strands of my long brown hair for a bit. I want to tell him to back the hell off, but I’m too nervous to speak. My nerves only skyrocket when he dips his head toward me and licks a slow path up my neck.

“You taste good, too,” he whispers, then licks me again.

What the shit is happening? And why am I not stopping it? Not only am I not stopping it, but I shudder. Actually freakin’ shudder.

By the time he moves away, my heart is a clusterfuck of a wreck inside my chest.

“You’re going to be okay,” Zombie Guy says to me, trailing his finger across my hairline. “I won’t let anyone do anything to you. You’re too nice.”

“No, I’m not,” I whisper. “Trust me.”

“But you are.” He skims his finger along my jawline, tracking the movement with his gaze, seeming mesmerized. “I don’t care what Leader says. We don’t need another one of me running around. I’m going to save you from this.”

My lips part to ask him what he means, when the dumpster goes sailing across the alleyway and crashes into the building. Garbage flies everywhere, causing the air to reek of spoiled milk and rotten eggs.

I spring to my feet, preparing to run like hell. I pull Zombie Guy up with me, not wanting to leave him behind. Sure, the guy is straight-up crazy, in a sweet way, sort of, but he doesn’t deserve to get into trouble for something I was about to do.

However, what I see standing in the center of the alleyway makes me slam to a halt.

It isn’t the drug dealer. It’s …

I blink. “Mom?”