Supernormal Read Free Page A

customers, correct?  Who says customer interaction is a required part of your job?  Did Ian specifically request that you to work the floor?”
    Wary, Ashley shook her head.
    “Perhaps you could work off your tab in the back room, or after hours.  Stocking, inventory, that sort of thing.”
    Ashley was quiet for a long moment.  “You…think he would go for that?”
    “It never hurts to ask,” the doc replied, and then offered, “I could talk to Ian, if you like.”
    “I thought—you weren’t supposed to interfere,” Ashley said awkwardly.  “Because of your relationship.”
    Dr. MacNamara gave her a rare smile.  “Sisters are supposed to interfere.  Now, if you came in with a problem regarding Ian that you wanted to work out, I would have to recommend you to another psychiatrist.  However, I don’t think this falls under that purview.
    “Besides,” the doc continued, “there could be an argument made that taking on some responsibility might be good for you.  I would need to speak to Mr. Brody, however.”
    Ashley braced herself for the requisite, How would you feel about that? , but the doc glanced at the clock and snapped her folder closed.  Ashley felt herself sag like a puppet cut from its strings.  “That’s our time.”
    On cue, the phone rang.  The doc answered, eyeing down Ashley.  “Diana MacNamara.  Could you—”
    The tinny voice on the other line cut her off.  “Please hold for Dr. Proom.”
    “—of course.”  She lowered the phone and gave Ashley a pointed look.  “Get out.”
     
    As soon as Ashley was free, she ran. Her legs stretching, eating up the distance.  She passed from pavement to the beach in a blink, and sand flew up under her feet.
    The sand was too easy, so she headed for the water, cutting in deep before starting on laps.  The resistance made her fight for every stride.  But only at first.  Only until she got her momentum, and then she was flying, wind snapping through her hair, until there wasn’t water or trees or sand but just colors blurring past.
    Satisfaction purred through her as she cut through the water, satisfaction at what she could do, that in this moment, for the moment, she didn’t have to hold back.  She didn’t need that small part of her constantly watching everything she did.  She could shut her brain off, and just feel the sun on her face, the water splashing her skin.
    She shouldn’t enjoy it, she knew.  It wasn’t right.  You weren’t allowed to hate someone for hacking you apart, playing Mr. Potato Head, and then enjoy the results.  And she needed to hate him.  It was the only thing she had left.
    Ashley ran her muscles to rubber, until her legs were shaking so bad she could barely stand and she could feel the water push back again.  At some point the sun had started to set.  The beach was mostly empty, and the air had gone cool.  Her stomach clenched.  She ran ‘til she got tired.  She usually got tired faster than this.  She was getting stronger.
    Proom would be so happy.
    Stop it .  Ashley picked her way up the beach.  She was due back home—at Brody’s—she was due back at Brody’s house by dark.  But first she had to stop by Level Up; Ian stuck around the store late when he knew she was heading over, and she owed him twenty for the Red Son incident.
    She scraped the sand off her legs the best she could and, still sticky with salt water, headed over to Ian’s.
    Ashley waited in the alley until she smelled a lull, heard only him moving around.  As she waited, she concentrated on being still.  Silent.  On making her breathing slow and steady, on willing her pulse to drop, wondering if she could catch him off guard this time.  When she heard him move to the small office at the back, Ashley slipped in the front door.
    “‘Sup, Ash!”
    She should really just give up.  The door hadn’t even swung shut.  She caught it before it slammed and flipped the Open sign to Closed.  “Hey, Ian.”  She laid