Supernormal Read Free Page B

two crumpled tens on the counter.
    He jogged out of the back, a glossy Hush in his hand.  “Number Two, just for you.  I was thinking Marvels next, but it’s best if you have, like, a stronger background in the Marvel-verse and I know you’re a DC gi—the hell is this?” he demanded, seeing the money.
    “ Red Son .”
    “Brody said no, huh?”
    “He thought it wouldn’t be a good idea.”  It sounded almost normal, considering how tight her throat was.
    “And what about Dr. Doom?”
    “You know, I don’t have to tell her everything,” Ashley said.  Her legs were trembling under the fatigue of trying to hold up her weight.  She desperately wanted to sit.  And she found she still had the strength to stand.
    “You should.  She’s your therapist.”  And she hadn’t been here yet.  The doc’s scent—clean and refined, with hints of the lavender water she used as perfume—was a day old.  It lingered by the counter, and in the back room.  “Hey, it’s cool.  No big deal, right?”  Ian quickly rang Ashley up.  “Offer’s still open if you change your mind.”
    It wasn’t her mind, but she felt a deep stab of gratitude that he pretended it was.  “It’s probably a stupid idea.”
    “Nah, that’s bull.  All my ideas are great ideas.”
    Ashley took Hush , forced herself to say, “We’d have to get permission anyway.  Brody’s already said no, and…”  And she was pretty sure they would, too.  They’d been nervous enough sending her here in the first place.  Besides, if she was well enough for work, they probably had a lot that they could suggest for her.
    Ian moved from around the counter, started shelving.  “Fuck ‘em.  Don’t tell him.”
    He’d find out.  Brody found out everything.
    Ian nodded at a pile of mail on the counter.  “He sent another offer, you know.  Your buddy Proom.”
    “He’s not my buddy.  What—”  She stopped herself, but Ian answered anyway.
    “Upped it from disgusting to obscene.  But Rhoda said her cousin down at city hall fielded a few calls from someone sniffing around about buying up property in Sugar Beach.  Including…”  He rapped a knuckle on the wall.
    “And?”
    Ian turned back to her, grinning.  “Please.  As if I’d give up the chance to have you shred all my stock.  Talk to your not-friend recently?”
    It took a second for Ashley to pull back, into herself.  “I don’t talk to him.”  It was one of Brody’s rules, one that she was actually grateful for.  “Ask Brody,” she added.  Because she couldn’t help it.  Because she was an idiot.
    “Will do.  Don’t forget about the sign.”
     
    Ashley was reading in her room when Meg’s voice exploded in her ears.  She pushed back a little too hard, tipping her chair over, and crashed into the floor.  There was a moment of blind panic as she landed and her legs tangled.  She scrambled, kicking; her foot caught the chair and it flew across the room and crashed loudly into her desk.  Where the fuck were her earplugs—nightstand?  bookcase?—dammit, when was the last time she cleaned?  She wished Brody would just tell her when people were going to stop by.  Her ears had that stinging, echo-y thing going.  It’d clear in a minute but, still—she should’ve known better than to take her earplugs out early, with Meg popping over unannounced half the damn time—couldn’t she just pick up the goddamn phone, how hard could that—
    “—doing with her?”
    Ashley stopped.  Froze.
    Brody’s voice rumbled through the floorboards.  “She says better.  She’s started talking to her at least.  But you know Ash.”
    “So you’d recommend her.”
    “Ain’t like there’s anybody else, Meggie,” Brody said.
    “And Ashley?  Is she getting better?”
    “Not really a choice there.”
    Meg sighed.  Ashley tried to focus on the anger she felt when Meg sighed like that.  Not the pain.  Not the fear.  “There’s always a choice, just not a