“Stay here,” Brody said.
“Brody—” Ashley began, but he squeezed her shoulder and smiled at her, and then crossed the street.
“You’re parked on private property,” Brody told them. “I’m going to ask you to move. Once.”
“We’re simply here to thank you,” Director Cole said, “and Miss Garrett, for a job well done. We would like to speak to her, if she is amenable. Mr. Scott, as well, when he feels up to it.”
“We don’t need your thanks,” Brody cut him off. But he glanced at her. She understood this one, too. Her choice.
“They want to talk to us,” she told Cam.
“Who are they?” he asked.
The director reached into his pocket and removed a leather wallet, which he flipped open to reveal a badge and a federal ID. “Gregory Cole. This is Bennet Phillips.”
“They hired Proom,” Ashley told Cam. “And they helped us get you back.”
“We only want a few moments of your time,” Director Cole said.
Ashley glanced at Cam. His face was pale and drawn, and there were circles under his eyes. She wasn’t sure if he took her hand, or she took his, but he squeezed her fingers.
The men crossed over to them. Director Cole held out his hand to her, and then Cam, and they shook cautiously. “Very nice to meet you, Mr. Scott. Miss Garrett. Agent Phillips and I have come to extend our sincere apologies. We deeply regret anything you may have suffered while under the care of Zachary Proom,” Director Cole began. “Though, of course, we know that no apology can be sufficient. We can only say that we were deceived by Dr. Proom, both as to the extent of his research and the character of the man.”
“We never thought he would kidnap children,” Agent Phillips said, and then quickly looked away.
“You worked with him,” Ashley said.
“We took an interest in his work,” Director Cole said. “We won’t deny that there is hope to put some of his research to a better use—which Agent Phillips is, himself, a testament to. But we were not aware of the manner in which he was furthering his research. Nor would we have condoned it if we had.”
“Well, now you do know,” Cam said. “What are you going to do about it?”
“We will be…discussing matters with Dr. Proom, now that we have him in custody. It seems we were not clear enough last time. However, that is not why we’re here,” Director Cole said. “We’d like to help.”
Ashley wanted to say we can help ourselves. But she knew that wasn’t true. Not with all of them. Not with Liz. “Help Liz. Brody knows where Proom’s doctors are, the ones who survived. Get them to undo whatever it is they did to her. Help that way.”
“If that’s what Miss Bell wants, then, yes, we will.” Director Cole made to head to his car and then turned back. “We also wanted to congratulate Miss Garrett on a very impressive first effort.”
“‘First,’” Brody echoed. The word was an iceberg.
Agent Phillips glanced at him, but Director Cole continued, “We would like to be in touch.”
“If I say no?” Ashley replied.
“It would be your choice.”
Her choice. Part of her wanted to laugh. “I’m not leaving.”
“You’re a legal adult, Miss Garrett. Where you live is your choice, as well. We would only ask you to consider helping us, from time to time. Would you think about it?”
Ashley took a long, slow breath. Felt the sun on her skin, and the breeze off the ocean, smelled the salt water. Cam’s hand in hers. “I think I’m going to go for a walk.” She glanced at Cam. “Not far, I promise.”
Cam smiled. “I’d like that.”
“Back by dinner,” Brody told her.
“We will. Nice to meet you, Mr. Phillips. Director.”
“Enjoy your walk,” Cole replied. “Let us know if you think any more on the offer.”
They didn’t walk very far, or very fast. Cam was still getting his strength back. But they walked until they wanted to sit, then sat until they wanted to walk again. At the moment they were sitting, the dunes at their back. Cam had raised an eyebrow when she held out a hand as he tried to sit, but accepted the help. “I’m fine,” he’d said.
“I know.”
“You’re worrying.”
“Yeah,” she’d said. “You’ll tell me if you get tired. If we need to head home.”
Cam hesitated. She saw him take in the sandy stretch of beach, the endless blue-grey of the ocean, and the way the sunlight gleamed along the waves. His expression somewhere between fear and hope. “I am home,” he told her.
His voice was quiet, but certain, and she’d slipped her arm through his as he leaned into her.
They sat, watching the sky turn orange, then pink. The air turned cool, but she could feel the warmth from his skin.
She looked at her scars, the ones Proom had given her, and the ones she had gotten a year ago. It was odd. In the waning light her scars looked…not faded, but fading. Maybe. Maybe she was just imagining it. But they weren’t the same as when she first got here; they’d been fresh and pink then, and the ones from Jase still red and raw and aching. The ache was still there, but it had settled in, like her scars. It was an ache she thought she could carry.
Maybe they would keep fading, until it got so she could hardly see them. She would always know they were there, but maybe, Ashley thought, she would get to the point where she was okay with that.
“I never finished high school.”
She was surprised that it came out. Surprised that her voice didn’t shake more.
“I mean, I went—before—and there were tutors at the program, but I’ve never been a really good student.” Ashley let out a weak laugh. “I’m not really sure what I’m supposed to do.”
“You’re supposed to do what you want,” Cam said. He smiled at her and she was a little shaken by what she saw there. “I’ll help. If you want.”
Yes. She wanted. So much that she wasn’t sure she could say it. She was afraid it would shatter her. “Cam, I—” It was there. She knew it. She could feel it pressing against her chest like a physical pain. And she wasn’t sure if it was better or worse that it came out as, “I am so glad you’re okay.”
Cam looked at her for a long moment. “I’m glad you’re okay, too, Ashley.”
She couldn’t keep looking at him. It was too much. So she looked down at their hands, instead. They were still holding hands. She hadn’t even thought about it, it just was. She’d always thought it was such a small, silly thing to do, compared to—she felt the heat rush up her neck—all of the other things people could do. But it didn’t feel silly, or small. His palm was sandy and steady and warm, and it felt like the anchor on a boat, so it wouldn’t drift loose.
Don’t let go, she thought. Don’t ever let go.
She felt Cam watching her. “What?”
He didn’t answer for a long moment. “At the hospital. I dreamt…I saw us here. Together.”
The last came out oddly tense, enough that Ashley said, “Together?”
“Yes,” Cam said. She felt the shaky tendrils of heat curl out from her stomach. “We were—” He stopped.
He was rubbing his thumb along the back of her knuckles. Ashley felt the fine scratch of sandpaper against her skin. It was hard to think beyond that one point of contact.
“It was a little blurry. I don’t see myself—I didn’t, before—and dreams can tangle things. I wasn’t sure if it was real, or if it was just…hoping,” Cam finished. He cleared his throat awkwardly.
She heard—Ashley wasn’t sure what she heard in his voice. But she hoped and, hearing it, was able to look up. How long had he been looking at her like that? A while now, she realized, and she’d been too afraid to recognize it.
“I’m sorry,” he said quickly. “I’m not sure what…I’m not good at this, I don’t have a lot of experience…” He cleared his throat again, and Ashley realized that she had been staring at him, not saying anything. Not doing anything.
&nb
sp; She felt her heart fluttering like a humming bird trapped in her chest. She was still afraid, but so was he. She could see that. And seeing it made it easier to be brave.
Ashley shifted, turning to him, the sand spilling around her knees as she closed the distance between them. Brave, she told herself, and hooked a leg over his lap to straddle him. “Was it like this?”
He nodded, his face turned up to her, his blue eyes watching and so serious. She could grow to love the way he looked at her.
“Show me,” she said.
Slowly, still watching her, he took her right hand and put it on his shoulder. Then he took her left hand, running his thumb along her palm, closing his eyes as he pressed it to his cheek. “And you?” When he hesitated she brushed her thumb over his cheek. “Show me how you touched me, Cam.”
His hands settled on her legs, her hips. He swallowed. “We’re friends.”
She nodded, feeling the fading warmth of the setting sun along her back. It was nowhere near as warm as his hands. “Yes.”
“That’s important to me. I don’t want to—if I ruined this—” Cam stopped as she kissed him, soft and easy. It surprised her a little, how easy it was. There should have been a question there. Some uncertainty. But his lips softened, moved against hers, his hands running up her sides, fisting in her shirt, and there was only an answer.
Ashley eased back just a bit. So that he could see her. She ran her thumb over his bottom lip. “Nothing could ruin you for me.”
His free hand wound through her hair, wrapped around the back of her neck, pulling her closer, and it wasn’t so soft this time. His arms were around her, his fingernails biting into her skin, and it was Cam, and he was here and safe and the taste of him… For so long she had wanted to—she had wanted.
Sometime later, they managed to remember that Meg and Brody were waiting for them. Likely had been waiting for them for some time.
“We—we should—” Cam let out a hard breath.
Ashley nodded vaguely, but she didn’t mean it. If they went back, then the day would be over. She didn’t want tomorrow. She didn’t even want tonight. She wasn’t done with this moment yet. “Not yet.”
Cam grinned, natural and easy, and she felt her smile rising in return up from underneath the thrill and need and the sheer weight of feeling. “Not yet,” he said, and the distance closed between them as his fingers wound through hers to pull her back to him.
Acknowledgements
To Antonia Kogan and the Keller family, my official team of teenage beta readers:
To Jennifer Rothwell, Diana Lampe Siwek, and Stephanie Burgis, for their insight, advice, and willingness to give this a second, and third, and fourth read:
To Sean and Jenn Rothwell, for the wonderful cover and their patience through the whole long process:
To Lauren Galit, cheerleader, agent, rock, and friend:
And always, to Mom and Dad, for putting up with me through all of this:
There will be no way to say it enough, but we can start with — Thank you.
Table of Contents
Ch 1
Ch 2
Ch 3
Ch 4
Ch 5
Ch 6
Ch 7
Ch 8
Ch 9
Ch 10
Ch 11
Ch 12
Ch 13
Ch 14
Ch 15
Ch 16
Ch 17
Ch 18
Ch 19
Ch 20
Ch 21
Ch 22
Ch23
Ch 24
Ch 25
ch26
Ch 27
Ch 28
Ch 29
Ch 30
Ch 31
Supernormal Page 26
