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And that was a possibility I couldn’t deny.
CHAPTER FIVE
TULLY
Jeremiah Overton was in-fucking-sane.
He went about fillin’ in his reports and doing statistics and numbers while I tried to get my head around what he’d just said.
He wanted to study the effects of lightning strikes on a human body, and when I’d questioned if he intended to use himself as a test bunny, he hadn’t denied it.
The more I thought about it, the more it bothered me. “Isn’t that morbid curiosity?” I asked. “Wanting to know what it does to the human body?”
“It’s a medical science. Keraunomedicine is the medical study of lightning casualties.” He shrugged.
“So why didn’t you become the other kind of doctor and do that kera-nom-whatever you called it medicine?”
“Because I’d have to understand lightning first. Which is why I do this.” He made a face, then gave me another well-practiced spiel. “To best predict lightning strikes and possibly save lives, first we have to understand it, right?”
Hmm. “True.”
I guess.
“Why do you love storms so much?” he asked, turning the conversation on me as if it was proving that I, too, was morbidly curious.
“I told ya before. I love the ferocity of them, being completely at the mercy of nature. It’s terrifying and magnificent. And it’s one helluva adrenaline rush.”
He raised one eyebrow as if that did prove his point, and I dunno... maybe it did.
“Couldn’t you just go skydiving for that thrill?” he countered.
“I could.” I thought about it for a while. “And being out here reminds me of my childhood, hangin’ out with my dad, doing wild-boy shit. That’s what my mum used to call it.”
He frowned then and paused with his mouth open, as if he was trying to find the right words. But in the end, he decided on saying nothing at all.
Maybe he wasn’t sure how to ask such personal questions.
“My mum still calls it wild-boy shit,” I added, hoping it would make it easier for him. “Every year when I come out here, she shakes her head at me.”
He packed up some of his gear, clearing away half the table, and he stayed silent so long I wondered if he’d heard me at all. But then he asked, “Do you have any brothers and sisters?”
“I’m the youngest of four. Two brothers, Rowan and Ellis. They’re ten and four years older than me. And my sister, Zoe. She’s seven years older than me. I’m closest with Ellis. The oldest two got lumped with the parental expectations to take over the family business,” I said with a laugh. “Just kidding. We all work for the family company. But I’m the youngest, the most spoilt, and clearly the favourite. Also the best looking, and the funniest.”
He smirked, thankfully understanding that I was joking. “And the most modest, I see.”
I grinned at him. “Modesty is not a family trait, sorry. What about your family? Are you all geniuses? Or did you get all the brainsandlooks in your family too?”
His smile faltered and he turned back to his gear, a small black box in his hand seemingly forgotten. “It’s just been me and my dad since I can remember. He... he, uh...” he put the box back in the crate. “He doesn’t understand why I do what I do. He says if I’m so smart, I should have become a ‘real’ doctor.” He used air quotes and then rolled his eyes. “God, could you imagine? One, I hate blood. And two, I don’t like people. Why on earth would I want to help them?”
That made me laugh. I was glad his sullen mood didn’t last long.
“So youdowork?” he asked. “You’re not just some lucky guy who doesn’t have to work who gets to be a full-time storm chaser?”
I snorted out a laugh. “I wish. Yeah, I work. I do have flexibility. Like I said, it’s the family business, so I can take time when I want. As long as I’ve earned it. I’m not an actual freeloader. I tried to be, but they wouldn’t let me.”
That earned me half a smile. “What is the family business?”
“Shipping. Imports, exports.”
