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It was a lump of black melted goo.
“Ah,” he said, tossing it onto the grass below. “Don’t touch it. It’s still kinda hot.”
I went to inspect it and, yeah, it was almost unrecognisable.
Tully climbed down, dusting his hands off as he came to stand beside me. “RIP that thing,” he said. “Was that what the lightning hit? Or did it just get fried for being so close to the rod?”
I used the broken tripod to turn the melted booster over on the grass. “Hard to tell. But just fried from being so close, I’d think. If it was a direct hit, it’d be blown to smithereens.”
He took the tripod, and when he held it up, it bent in the middle. “Jeez, this is shot too.”
I nodded, unable to hide my disappointment. “Yeah.”
He looked at me, studying my face for a few seconds. “You know what I think? I think this gear is replaceable.” He poked me in the chest. “You, are not.”
I half shrugged. I knew what he said was true, but damn...
“I know,” I whispered. “It’s just... it’s not replaceable. Not for me anyway.”
I unfastened the data box and threw the broken tripod by the door, with all the other scrap material, and went inside. I closed my laptop—there was no point in staring at a black screen. And I watched Tully on the camera screen. He was standing right where I’d left him outside. He ran his hand through his hair and went toward the door. He disappeared off the screen as he walked inside.
I threw myself on the bed with a sigh and slung my arm over my eyes.
A few moments later, Tully knelt over me and peeled my arm away. “Hey,” he said. “Talk to me.”
I was being petulant. I knew I was. But still... I couldn’t help the way I felt.
“My gear isn’t replaceable because I have no money, and now that I have no gear, I can’t do anything. I’m leaving in two days and now I have to go back without my instruments, without any data,” I gestured to the table, “because it’s probably all fried, and it just feels like a failure. The way they all expected me to fail. As if I’m proving those arseholes right. And all I wanted was to go back and prove to them I was worthy. Now I don’t want to go back at all.”
Well, that came out a lot easier than I expected. I surprised myself by how easy it was to tell him this. How easy it was to talk to him.
I tried to pull my arm free so I could cover my face, cover my shame, but he tightened his grip and pinned me to the bed. His eyes bored into mine. “Hey. You listen to me. You’re not a failure. You lived through two electrical storms in two days. Closer to lightning than we had any right to be. I bet those pen-pushin’ nerds you work with ain’t ever been that close to any storm in their miserable lives. You got good data. Data you can analyse for months. Data that will give you new information, new findings. And then those arseholes will know just how good you are.” He straddled me, sitting his full weight on me, and he let go of my arms. “Now about your gear, don’t worry about that. I can get you new stuff.”
“You don’t have to do—”
“Yeah, I do. Because I’m pretty sure the way I MacGyvered your booster thing is what blew it out.” He shrugged. “So it’s technically my fault.”
“No you didn’t. You used no metal. Just wood and zip ties.”
He leaned down and kissed me. “Shh. It was my fault.”
“Tully—”
He pinned my hands above my head this time. “I said shh,” he said with a sultry smile. “All your equipment is off, it’s raining outside. There is nothing for me to do... except you.”
I would have objected—I fully intended to object—but he ground down on me, rubbing himself, and my hips rolled involuntarily. Smirking, he put his knees between my legs and drove my legs apart.
I gasped, and my watch started beeping like crazy...
He laughed and I rolled my eyes, but then he kissed me, deep and filthy, until nothing else existed. No money problems, no work problems, no almost-dying twice in twenty-four hours, no leaving this place, and not my stupid watch that only stopped beeping when Tully pulled it off my wrist.
Nothing but him and the obscenely good things he did to my body.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
TULLY
Somethin’was different with Jeremiah after that last storm. I understood about his gear and not havin’ the money to replace it. And I understood that he needed to prove to his jerk colleagues back in Melbourne that he was more than a guy just obsessed with lightning.
