Page 141 of The Storm Boys Series Collection

“I gotta dry my hair,” he called out. “No fallin’ asleep without me.”

I laughed, and finding my phone, I plugged it in to charge before I slid under the covers. The room was dark, the only light coming from the open bathroom door. Tully singing over the sound of the hairdryer was the only sound.

What a night.

What an admission.

He loved me.

And what he’d just said.

Could I have sex without a condom? Was that something I’d be comfortable doing?

I was in a relationship, I countered with myself. And I trusted Tully implicitly. So maybe it was something we could consider...

I certainly wouldn’t mind trying. Seeing how it would feel to be inside him bare. To come, to give him my seed, to make him mine in that way...

Sweet Jesus.

I needed tonotthink about that. My balls already liked the idea.

I snatched up my phone, needing the distraction, and of course my home screen had news updates. And there, in a small thumbnail image, was Tully in his work shirt, pointing his finger at a reporter, mid-rant.

He looked incredibly mad.

I’d seen the whole thing unfold on the security cameras along with Doreen, but I hadn’t heard what he’d said.

Did I even want to know?

Then I read the subheading.

Storm brewing at the weather station.

Good lord.

Who wrote that drivel?

I clicked on it, expecting to read the article, but the video clip auto-played.

“You wanna be careful,” a reporter said.

Tully spun around and pointed his finger at him. He was seething mad, his jaw clenched and that vein down the side of his neck popped out. “And you might wanna watch yourbeeeepmouth.”

Oh boy.

He really said that?

“You all come here for what?” he asked. “This office is trying to do a job, obtaining information that will save lives, and you’re all here forbeeeeepwhat? You wanna broadcast footage of a mother dying in front of her kid, for ratings, then expect him to, what? Come out for an interview?” He pointed his finger at all of them. “Every single one of you canbeep beep beep. You want news? Go back to your offices and wait for official bulletin releases. Or do what they suggested yesterday and leave Darwin. Do us all a favour and just keepbeeeepdriving.”

Oh my god.

He really saidall that?

He defended me. He defended my work and told them how awful they were for showing that dreadful clip of my mother...

And then Doreen entered the screen. She was swinging her bat, her shirt was pixelated—not surprisingly—and almost every word she said wasbeeeeepedout.

Also not surprising.

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