Whirlwind

10. Finley

Chapter ten

Finley

Nerves kick up in my stomach as we get closer to the gas station where the rest of the team is waiting for us under a green sky. With the change in location, our three-hour drive turned into six. The very unglamorous part of storm chasing is that you actually have to chase them, which generally means lots of monotonous driving before you get to the good part.

Thankfully, the tension in the truck eased a bit after we listened to some music and settled in together. But mostly, we have Joey’s chatter to thank for the better atmosphere, and I’ve enjoyed catching up with him. I wouldn’t say we lost touch after we graduated from undergrad together, but our social media DMs had gotten less frequent as we both got busier.

I glance at Ryker from the corner of my eye. I would’ve thought by now he’d have loosened up a bit more. His shoulders have relaxed some, but I’ve spent enough time with him in the last year to know he’s on edge. And I haven’t missed the way his jaw tightens when Joey pops his head through the seats to tell me a joke that makes me laugh.

I definitely didn’t miss his fiery glare directed at my friend when we stopped for a bathroom break and to grab some greasy gas station food. Joey had slung his arm around my shoulders as we walked through the store together. It didn’t mean anything to me—Joey and I long ago established that we were friends. The man is simply touchy-feely .

I happen to know he tends to go for men more than he does women, even if he’s an “equal-opportunity Southern boy” as he told me once. A fact I’m not sure Ryker is aware of—and if he is, he doesn’t show it. By the grumbles and short answers he’s been giving Joey, one would think he dislikes the younger man—yet it doesn’t seem to bother Joey. He just keeps on ribbing him and calling him Tornado Daddy.

I try to keep my face neutral and pull out my phone.

“How’s Mother Nature looking, Fin?” Joey asks.

I study the reflectivity and velocity radar maps on my app before responding. “We haven’t reached severe yet, but we’re heading in that direction.”

Joey leans forward and studies my phone. “Hot dang! Those numbers look beautiful.”

He pauses for a moment before pointing to a cell that’s not far from us.

“Got some clear signs of organization here.” He leans back and claps his hands together. “We’re gonna have a good time.”

“Be prepared to hustle at a moment’s notice,” Ryker says.

I turn my focus from the radar to the profile of my serious professor, who’s normally not so serious. I remember one class where he turned on the movie Twister and passed out popcorn from the vending machine because he thought it would be more fun than learning for the day. That is not the man sitting next to me right now.

Ryker looks at us briefly as he puts his blinker on to turn into the gas station parking lot.

“Stretch your legs, and if either of you need to use the bathroom, now is the time.”

Joey salutes. “You got it, Dad.”

I hold back another laugh but don’t look to see Ryker’s reaction. Not because I don’t want to, but because I’m distracted by the massive armored vehicle and two men that come into view.

“Thor.” Joey takes the words out of my mouth. “Holy shit, ‘tis a thing of beauty.” He smacks Ryker on the arm.

Ryker’s lip twitches into a smile, and his eyes crinkle around the corners. Figures the first real smile I’ve seen from him since yesterday is because of a vehicle.

“Wait till you see it up close,” he says, the giddy inflection I’m used to hearing when he talks about what he loves returning.

Joey lets out a low whistle as Ryker slows near Thor, catching the attention of the other team members. I immediately recognize them from Ryker’s chase videos: Ezra, his communications lead—or “The Pulse” as the internet calls him—and Hawk, whose real name is Diego, his researcher/data analyst and longtime college friend.

Butterflies take flight in my stomach now that I’m finally here. All thoughts of what happened between Ryker and I last night leave my mind, and the thrill of the chase enters my body, lighting me up from the inside to the point I feel like I must be glowing. This feeling is why I signed up for this in the first place—I just have to remember that every time Ryker pisses me off.

“Hawk and Ezra are going to take my truck, and the three of us will be in Thor for the time being,” Ryker says as he comes to a stop. “Get your gear out of the back but leave anything you need for the motel tonight in the truck.”

“Sir, yes, Sir!” Joey salutes and then pops open the door. The sound of him greeting Hawk reaches my ears as I move to exit, but a hand on my thigh stops me. I gasp from the contact, but it’s gone as soon as it was there.

“Sorry,” Ryker says, squeezing his eyes shut. “I didn’t—” He exhales.

“It’s fine.” I unbuckle my seat belt while the lingering burn of his touch sparks on my thigh. “Did you need something?”

He turns his body, eyes intense. “I—”

“Come on, Finley!” Joey yells through the window .

Ryker presses his lips together in dissatisfaction, but I don’t want to linger in the truck. He told me he regretted what happened, and that’s that. It’s showtime, and I need to be on my game.

I turn away from Ryker and open the door, stepping out into the heavy Oklahoma air. There’s a light wind, but the storm is far enough away from this location that there’s no rain or extreme winds.

Joey pulls me into him and walks us to the two smiling men. I shouldn’t be starstruck, but much like the first time I saw Ryker standing in front of the lecture hall earlier this year, my mind goes blank.

“This is Finley,” Joey says, dropping his arm.

Hawk steps forward first, reaching out his hand. Like Ryker, he’s a handsome older man. Rugged and tall, sun-kissed skin, dark-brown hair, a well-trimmed mustache and scruff.

“Nice to meet you, Finley, I’m Diego. But as you may know, you can call me Hawk. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

I put my hand in his and hope I’m not blushing. “All good things, I hope.”

“Ryker would never say anything bad about you.”

If I wasn’t blushing before, I am now. Apparently, my professor likes to talk about me when I’m not around. It’s kind of sweet—but it doesn’t stop me from thinking about our relationship that’s gone south in less than twenty-four hours.

Hawk drops my hand with a smirk and continues, “The only person he ever says anything bad about is Joey.”

“Hey!” Joey whines. “What did I ever do to him?”

The group collectively chuckles like they have some inside joke, and Ezra steps forward. His smile is charismatic, and he’s taller than Diego by a few inches, making him the tallest in the group. His complexion is a light brown, his short, deep auburn-colored hair is curly, and his beard is trimmed close to show off the diamond planes of his face.

“Nice to meet you, Finley. I’m Ezra. ”

“Nice to meet you, too.” I stare into friendly brown eyes that are a similar shade to mine and shake his hand. A second later, he steps back, and Ryker approaches the group with a bag in his hand, moving next to Joey.

“Well, if it isn’t the man with nine lives,” Ezra says, skin wrinkling near the corners of his eyes.

I shove my hands into my jean pockets. I knew his team was aware of what happened last night—Ezra was the one who called first responders to come help us after Ryker went radio silent. We’d spent over an hour recounting what happened and getting checked out by the EMTs before a tow truck came to take away my car. I figured they’d bring it up, and I should be happy we’re getting it out of the way now so we can focus on today’s chase.

“We weren’t even close to dying,” Ryker says confidently, so confidently it makes me almost believe him. But I know he’s lying through his teeth to make his team feel better, putting on the cool and collected “Twister Tamer” persona.

“You’re a lucky bastard, you know that?” Hawk returns.

Ryker waves him off, but then Hawk hugs him, followed by Ezra. Joey and I watch as they pat him on the back and Ryker continues to act as if it’s no big deal. I don’t know whether to be pissed or grateful.

“You’re lucky you found that ditch,” Ezra adds.

“I’m lucky Finley is a good driver and kept a level head.”

Everyone turns to stare at me, and I shift on my feet at the attention. I make eye contact with Ryker as memories of the moment before we ran from my car flood back to me along with everything else that followed. It’s the last thing I want to be remembering right now.

“You both rode that beast out in a ditch? You didn’t tell me that!” Joey says in awe. “Shit!”

I break my gaze from Ryker and shrug. “You didn’t ask.”

The group of men all laugh at my retort, cutting the air of seriousness .

“You’re going to fit right in, Finley,” Ezra says.

The faraway sound of thunder rumbles, and the five of us look out to the building storm cell in the distance. The sky here is green yet calm, but I can see plumes of ominous dark-gray clouds and a wall of rain where the cell is located.

“I’m going to get my gear ready,” Joey says, walking off to the back of the truck.

“How’s everything looking, Hawk?” Ryker asks.

“No tornadoes on the ground yet.” He waves for us to follow him to Thor, where he has a computer open and resting on the top of it. He pulls it off and hands it to Ryker. My professor watches it for a minute then studies the sky.

“Storm is going through the motions,” Ezra adds while doing something on his phone. “I posted the cell’s location before you got here to social media, and we’re already getting responses and good pictures from the area. Looks like we’ve got a mesocyclone initiating to the north.”

Ryker observes the image then looks back at the radar before gesturing for me to study it. “What cluster do you think we should head toward, Ms. Buckley?”

I don’t miss how Hawk and Ezra seem surprised that he’s referred to me formally, but I shake it off, not wanting to make it obvious that something has happened between the two of us—or that I’m feeling nervous. I don’t want them to doubt me or why I’m here.

I look at the radar before I step away from the group and tilt my head up at the sky, closing my eyes. I sense the men’s collective stare on my back, watching me. I inhale a breath, not only to calm myself but also to tap into my gut, something I should’ve done yesterday instead of jumping right into the chase with Ryker like an eager schoolgirl. While I don’t have some magic storm barometer, sometimes if you stop and listen, Mother Nature will give you instructions.

I open my eyes and feel the wind on my face, the air almost muggier and hotter to the north. After another breath, I turn and face the group, confidently putting my shoulders back. “I think we should go to the north.”

A small smile that makes my stomach flip tugs at Ryker’s lips, and both Hawk and Ezra look impressed.

“You think it’s our storm?” Ryker asks.

“I do. We can always punch south to the cluster developing in the south/southeast,” I say, referring to what I saw on the radar.

Ryker nods. “I was thinking the same thing.”

“Come on, Hawk,” Ezra says, taking the computer from Ryker’s hands. “Let’s go get set up in Ryker’s truck. I have a feeling we’ve got minutes before this thing lights up.”

The two men walk off and Ryker watches them go. With the team no longer near us, I awkwardly stand near my professor.

After a moment, he clears his throat. “You’re comfortable navigating and spotting, right?”

I put my hands in my pockets. “Yes, of course.”

He nods. “Great.”

“Great.”

After another awkward pause, Ryker gestures for me to look at the armored vehicle. The thing is massive and not attractive by any means. But it was made for a purpose: to let its occupants be inside a tornado and collect data without getting hurt. It’s like a lab on wheels.

“Did you watch the video I sent you and Joey on how to operate everything?”

“Yes, of course.” Like I hadn’t already seen the YouTube video on it a million times prior. Thor’s been in action for a couple of years now and has successfully intercepted and survived being in the direct path of three tornados.

It can hold up to five people inside in harnessed seats. Thor, which is a heavily modified truck, is covered in a shell of three-quarter-inch steel. On top of that, it has a Kevlar coating, which will allow debris to bounce off the vehicle, making it bulletproof. It also has double windows Ryker specially designed, ensuring that if debris breaks through the first layer, we’ll be protected by the second.

It’s astonishing that something that looks like a massive ugly black shoe has such an immense and important purpose. Not to mention, I’ll be very happy to be inside of this instead of in a ditch.

Ryker’s lip twitches as if he wants to smile. “Just checking.” He walks to the passenger door, and I follow.

“As you watched, everything on this is custom built to the point you’d never know this used to be a truck. When we get to the point of interception, we’ll close the double window system, lower Thor, and drive the spikes into the ground to keep us from moving. We’ll have Joey fly the drone out from the top hatch before we have to close everything up.”

Excitement itches beneath my skin as he talks. I know there’s part of me that should logically be scared about being inside a tornado again after yesterday, but I’m not. Was it terrifying? Yes. Did my car and camera get destroyed? Yes. But I’m alive, and when I decided to start storm chasing, I knew the risks. It’s also why I have good insurance across the board and eat ramen noodles a lot of days to ensure I can afford it.

I’ve given up a lot to be at this point in my life and career, and I’m not going to let what happened yesterday dictate how I feel about doing what I love for a living. We just have to be smarter so it doesn’t happen again. And now that Ryker and I have a whole team, we’ve got more eyes and ears on the ground with us to prevent bad things from happening.

Besides all that, what happened to us was a crazy fluke.

When Ryker had gotten hold of Ezra, he’d explained that the tornado had rapidly intensified as it encountered a strong low-level jet, which injected additional momentum into its rotation. The unstable atmosphere and high moisture content fueled its growth, causing it to gain speed and shift direction quickly, leaving us no time to get out of there. It was a stupid mistake being as close as we were in the first place without a vehicle like this, and while I know Ryker blames himself, it’s my fault, too. I think we were both caught up in more than the chase of the storm.

“Finley?”

My eyes refocus to find Ryker staring at me, face full of concern. “Yeah?”

He studies me, and my skin prickles like it always does when his attention is fully on me. “Feeling okay?”

“Never better.”

It looks like he wants to ask if I’m sure, but he makes the smart choice and doesn’t. “Step back; I’m going to open the doors.”

Sheepishly, I realize he probably already told me to do this once, and I didn’t respond. I step back, and he hits a button while he starts telling me about the lift system. The doors make the sound of decompressing air and pop up like a bird getting ready to fly.

“Fucking bad ass!” Joey chimes in as he joins us. “Going to feel like a superhero riding around in this thing.”

I smile at him as he sidles up next to me while Ryker turns his attention to him. “You will,” he says.

The men grin like fools as Ryker continues to show us all the buttons that were clearly outlined in the video, but it’s good he reviews it. There are a lot of buttons on the front dash and above the windshield. He also shows us how to hook our harnesses and open and close the windows. Then he explains that I’ll be sitting in the passenger seat next to him, and Joey will be in one of the two seats behind us. There’s another single one behind that, so we could fit Hawk and Ezra, but they’ll be in the truck to analyze data and call for help if we need it.

When Ryker’s finished with the inside, he takes us to the back, popping open the trunk to show us the gear that Ezra and Diego must have loaded. There are a couple of cases and a pile of bright orange-and-yellow rockets, and I see another small case that looks like the one I kept my camera in until yesterday .

My stomach aches at its loss. It was expensive, and I don’t know when I’ll be able to replace it. I’ve resigned myself to using my old camera, which will still get the job done but will impact the quality of pictures I can take this weekend.

“Yes! The rockets!” Joey squeals.

He reaches to grab one, and Ryker bats his hand away, picking one up himself and holding it out for us both to see. “I went over these with both of you separately, but beyond our normal data collection, this is what this weekend is all about.”

Ryker hands it to me, and Joey pouts. I run my fingers along the smooth shaft imprinted with the TT logo on it.

“We want to get data from aboveground, in the heart of the tornado. That puppy right there is going to help us do that.”

“It’s really going to punch through the sinking air on the outside of the tornado?” I ask.

“That’s the hope.” Ryker smiles, the love for what he does palpable in this moment. “We’ve been working for eight years to figure out something like this. The specialized sensor that Hawk designed is inside the nose cone and attached to a parachute. The difficult part is that we need to be a quarter mile away from the vortex when we launch and send it right in the inflow notch of the supercell. Once that happens, we can directly intercept with Thor and collect data from the base with the subsonic sensor.”

“If anyone can get it done, it’s you,” Joey says.

“He’s right,” I echo.

Ryker takes the rocket back from me and studies it fondly before handing it to Joey, who smiles excitedly.

“It’s going to be all of us. We’re going to have to work together as a team,” Ryker says.

“Good thing you have the best of the best, then,” Joey replies.

Ryker bounces his gaze between us, and then his eyes drop down to Joey’s chest. His eyes narrow as he huffs. “You were serious? ”

Joey smirks, handing the rocket back to Ryker so he can hold out the front of his shirt. “I’m surprised it took you so long to notice.”

A snort of laughter breaks through my lips when I see what’s vexing my professor. In the time Joey walked away and came back, he removed the button-up he had on and is showing off the custom T-shirt he had made—or maybe he made it himself. It has a collage of different images of Ryker’s face from chases over the years with “Tornado Daddy” printed over the top of it.

“You like it, Fin-Fin? I have more in different designs. I thought we could all wear them and take a family photo with T-Daddy in the middle.”

I stifle another laugh as Ryker crosses his arms over his chest. “Take it off.”

Joey smirks. “Okay.” He grips his hands at the bottom of his shirt and pulls it up and over his head just as Hawk and Ezra walk up beside us.

“Damn, Joey. You work out for breakfast, lunch, and dinner?” Ezra chuckles playfully.

“Gotta keep up with Tornado Daddy somehow,” he volleys back, eyes making contact with Hawk instead of Ryker.

The older man’s face is neutral, but a moment ago, it wasn’t. I don’t think anyone noticed except me. But I saw the way Hawk’s warm gaze appreciated Joey’s six pack and rested on the V of his hips. It was brief, but it was there.

Joey flexes his arms while maintaining eye contact with him, which makes Hawk look away. The action only spurs a new curiosity over them. Maybe I’m not the only one who’s gone outside professional bounds with someone on this team? Unless I’m completely reading into it given my own situation…

All the same, I find the interaction interesting.

“Alright, alright.” Ryker huffs. “Put your shirt back on, Joseph.”

“You told me to take it off. ”

Ryker fixes him with the stern look of a parent scolding his kid again, and Joey relents, putting the shirt back on.

“God, that’s great.” Ezra’s chest shakes as he eyes the shirt. “When he showed it to me and Hawk before he walked over, I told him you’d hate it.”

Hawk grins. “Joey, I think you should get one in every color.”

“Good idea!” Joey holds his shirt out proudly, making everyone but Ryker laugh again.

“It’s not funny.” Ryker groans.

Ezra pats him on the back. “Personally, I think it’s better than Twister Tamer.”

“You’re the one who coined it.” Ryker gripes.

“Correction: the internet did. I simply perpetuated it. I like this one better.”

Joey pumps his fist in triumph. “That’s what I’m talking about! Think of all the money you could make and the funds you’d bring in for research.”

“He’s right, you know,” Ezra adds.

Ryker growls at Ezra, but despite his annoyance, there’s a playful undertone. “Do not encourage him.”

Ezra’s grin grows wider, turning mischievous. “Let me get a pre-order up, and I’ll put it online—”

“Jesus, no!” Ryker grouses. “If you all don’t stop, I’ll make everyone call me Professor West the rest of the weekend.”

Fire lights in my belly, and I look down at my feet in hopes I haven’t turned red. What I actually want to do is look at him and say, “Really?” but obviously, I’m not going to do that. The goal is to not bring attention to our plight.

When I finally collect myself and meet his gaze, I catch Joey watching me with a strange look, just like he did earlier. From the not-so-subtle comments and glances he made on the drive, I think he really does suspect that more than surviving a tornado happened between me and Professor West. At least now if he brings it up, I can turn the tables and ask him about Hawk .

“It’s happening!” Ezra yells as all of our phones start going off with emergency alerts. “The storm in the north went severe; let’s go, boys.” Then he turns to me. “And woman.”

I shake my head and smile. “Let’s go.”

Everyone kicks into high gear. Joey hops into the backseat of Thor while the other guys head to Ryker’s truck. I move toward the truck as well so I can get my bag from the back, but Ryker stops me with a gentle hand on my wrist. I gaze down at where his skin touches mine, my heart rate kicking up, then look up and glance around. Nobody is paying attention to us, and he lingers a moment longer than he should before dropping his hand.

“What is it?” I ask.

He points to the hard case in the back of Thor and then opens it. A short gasp leaves my mouth when I see almost the exact camera I lost yesterday—but this is the brand-new version. It’s stunning.

“For the one I got destroyed yesterday,” Ryker says.

My eyes snap to his, and I shake my head. “How did you get this?”

“I looked up a local store last night and had the guys pick it up this morning when they opened. Everything is ready to go for you.”

I take a tentative step forward and run my fingers over the camera. “I can’t accept this.”

“You can.”

I pull my hand back. “You know I can’t.”

Ryker takes out the camera, which already has a strap connected to it. “The pictures you take are incredible; the world deserves to see them. To see the storms you capture.”

My gut swirls, and a pang echoes in my chest. He’s seen my photos plenty of times, and more than once, we’ve gotten a little too comfortable with each other during his office hours when showing him my favorites. Most recently, nearly a month ago now, I’d brought him a shoot I did of a supercell in Iowa. He’d been impressed.

We’d stayed huddled close together, our arms and thighs touching as I showed him each one until the janitor came and told us he had to kick us out and turn the lights off. Before yesterday, I’d used that memory when I was in the quiet of my apartment. I’d imagine that we’d kissed, that he’d laid me out on his desk and pressed his body into mine, made me his.

I swallow the lump in my throat and stare at the camera in his strong hands. “Ryker, I—”

“Are you two going to talk all afternoon, or are we going to show this storm who its daddy is?” Joey yells from inside Thor.

My eyes meet Ryker’s, and he holds my gaze for another beat. “The camera belongs to you,” he says. “Please, take it.”

I hold his stare with mine and then finally nod. He’s not going to take no for an answer—I can see it in his eyes. So I take it from his hands and place it around my neck. “Thank you.”

A small smile tugs at his lips when he sees me wearing it. “No thanks needed. Like I said, the world needs your photographs.” His lips part as if he wants to say more, but then Joey yells for us again, breaking our trance.

“Let’s go,” he says. “The storm is waiting.”