FALLS LIKE THUNDER [TYLER OWENS]

TEN : MY PAST MISTAKES IN BARBED WIRE

CHAPTER TEN : MY PAST MISTAKES IN BARBED WIRE

CHICKASHA, OKLAHOMA

HER RITUAL DOES NOT STOP, EVEN WHEN SHE'S ON "VACATION". She wakes up on her own, the red numbers of the motel clock blinking a crisp 4 a.m., with Kate still tossing around in her sleep beside her, blankets tangled on the floor.

It makes her smile; some things never really do change.

She tries to stay in bed, willing herself to grab even a few extra minutes of sleep, but the restless anticipation gnaws at her. She isn't sure when Javi will even want to leave yet, when his crew will even wake up to start their clock.

Eventually, with a heavy sigh, she gives up and gets out of bed. Swapping her pajama shorts for a pair of jean shorts, she pulls on her old Muskogee sweatshirt over her tank top, not ready to gear up for the field but decent enough to step outside. Her tablet, left to charge overnight, is ready to go. She pulls up the NWS Doppler feed, scanning for cells that Javi had mentioned heading towards. There's one just east of them, hitting northwest above Arlington, that looks especially promising.

She's still poring over the data when her phone rings—loud, insistent, and all too familiar. Rolling her eyes, she picks it up and sets out for the motel lobby.

Willow grips her phone tighter, feeling that familiar mix of irritation and exhaustion settle over her as Joel's voice blares through the line. She only answered thinking it had been a serious work concern he could not handle on his own, but alas, he apparently spends his free time watching the Tornado Wrangler live-streams, one she had been unwillingly apart the day prior.

"I cannot believe that is actually what you requested time off for," Joel snaps, laying on his disbelief so think she can practically see him shaking his head. "Storm chasing, Willow? Are you serious?"

Willow huffs as she grabs a cup from the complimentary coffee stand. She knows it's bitter, stale, but it's the closest thing she can get to comfort as she puts up with this man's bullshit. "I don't see how that's any of your business, Joel."

"You nearly got knocked out by that camera yesterday!" he retorts. "And StormPAR? I shouldn't have ever let that guy get through to you." There's a huff, a pause. "You need to come back. Right now."

"I'm not coming back yet, Joel," she replies, keeping her voice steady even as her patience thins. She pours herself a cup, dropping in two creams, hoping it does something for the stale taste. It doesn't, but she sips on it still.

Joel takes in a deep breath on the other side as if he's trying to calm himself too. "You belong here."

"You don't need me right now," she explains cooly, carrying her conversation from the lobby outside again. She sets up shop at the picnic tables out to the right of the motel, empty in the early morning, a perfect spot for her to set up with her radar. "I set you up with a whole team there."