Shameless (Made For Them #3)

1. Murder Island

Lula

I bury my face in Stefan’s chest, soaking up his warmth, inhaling his fresh, citrusy scent.

Crew is immediately behind me, stroking my hair and murmuring soft, soothing words in my ear.

It feels good. Safe.

I snort out a laugh. I know it’s ridiculous, there’s blood everywhere and three dead bodies, it’s not funny.

And yet, it kind of is funny that I feel safe in the middle of this ridiculous, gory carnage.

My heart is slamming against my chest so loudly that it drowns the voices around me.

“Are you sure you aren’t hurt?” Jules asks someone, probably Rikki.

“I’m ok. I don’t mean ok, but—fuck.”

I lift my face just as Jules pulls Rikki into his arms.

“I know what you mean. I’m glad you aren’t hurt,” he pulls slightly back to take a better look at his half-brother. “You’re covered in blood.”

A sob escapes Rikki’s lips and he covers his mouth with a trembling, tattooed hand. His eyes are so huge that the pupils are blown, covering the brown of his irises. It gives him a haunted look in his pale, gaunt face. “It isn’t my blood. I—I woke up shaking. I needed something… a fix. Crew and Stefan watched me all night, they didn’t let me go out and the stuff I took last night was wearing off. I snuck out to go look for Trevor when they finally fell asleep.”

Jules asks the same question that comes to my mind. “How did you get here? Weren’t you in your bungalow on the other island?”

“I just found someone from the staff, they were loading drink crates on a boat and I hitched a ride. They said everyone was already hunting and I thought Trevor was with them. I heard gunshots and followed the noise. Then I—I found him. Them. I found them.”

Rikki repeats what he said when he ran toward us a few minutes ago. He saw Trevor and kneeled next to him, trying to help. He heard more gunshots and footsteps and saw someone in a dark hoodie and pants who went after him.

“I thought they were gonna kill me too,” he weeps. “I hid behind a tree and they ran just past me. I?—”

“You shouldn’t have touched anything.” Jules says. “This is a crime scene and when the cops come, they’ll think you’re involved in this mess.”

Rikki’s reaction surprises me. He goes from distraught to angry in the blink of an eye. “I saw my… friend was hurt, Jules. I didn’t think. What would you have done if that was you?”

Jules opens his mouth to respond, but Crew cuts in. “Ha. You don’t know Cutler well enough, Riks. He wouldn’t help his own mother.”

Just like Rikki a second ago, Jules’s tone goes from concerned to angry in mere seconds. “Fuck off, James.” He snaps. “You know shit about me. I’m just saying that he’s tampered with a crime scene and he put himself in danger by staying here while the shooter was still around. I’m worried about him, like you should be if you weren’t too busy trying to get into Lula’s pants.”

“You’re being an asshole,” Crew argues. “Don’t you see that Rikki is in shock? Arguing about what he should have done makes no difference now. Maybe if you weren’t always trying to have the last word, you’d pick up on other people’s mental state a little better.”

I close my eyes, hiding my face in Stefan’s ripped chest. “Stop.” I whimper.

“Lula is right,” Stefan intervenes, tightening his arms around me. “We need to find someone to help. Alert everyone that there’s a murderer on the loose. You should know better, dick measuring contests can wait.”

“Stay out of it, Stefan.” Jules scolds his younger brother. “And by the way, what the fuck were the two of you doing here?”

I lift my face from his chest just in time to see Stefan’s eye roll.

“We woke up and saw that Rikki was missing, so we came looking for him. Duh. We asked one of the staff to bring us here.”

Jules barks out a mirthless laugh. “Go figure. I’m glad I never asked you to babysit Jenna. You two can’t even keep an eye on Rikki for one night.”

Crew comes to Stefan’s aid. “Typical Cutler. If you want to criticize, maybe you should help. Where are you and Lula coming from anyway? Lula never came back to our bungalow—wait a second. Where’s Napoleon?”

The question is for me.

“I—I wasn’t feeling well last night. I must have overdone it with the shots. I wanted to go for a walk to clear my head… I’m so sorry, Crew. Napoleon was asleep on my lap and I left him on the chair. I was planning on coming back, but then I got caught in the storm and?—”

More tears well in my eyes. I can’t believe I forgot about Napoleon. What if the little guy got lost in the storm when everyone was looking for shelter from the rain?

“Napoleon is with Paris and London.” Jules offers.

“Come again?” Crew looks more than confused. “He hates the twins. Well, at least he hates Paris.”

“Nah, he’s fine. When I saw Lula leave, before I went after her, I saw him asleep. I picked him up and gave him to London. She wasn’t drinking since Paris was getting shitfaced as usual.”

Crew doesn’t look appeased. “Seriously, Naps hates the twins. And last time I checked, he can’t stand you either. How did you pick him up without getting bitten?”

This time Jules’s smile reaches his blue eyes. “Napoleon and I buried the hatchet after his first encounter with Masha. Since you insisted bringing him with you everywhere and you’re a constant pain in my ass, I put an effort into making friends with your psycho dog.”

“Ha. I fucking doubt it.” Crew bites out. “If there’s one person Naps hates as much as Paris, it’s you.”

Jules’s smile widens. “Like I said, Naps and I are fine. A couple of weeks ago, you were too busy talking on the phone during training and your tiny beast came sniffing around me as I was having a snack. I’m sure you know your dog loves teriyaki beef jerky. At first I was scared I’d lose a finger when I offered him some, but he was surprisingly gentle when he took it. I’ve been keeping beef jerky in my pockets since then and that little gremlin knows. He’ll still growl and bark at me when he sees me, but I think it isn’t because he wants to maul me anymore, he just wants his treat. I gave some of that beef jerky to London last night, so I’m sure your dog is fine.”

Crew

Thank fuck Naps is fine.

I don’t know what I would do if something happened to my little pooch. That dog is my best friend.

The thought hits me that I would mourn Napoleon way more than I would my own father and that’s what brings me back to reality. Because Eddie is dead.

“Guys,” I say, taking Lula’s hand to let her know that I’m not mad at her. “What are we going to do about this mess?”

“We need to go look for help.” Lula says, her eyes moving from the Jeep to Eddie’s high school graduation ring still on his lifeless finger, and then away from the body.

“I think it’s obvious that they’re beyond help,” Jules sighs. “But you’re right, we need to get some kind of law enforcement involved. Three people are dead and whoever killed them might still be on this island.”

God knows I fucking hate to agree with Cutler, but he’s absolutely right.

I pull Lula closer to my side. “We should probably stick together until the police are here. Safety in numbers and all that.”

My little brother, who has been quietly crying, fruitlessly trying to clean his bloody hands on his white wife beater, exhales a shuddering breath. “Yeah, that’s true. It’s like in a horror movie. The one who walks away always gets killed.”

I hope Rikki is wrong, but the truth is that we don’t know what the fuck we’re dealing with. Why these three people were killed so violently. I’m about to voice that question and a million others that are swirling in my head, but my attention is diverted toward the noise of a few vehicles that are approaching the clearing in front of the building.

It’s a couple of golf carts and a Jeep.

Mom, Tom and Arianna are in one of the golf carts.

Scott Larson, his wife and his daughters are in another cart; there’s one last golf cart with Sheriff Kirk Pullin and his wife, Star Cove mayor Ted Madison and a blonde woman I recognize as Chanelle, Eddie’s new girlfriend.

Our host George Andrews jumps out of the Jeep. “Hey guys,” he smiles, looking at me, Jules and Stefan. “What’s going on? We were having breakfast before resuming our hunt and we heard some gunshots. I keep some weapons here in the stables, and we wanted to make sure no one got hurt—” his jovial smile dies down when he spots the blood and Eddie’s hand peaking out from under the open door of one of his Jeeps. “What in the world?”

He turns around and jumps back as if he had been electrocuted when he spots Eddie. “Who? What?”

After a few seconds of shock, he walks toward the open vehicle, probably trying to determine the identity of the body. A bloody pulp is where Eddie’s face used to be, making my late father unrecognizable.

“What happened?”

Before Mr. Andrews can take another step, he’s stopped by the sheriff. “George, don’t move. You almost stepped into that pool of blood. This is a crime scene and no one should touch anything. Does anyone care to explain what we’re looking at?”

Jules is the first one to speak. “Kirk, it’s Eddie.”

The sheriff looks at the body again. “Eddie? As in, your father?”

Cutler nods. “That’s his team owner polo shirt and he still has his high school graduation ring.”

“Your father,” the sheriff’s expression changes. “And you’re all here. I’m sure there’s one explanation that isn’t the one that comes to mind looking at this mess.”

Stefan reacts before any of us can say anything.

“Believe me, Mr. Pullin, we’re just as shocked as you are. We just got here after we heard the gunshots and found him.”

Jules agrees with his brother. “Stefan is right. Unfortunately Eddie isn’t the only victim. There are two more bodies in there and there.” He points out two of the connected buildings. Each “cell” is the size of a two car garage and the attached buildings form a square where one side is missing and is left open.

“What? Two more bodies in the stables?” George Andrews gasps. “Who else?—”

“No!” Lula leaves my side to run in front of our host, stopping his advance. “No please sir, don’t go in there. Dad, Mr. Pullin, don’t let him go in there. Maura is…” Lula loses her battle with the tears she’s been fighting since we all got here.

“Sweetheart,” Arianna, Tom and Mom are immediately by her side. “Are you saying that George’s daughter is…?”

Lula nods, covering her face with her hands. “Maura and Trevor.”

George Andrews runs toward the stables before anyone can stop him.

I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forget the way he cries out when he finds his daughter’s body.

“Fuck,” the sheriff mutters. “No one move. This is a crime scene, am I clear? Everyone stays exactly where they are. Scott,” he turns to look at Paris and London’s dad. “On second thought, come with me. This isn’t my town, but until the local police are called, I guess I’m the one who’s gonna have to deal with it.”

As Lula keeps crying softly in her dad’s arms, I check on my mom. She’s holding onto Arianna’s hand like a lifeline, her face pale, her gaze fixed on Eddie’s hand.

“Mom,” I say as softly as I can muster. “Don’t look at him. Come here.”

She cups my face with both hands, like she used to do when I was a kid and I was sad because something didn’t go my way. “Are you ok, Crew?”

I nod. “I’m fine. He wasn’t much of a father to begin with and I learned to live without him for the past decade. I’m not surprised someone shot him. With the way Eddie treated others, I’m not surprised someone finally snapped and took care of his ass.”

“Crew,” Mom whisper-yells. “You shouldn’t say this stuff. Especially not in front of the sheriff. We’re on a private island, they’re going to look for the person who did this among all of us.”

She’s right.

As it is we’re stuck on this island with someone who just unloaded a shotgun on three people and got away, leaving a bloody mess behind.

However I’m not too worried for my own safety right now. “Mom, I’m going to be ok. But we need to protect Rikki.” I nod toward my brother.

Rikki is hugging London, both of them weeping softly.

“What do you mean? You can’t think your brother did this?”

I try to keep my voice as low as possible. “One of the victims, Trevor, was selling to Rikki. I’m not sure what happened exactly, but Rikki was looking for Trevor and got here while the shooter was still here. He was the first to find Trevor and he tried to help. He’s covered in his blood.”

Mom covers her mouth with one hand. “You can’t possibly think your brother did this?”

I shake my head. “No. But we need to make sure the sheriff knows that Rikki has nothing to do with this. It’s only a matter of time until they figure out Trevor was a drug dealer and his connection with Rikki is going to draw attention.”

A sardonic laugh comes from the Jeep the owner drove here.

“If drugs are involved, I can bet my engagement ring that my daughter has something to do with this entire kerfuffle.” A rail thin woman in tight khaki pants and huge Gucci sunglasses jumps out of the Jeep. “I guess it was too much to ask for you to keep Lula out of trouble, huh Tom?”

Lula’s father tucks his daughter into his side. “Tiffany, this isn’t the time.” His tone is annoyed but laced with something else. Warning maybe.

“Mom?” Lula gasps. “What are you doing here?”

So that’s the famous Tiffany. I take a better look at Lula’s mother as she comes closer to her ex-husband and her daughter.

Lula has always used the expression “white trash with new money” to describe her mother and fuck me, it fits the woman in front of me to a T.

Tiffany Johnston moves her sunglasses to the top of her head, to keep up her bouncy bleach blonde curls out of her face.

My first thought is that she looks nothing like Lula, but if I look more carefully, I can see the resemblance in the few traits that haven’t been disguised by makeup or altered by plastic surgery.

While the two women have different eye color, they share the same shape. Tiffany’s lips look unnaturally plump, probably enhanced by fillers, but at careful inspection, I can still see the soft Cupid bow I find so attractive in Lula’s mouth.

The oval of their faces is also similar and so is the delicate slope of their necks.

The woman ignores her daughter’s question and points a red lacquered talon at her ex-husband. “You had one job, Tom. Keep our pathetic excuse for an offspring out of trouble for one year. One year. You couldn’t even last two months. But I shouldn’t be too surprised, considering how these days you devote all your energy to your whore.”

“Good morning to you too, Tiff.” Arianna bites out, clearly unimpressed with the way her former best friend is talking to her and her husband.

“Mom,” Lula asks again. “Seriously why are you here?”

“It’s Tiffany to you,” she snaps. “I thought I made that clear. And don’t worry, Howard and I aren’t here for a family reunion. Evan is dating George’s daughter, so we’ve been invited to her birthday weekend. The last thing I could think of was to find y’all here. George used to keep much better company back in the day.”

Evan?

If this woman is the stepmother of the asshole whose yacht I accidentally trashed, that can only mean one thing.

The guy who’s basically destroyed my life is the same guy who tried to force himself on Lula. The same guy who drove her to seek protection from a drug dealer.

I don’t know if I should grab one of the shotguns and go looking for that fucker, or thank him.

It’s ironic that while he’s the reason that both mine and Lula’s life derailed, he’s also the catalyst that put me and Lula in Star Cove this summer.

Another thought hits me.

If Evan is the person who assaulted Lula, this is why she looked so on edge last night.

I need to find a way to fix both mine and Lula’s situation. Evan and I made a bargain last night. If I win the race, he’ll forgive my debt. Is there an angle I can work to make sure he stays away from Lula for good? Aside from using a shotgun on his face, of course.

Scott Larson and the sheriff interrupts my thoughts as they practically carry a distraught George Andrews out of the stables.

“Well everyone,” the sheriff says. “I guess we’re all stuck on these islands until a forensic team has worked on this crime scene and we can understand more about what happened. I already called the local authorities and they authorized us to go back to the main island. We’re to wait in the main mansion and I have been asked to help interview everyone who was on this island this morning. The boat race is canceled until further notice.”

Great.

My only chance to get out of my debt with Evan Johnston or to make the money I owe him has just vanished in thin air. And we’re stuck on Murder Island.