Shameless (Made For Them #3)

6. Clearing The Air

Stefan

I f he even so goes near Lula, I swear to fucking God the stable massacre will look like motherfucking child’s play.

I’m itching to wipe that smug grin off Evan’s face and give him a real reason to be shocked.

Because let me tell you, for someone who just lost his girlfriend to a violent crime, the asshole looks more than fine to me.

I clench and unclench my fists, fighting to get my temper under control.

If I do what’s swirling in my mind, it’s not going to help Lula. Realistically, I can’t kill Evan with my bare hands and beating the crap out of him would just be a temporary fix. All it would achieve in the long run is that his father would press charges and I’d be unable to protect Lula from jail.

Evan isn’t the only person I need to watch out for. Tiffany is a snake, a complete waste of space as a mother and as a human being. She doesn’t care about her own daughter and fuck knows she’s already tried to destroy my relationship with Lula once.

When Lula’s stepfather decides that his wife and son should come to Star Cove, I want to scream and smash everything in sight. Preferably over the judge’s head.

I want to yell at Tom and Jules for making it easier for the people who have made Lula’s life hell to come into our midst.

It’s unfair though, I know they’re just trying to choose the lesser of two evils. If they hadn’t helped Tiffany and Evan find a suitable accommodation in Star Cove, Lula could have been forced to follow her stepfather on the campaign trail. Then it would have been impossible for me to protect her.

I know all this but that doesn’t help me calm down and accept the circumstances.

I hate the fear I see in Lula’s eyes and I hate how powerless I am to do anything about it other than be by her side and watch over her.

The thought of running far enough away that our families will never find us crosses my mind, but what kind of life would I be able to offer Lula? She’s still on probation, so we’d have to hide. We’d also be penniless, since I can’t access my trust fund until I’m twenty-five.

Eddie’s team would have helped me be financially independent, but with his death, who knows what will happen to our jobs?

It feels like the walls of the room we’re in are closing in on me as I can’t see any solution to all my problems.

When everyone starts filing out of the room, eager to get their belongings and get the fuck out of here, I barely notice.

I nod, on autopilot, when Crew asks me to grab our bags from the bungalow we stayed in last night and leaves the room with Lula in tow.

A part of me wants to go with them, but maybe walking down the hill to the cluster of bungalows designated to the owner’s guests will help me clear my mind and get my temper under control.

Or maybe not.

“Fuck!”

I punch the wall of our bungalow like a complete dumb ass. The impact with the bricks is painful and my hand throbs, pain shooting all the way up my arm.

It still isn’t enough.

I rear my arm back, ready to strike again. Pretending the wall is Lula’s stepfather and his son. Picturing Tiffany’s face in my mind.

I want to feel the pain. I need it to ground me or I’ll end up acting on every stupid, violent thought in my mind.

Something catches my fist before I can bring it down. Or I probably should say someone.

I struggle with the hold, ready to face Crew or Jules as I turn to look behind me.

I’m surprised when I see that the person holding my fist in a viselike grip isn’t one of my brother’s but Lula’s dad. My stepfather Tom.

“What are you doing, Stefan?” he asks, struggling against me when I shove to get out of his grasp.

“That’s none of your business,” I growl. “Get the fuck away from me.”

“I will if you stop punching the wall,” Tom grinds out, tightening his grip on my fist. “You’re gonna break your hand.”

I finally shove hard enough to set my hand free, turning to glare at Tom. “What do you care if I do?” I snarl. “You hate my guts and you think I’m an idiot, so leave me alone. Go back to doing what you do best, help Tiffany ruin Lula’s life.”

As usual Tom and I don’t see eye to eye. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You couldn’t offer the Country Club fast enough, when Tiffany’s husband decided to dump his family on us.” My tone is infused with all the frustration that has been bubbling inside me for years. Since Tom and Mom got together, effectively ending Lula’s summer vacations in Star Cove. Since the way I was shipped out to boarding school after I ran to New York to get Lula. Since Lula came back and Tom has made it more than clear how he doesn’t think I’m worthy of his daughter.

Tom doesn’t budge. “What was I supposed to do, Stef? Let them take Lula away from me again? I’ve just got my daughter back and the only reason she hasn’t taken off is that she’s forced to stay with us because of her probation. I don’t know if you realize that her stepfather is a powerful man and could pull all kinds of strings to take Lula with him or have her serve jail time. When Tiffany didn’t immediately fall in line with her husband’s orders, I knew she’d suggest Lula join the campaign. Let me tell you something, Stefan. Howard Johnston can’t stand my daughter. He sees her as an inconvenience that doesn’t fit the image of the perfect family he wants to portray for his campaign. He would have found an excuse to send Lula back to juvie or worse.”

He might be right, but I still hate that Tom let his ex and her husband call the shots. “Wouldn’t that hurt his campaign?” I argue.

“They have a plan,” Tom explains. “They sent Lula to California and kept her record sealed but they made it clear that if I couldn’t keep her out of trouble, Howard would feed Lula’s story to the press. He would send her to jail and make an example out of her to bolster his image as a righteous man who wouldn’t give special treatment to his own family.”

That sounds positively evil and I remember Lula saying something like that.

I still think that Tom should have done more to protect his own daughter. “I’m sick of everyone treating Lula like a problem they want to wash their hands of.” My glare makes him more than clear that when I say “everyone,” I mean him. “Sure, Lula fucked up. But why do you think she did? She tried her best to survive. You and Mom walked into the fucking sunset together, leaving her with Tiffany. And when her new husband’s creep of a son tried to touch her, no one helped her and no one even believed her.”

Tom grabs my forearm when I turn to walk away, inside the bungalow. “I believed her.”

My head spins so fast, I’m surprised I didn’t give myself backlash. “Did you? Cut the bullshit, Tom. I was there when you told me and Jules that Lula was coming to stay with us and you expected Jules and I to stay away from her. You said one tryst with her stepbrother was enough. That doesn’t sound like you believed Lula’s version of the story.”

Tom sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I believed her. You know Lula as well as I do, Stef. My daughter would have never resorted to dealing drugs in exchange for protection unless she had no other choice.”

This is fucking crazy. “Then why did you say she was fucking around with her stepbrother? Why not tell Lula that you believed her? She’s convinced that both her parents think she’s a liar.”

He shakes his head. “It’s complicated. I just wanted to do what was best for her, Stefan.”

“Complicated?” I snort. “That’s some bullshit. How is letting her believe you think the worst of her best for her?”

Tom exhales a frustrated breath. “I don’t expect you to understand. I’m not saying I didn’t fuck up. I believed her and I tried to fight Tiffany for custody but her husband is a judge and they obliterated me in court. When you ran away to join her in New York, I knew something really bad must have happened. Lula would have never asked you to do something that reckless unless it was serious.”

This doesn’t make any sense.

“But then… why?” I can’t hide my exasperation.

“When Tiffany asked for my help, she spewed her version about Lula having a consensual relationship with Evan. I knew it was a lie or my ex would have never sent her to California. Tiffany has always been obsessed with marrying rich. She made me and your mother look like the bad guys but she had been cheating on me for years. None of her affairs ever turned into more until Howard. If Arianna and I hadn’t gotten together that summer, Tiffany would have filed for divorce anyway. And do you know what she wanted even more than a rich husband for herself?”

I roll my eyes. I’ve witnessed Tiff’s lectures to Lula my whole life. “A rich husband for Lula?”

Tom nods. “Bingo. If Lula and Evan had truly been dating, my ex-wife would have encouraged it.”

I still don’t get it. “But then why? Why did you pretend you didn’t believe her?”

“Because you know Tiffany. If I had argued with her version of the facts in any way, she wouldn’t have sent Lula here and I wanted to have her back. To protect her. I was afraid that if Lula knew I believed her, she would have confronted Tiffany. You know those two have always been like oil and water.”

I know. And Tom isn’t completely wrong that Lula would have gone on the offensive with her mother if she thought she had someone on her side.

“I get it, but it’s still fucked up.” I sigh.

Tom barks out a mirthless laugh. “Welcome to adulthood, Stefan. Life is fucked up. If you haven’t learned yet that things aren’t always black or white, you better catch up fast.”

Yeah, no shit.

“Why are you here, Tom?” I ask, realizing that he came from literally nowhere when he should be loading Mom and Tilly into his car and be already on the ferry back to the mainland.

“Because I need your help, Stef. Like you just said, Evan Johnston is a threat. Have you seen the way he was looking at Lula earlier? I need your help to make sure Lula has always someone by her side. We need to keep Evan away from her until either the police solve the case, and Tiffany and her stepson can go back East, or Howard’s campaign comes to an end he needs his props back for voting week.”

There’s no need to ask me that.

It goes without saying that I would protect Lula with my dying breath.

But I can’t resist the urge to poke the bear. “So after years of hating me and trying to keep me away from Lula, now you want me to stick closer to her? I guess you think I’m the lesser of two evils , like you said before.”

Tom shakes his head, confused. “Hate you? What are you talking about? I don’t hate you.”

“Coulda fooled me,” I snort. “Come on, Tom. You have been giving me the stink eye every time I even smiled at Lula, since we were in diapers.”

Lula’s Dad lowers his gaze for a second, before meeting my gaze again. “I’m sorry about that, Stefan. I have no excuse except maybe one. I don’t expect you to understand until maybe one day, when you’re a dad yourself. I think Jules will probably know what I’m talking about.”

I roll my eyes again. “Right. I wouldn’t understand. Whatever.”

He sighs. “I’m gonna sound like a complete jerk and it’s hard to explain but I guess you could say I was jealous.”

This is getting weirder with every passing second. “Jealous? Of me?”

Tom nods. “You have to understand the feeling a man has when he holds his baby for the first time. Especially with a little girl? Man, it’s overwhelming. You’re responsible for that perfect little life that you made. You want to protect her and when she looks at you like you’re her whole world? You’re done for.”

I shrug. “It doesn’t sound that weird and you’re right, Jules described the way he feels about Jenna pretty much the same way. But I still don’t see what that has to do with me. I would never hurt Lula and I can’t believe you’d think that.”

“I wouldn’t.” Tom explains. “But put yourself in my shoes for a second. You and Lula were always together, even sleeping in the same crib the first summer Tiffany and I came to spend the summer with your family after Lula was born. She was literally just a couple of weeks old and you were only a handful of months older than her.”

“So? I still don’t get it.”

Tom looks at me with a lopsided smile. “I didn’t notice until the year after. The second you and Lula saw each other again, that was it. She looked at you the same way she looked at me. Actually, it wasn’t even comparable. Lula loved you more than anyone else in the world. And you loved her even more if possible. We even call her Lula because of you. Tiffany was adamant we’d call her Tally, but you were close to eighteen-months-old and you couldn’t say Tally. You used to cry every time any of us picked up Lula even to feed her or change her. You were literally joined at the hip. And this one time, Tiff picked Lula up from your crib and you started screaming No, no, Lula. Lula . It stuck ever since.”

I’ve heard that story a few times. “Yeah, Mom told us so many times. I still don’t understand why that would make you jealous.”

Tom claps me on the shoulder. “At first it was just that you monopolized Lula for the entire summer. It was the only real time off I got with my family when college was on summer break and I would join Tiff and Lula in Star Cove. I kept telling myself that you were a kid and it was stupid to be jealous. Until a few years later. I think you were five or six. We were at the pier and you kids had gotten ice cream. Lula dropped hers and started crying. Naturally, I ran back to the ice cream stand to get her another one, but by the time I came back, you gave up your ice cream for her. I’ll never forget that I praised you for being so generous and offered you the new one. Do you know what you said to me?”

I think about it for a second. I have a vague memory of something like that, but it’s faded, like one of the old photographs from Mom’s childhood. With reddish, weird color and low definition. “Something like, I love her?”

Tom nods. “Yeah, you said that. And then you added ‘One day I’m going to marry Lula.’ ”

I can’t help the grin that fights its way to the surface. “That sounds like something I would say. And I’m going to be honest, Tom. I couldn’t care less if you think I’m not good enough for Lula. I still feel the same way. One day I’ll marry your daughter.”

To my surprise, Tom laughs, squeezing my shoulder. “That was exactly why I started acting like a jealous jerk. I believed you, Stefan. I couldn’t stop thinking that you would marry Lula and since at the time my family was still based in New York, I felt like you’d take my daughter away from me. I know it’s irrational, but I couldn’t fight that feeling in the pit of my stomach.”

That’s crazy. “So you really think I’m not good enough for Lula.”

Tom chuckles. “Let’s clarify this once and for all. No one will ever be good enough for my little girl. Even a crown prince would be inadequate.”

I frown. I’m a stubborn motherfucker. “No one could love Lula more than I do.”

He agrees with me. “I know. And that somehow made it worse. At first I kept telling myself that you’d grow out of it. That you spent more time apart than you did together and one day, one of you would get a crush on someone else at school. I used to hope it would be Lula, because if you broke her heart, I would have had to kill you.”

A genuine laugh escapes my lips for the first time since this conversation started. “I wouldn’t have faulted you if you did.”

Tom’s smile widens. “Right? I kept waiting for you two to grow apart, ready to comfort her, to pick up the pieces. Like when she learned to ride her tricycle and fell over. But it never happened. Every year you kept getting closer and closer. And then the last year we came to Star Cove for the summer, I came to get you to talk to you about the fact that I wasn’t leaving. And I found you kissing on the beach.”

I shake my head. “I thought you were going to kill me.”

Tom’s eyes narrow. “Believe me, I thought I would too. But I had bigger problems back then. Tiffany had found out about me and your mom and we needed to talk as a family. My plan was to stay in Star Cove with Lula, but we both know how things worked out instead. I really owe you an apology, Stefan. I’ve been really unfair to you since… always.”

Maybe it’s too little, too late but I decide to give him the benefit of the doubt. “I don’t know if I can forgive you, Tom. I’m not going to lie, it depends a lot on Lula. If she can forgive you, I know I will too.”

He nods. “That’s fair.”

One thing is still bothering me though. “Is that why you sent me to that military academy after I went to New York?” I ask. “Because you were jealous?”

Tom sighs. “It’s a little more complicated than that. Tiffany had forced Lula to cut all contact with me and your mother. I genuinely had no idea about what was happening in New York until Tiff’s phone call before Lula’s release a few weeks ago. At that particular time we were in a bitter legal custody battle that wasn’t going my way thanks to Howard’s connections. When you ran to New York, I thought it was just a childish whim. I admit I reacted harshly but you running away like that, made me and Arianna look exactly like the unfit parents Tiffany claimed us to be.”

Fuck.

“I actually understand that now.”

Tom looks at me for a long moment. “I’ll do my best to earn Lula’s forgiveness and yours. Please help me keep her safe from Tiffany and Evan?”

That goes without saying. “You got that, Tom. Does it mean you’re going to stop blowing a gasket every time I look at Lula?”

He snorts, amusement dancing in his eyes. “I make no such promises. But if Lula wants to be with you and you promise to treat her the way she deserves, I’ll work on accepting your feelings for my daughter. Doesn’t the fact that you’re step siblings now make you feel weird dating her? People will talk.”

“People can talk as much as they fucking want. I could never be ashamed of my feelings for Lula.”

Crew

I wrap my arm around Lula’s shoulders, guiding her out of the living room and down a hallway that wraps around the house.

The kitchens are at the back of the huge property and I have to wonder why Napoleon was taken there when London dropped him off with the housekeeper before joining the quail hunt earlier this morning.

Lula is walking by my side on complete autopilot, her shoulders are tense and her fingers are curled into tight fists at her sides.

I’m really worried about Rikki, but I’m really scared for Lula right now.

She looked really on edge yesterday during the ride to the port and she was withdrawn and out of sorts the entire night. I had been planning on talking to her in private, but Rikki’s presence threw a wrench in my plans. When I say my brother drinking and smoking with Trevor—and taking God knows what else—I had no choice but to go after him and sit watching him all night.

I can’t even think that Rikki might be responsible for what happened at the stables. Up to a few weeks ago, I would have said without a shadow of a doubt that there was no way Rikki could ever harm a soul. Especially not in such a violent way. But I saw how certain substances can alter people’s behavior when Mom looked for comfort at the bottom of a bottle after Eddie left us. So if Rikki is using the way I fear he is, all bets are off on what he would be capable of doing if pushed.

I’m really worried that Lula might be in danger of falling back into addiction after this latest turn of events.

Guilt twists my insides at the thought that I never realized that Evan was the monster who caused Lula to land into rehab at the end of last year. The same person who ruined my life when he pressed charges and asked for damages in a situation where I was just a well-meaning bystander. People like Evan are the epitome of what’s wrong with the world. Money and status protects them from the consequences of their despicable actions and people like me are left to take the blame and pay the price.

Trevor was a piece of shit and the world will be a better place without him, but the thought hits me that I wish Evan had been in his place. That would have solved my problem and Lula’s in one fell swoop.

Woof.

We hear Napoleon’s excited bark the second we round the corner to the main kitchen.

“Let’s hope that little guy hasn’t caused any havoc in there.” I say, squeezing Lula’s hand as I guide her toward the kitchen.

Nothing could have prepared me for the scene that greets us when we entered the huge kitchen that would be the envy of any Michelin starred restaurant.

A high chair has been placed next to one of the long tables where the team of chefs employed by Mr. Andrews preps the delicious dishes for the guests staying on the island.

A dark red, plush cushion is placed on the chair, and sitting right in the middle of it is Napoleon.

My tiny dog is definitely honoring his namesake right now as the head chef offers him small morsels of a dark meat that looks suspiciously like quail.

Napoleon eats it all up, barking and wagging his tail in appreciation, ready for the next bite.

“You like this, huh?” the chef sounds delighted. “It was roasted on an open fire right outside, seasoned with a secret butter only I know how to make. Do you want another piece?”

Woof.

Un-fucking real.

If I wasn’t totally positive that this is my dog, I’d wonder what they’ve done with the scrappy little creature who has an innate distrust of strangers.

I clear my throat as the chef feeds him another small bite of quail. “Napoleon.”

At the sound of my voice, Napoleon perks up, his big ears turning toward the kitchen door.

Despite the tension of a few moments ago, the way my dog paws at the edge of the cushion he’s sitting on puts a smile on my face.

Lula smiles too and that makes my heart swell with love for my little Naps. He might be diffident at first when he meets new people, but once he accepts you, Napoleon will love you forever.

“Are you Napoleon’s owner?” the chef asks.

I think I’ve seen this guy on TV, competing and winning a famous cooking competition.

“Yeah, he’s my dog. We’re about to head back to the mainland, thank you for looking after him and I’m sorry if he’s been difficult to deal with.” I add, despite the fact that after a discreet check, I can see no missing fingers on the chef.

“Difficult?” the chef shakes his head. “Absolutely not. I must admit that when the housekeeper dropped him off here this morning before the quail hunt, Napoleon looked a little nervous. But I’m not surprised. I was given a bag of beef jerky to keep him happy.”

“Yeah, I don’t know much about the beef jerky. Napoleon is a rescue and he doesn’t trust people very easily. Apparently though, my friends think he’s partial to teriyaki beef jerky and that makes him more friendly and less likely to snap.”

The chef is horrified. “He did stop growling after my sous-chef offered him some of the beef jerky from the bag the housekeeper brought. But I don’t blame little Napoleon for feeling a little grumpy, that cheap, mass produced stuff is terrible. Full of additives and it tastes like something between plastic and old leather. I didn’t have any of my home made wagyu beef jerky that won a James Beard award, but I made some filet mignon for his breakfast and I just found out he loves quail. Don’t you, Napoleon?”

I can’t believe my eyes when Napoleon jumps into the chef’s arms, licking his face the same way he only ever does with me.

“Who knew that the way to your little heart was through your stomach?” I snort when Naps nestles into the chef’s arms, furiously hitting the guys forearm with his wagging tail.

A part of me is happy that Napoleon was friendly to someone that wasn’t me, my immediate family, or Lula. Another part is worried that if this is the only way to get him to mellow down, Naps is going to get chubby.

Case in point, as the chef passes Napoleon to me, he also offers me a small Tupperware container. “I’m going to miss the little guy,” he smiles. “He has a lot of character. Those are some organic carrot sticks and some more filet mignon for the road. Just in case we get hungry, right Napoleon?”

Belch.

Napoleon’s loud burp causes Lula to giggle and that helps offset the embarrassment at my dog’s behavior. I haven’t seen Lula smile since we left Star Cove yesterday morning.

Napoleon’s presence seems to help Lula’s mood. I’m planning to talk to Stefan and possibly Jules—if the asshole can listen without arguing with me for a couple of minutes—about staying as close to Lula as possible while her mother and Evan are in Star Cove.

Only an idiot would try something stupid while the cops are practically watching all of us, but with that creep you never know. He’s already gotten away with assaulting Lula once, so I wouldn’t put it past him to try his luck if he felt like he could get away with it again.

Leaving Napoleon with Lula could also be a good idea. Naps has a great instinct for danger and aggressive body language. I have no doubt that if Evan tried to get close to Lula without her consent, he would lose all of his fingers.