Shameless (Made For Them #3)

9. A New Deal

Stefan

I wish I could stop getting up at the crack of dawn, but three years of early morning PT at the military academy I finished my high school education at, are hard to put behind me.

The thing is, I don’t hate being up when most of world is still asleep. Besides, running clears my head and gets rid of toxins; especially running on the beach with Masha by my side.

I unlock my phone to put on one of my favorite workout playlists from my music app, but a missed call attracts my attention. I usually would ignore it, it isn’t coming from one of my contacts, so it’s probably some sales pitch or something equally unimportant.

I noticed they left a voicemail though and something makes me listen to it.

Eddie had a will and he must have mentioned me in it if I’m being asked to attend the reading.

They ask me if I’m free later today. The dust hasn’t settled in the aftermath of Eddie’s death, so my schedule is wide open. Probably attending this meeting will help shed light on what will happen to Star Thunders and to my job. I’m still not going to West Point. Even if I hadn’t already withdrawn, nothing can change my mind. There’s no way I’m going anywhere unless Lula is by my side.

I’ve been running for about an hour, doing a full circle of the Cove that gives our little town its name. It’s several miles in reality, but I’m a fast runner even over long distances. The town has also grown and expanded a lot from the original settlement by the sandy cove that’s now covered by the biggest mansions in the area.

“What do you say we take a shower and go get breakfast for Lula? I would cook her breakfast, but if I do, Mom will have me make it for everyone and it’s much easier to buy it.”

Masha replies with a soft whimper; she knows exactly what I’m talking about, I always buy her a sausage and egg sandwich. She’s a fully fledged member of the family and I love spoiling her.

Just like I love spoiling my girl.

Thinking about Lula, is that her over there? I squint to focus on two figures that seem deep in conversation a couple of hundred feet away.

I jog toward them and it’s definitely Lula and a guy I have never seen before.

I quicken my pace when I see her hugging her middle in a protective stance. Whoever that is, he better not be bothering Lula or he’ll have to deal with me.

I catch the tail end of their conversation as I come to a stop behind Lula.

“No thank you,” she sighs. “I want to try to stay out of trouble.”

The guy gives her an appraising look. “Even with your mother and her stepson in town? This is how you and I met after all and if you need me to scare that fucker off, our old deal still works for me.” He says with a shrewd grin.

A deal? This isn’t a stranger. Lula said the guy she used to deal for protected her from Evan.

Motherfucker. This can only be the asshole who let Lula take the fall for him and get arrested in his place. A part of me wants to introduce him to my fist for being a scum bag and letting Lula get into trouble to protect his sorry ass. Another part of me wanted to thank him for protecting Lula when I couldn’t and because at the end of the day, what happened last year in New York resulted in Lula coming back to Star Cove.

“My stepbrothers and Crew will protect me.” Lula turns him down.

I don’t understand why she’s so tense. She always said this Mason guy was her friend but her body language is telling me things must have changed.

I know Lula can stand on her own two feet, she’s survived more than the average woman her age. But what kind of boyfriend—and stepbrother—would I be if I didn’t protect her?

“Yeah,” I say, taking a step closer to her. “We’ll keep Lula safe. Who the fuck are you anyway?”

The stranger confirms my hunch. “I’m Mason, one of Lula’s oldest friends. Who the fuck are you?”

The challenging grin on his face tells me that he knows exactly who I am.

I wrap my arm around Lula’s shoulders, squeezing her affectionately when she nestles against my side. “Stefan Cutler.” I say, holding his gaze. “Lula’s oldest friend and boyfriend.”

Mason doesn’t look intimidated by my tone or by the fact that I have at least five inches and fifty pounds on him.

“You might want to up your game in protecting your girl then.” The fucker provokes me. “Where were you when Lula almost died in last night’s storm?”

Guilt twists my insides. I let Crew distract me with making sure that Rikki didn’t get wasted—or more wasted than he already was—and I wasn’t by Lula’s side when she needed me most.

It pisses me off beyond belief that if my brother hadn’t followed her, Evan could have hurt her. Or Lula could have drowned when her boat capsized. Jules wasn’t sure exactly why Lula stole that boat in the middle of that storm but he said it had something to do with that black bag she took with her and wouldn’t let out of her sight.

When I got here just a few minutes ago, Lula was turning Mason down. Was he trying to get her to sell for him again? Is that the whole deal with that bag? My gut feeling tells me that it is.

I don’t answer Mason’s question. “Lula just told you she doesn’t need your protection,” I bite out. “So go back to wherever you came from.”

If he had some sense, the asshole would heed my warning, but instead he chuckles. “No can do, I’m afraid. I have business in town, so I’ll be around a little longer. Lula,” he says, ignoring my scowl. “If you change your mind, or if you need anything, I’m staying at the Morelli’s house. It’s the last house on this stretch of beach. Like I said, I owe you one.”

I wait until Mason saunters out of earshot from us and lower my gaze to Lula’s. She hasn’t moved from her spot, her arm wrapped tightly around my waist.

Her shoulders sagged with relief the second Mason walked away though, so I know I mustn’t be too far off the truth. “Jumps,” I say softly. “Was that…?”

I don’t need to finish the sentence, Lula nods.

“That was Mason. The guy who was protecting me from Evan.”

What she doesn’t say is that she was selling Mason’s drugs in exchange for that protection and that he’s the reason why she ended up in juvie.

“What is he doing here?” Is my next question.

The answer couldn’t be more shocking.

At first Lula seems hesitant, but once she starts telling me about her reunion with Mason, I wish I had followed my instincts. If I had, now we’d have a body to dispose of.

“Jumps.” I don’t even know how I feel about it all. Different, equally intense emotions are battling in my chest.

“I’m so sorry, Stef. I?—”

I turn her around in my arms, coaxing her eyes to mine by lifting her chin as gently as I can. “Why are you sorry? I’m sorry you went through all of that alone. Why didn’t you tell me?”

The tears that well in her eyes don’t stop me wanting to kill Mason any less.

“I was so scared. He threatened you. You, Jules and Crew. He said if I failed to pay him back, or if I told anyone, he’d kill you. I would have rather died than risk one of you being hurt because of me.”

I tighten my arms around her, pulling her to my chest. “My sweet, brave Jumps.” I murmur. “You should have told me. I can’t believe you risked being caught stealing and you almost died trying to repay a debt that didn’t really exist.”

She exhales a shuddering breath. “It did. Arianna destroyed all the drugs I took with me from New York. That stuff was worth five figures.”

Thank fuck that scumbag has walked away or I would turn him into fish chum. “It doesn’t matter, Lula. If Mason was your friend like he wanted you to believe, he would have never threatened you. Besides, he would have protected you without asking you to do anything in return. Especially something illegal.”

She lowers her gaze. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

Lula doesn’t get it. “I’m not mad at you, Jumps. I’m mad that another person you trusted let you down. Can you make me a promise?”

Her voice has a cautious edge and I can’t really blame her. “It depends on what it is.”

Life has taught Lula that she can’t really trust anyone. I’m willing to work on showing her that she can trust me and that nothing will ever come between us again.

“Promise me that if anything like that ever happens again, you’ll come to me. I know you wanted to protect me, but we protect each other. We would have talked about it and found a solution together. Preferably something that wouldn’t put your life and your freedom at risk.”

There’s a glint of amusement in her eyes.

“What?” I ask.

The corners of her lips quirk up in the beginning of a smile. “Nothing.”

“Jumps.” I try to sound stern, but her smile is contagious and I can never hide my emotions from her. She knows me better than anyone.

“I just think it’s a little funny that you think we would talk about something like that.”

I can’t help but feel confused. “Why not?”

“Are you telling me that you would have listened to me calmly and not charged into Mason’s house fists first?”

Fuck. She does know me. “You aren’t the only one who’s changed, Lula.” I argue. “I know I’m impulsive, but I’m learning to slow my roll.”

She nods. “Good to know, Stef. Because I promise. No more secrets, no matter how scary things can get.”

My heart almost bursts with love for her, when she pushes on the tips of her toes to touch my lips with hers.

“I love you, Stef.”

I say it back and for a second, I just push everything else out of my mind. All that matters is the feeling of her mouth, the way she parts her lips when I trace their seam with my tongue.

I kiss her with everything I have, fisting the fabric at the back of her light jacket to pull her closer to me.

My hands seem to have a will of their own and they slip down to her perfect ass.

I swallow her moan, hungry for more. Then I remember that we’re on the beach and someone could walk past and see us.

The temptation to take her back to my room and have my wicked way with her is almost too strong to resist, but Mom wakes up early and it’s very unlikely that we’d be able to sneak upstairs undetected. Besides, Masha is sitting patiently on the sand and I know she must be starving.

Very reluctantly, I break the kiss.

“What do you say, we run to get breakfast for everyone?”

Lula nods. “It’s the best idea I’ve heard in a while. Last night I was too nervous and I barely touched my dinner and now I’m famished.”

I pinch her toned ass, chuckling when she squeals and retaliates by pinching mine. “Don’t start something you can’t finish, Stef.” She warns me.

My mouth stretches in a provocative smile. “But I really want to finish it. I have some errands to run today. What do you say we go out tonight, just the two of us? And then I’d love to get some time alone with you.”

She laces her fingers through mine. “You have the best ideas, Stef.”

Crew

I park my Jeep in front of the address Eddie’s lawyer’s secretary gave me.

“It looks like Stefan and Cutler got here before us,” I tell Napoleon.

Woof .

I pet him on his favorite spot, between his ears. “Yeah I know, Naps. I wish Rikki was here with us too. Scott Larson called to say they were getting the gun residue test results today so hopefully he’ll be released soon. In the meantime, we’ll see what this is all about. Are you going to come with me to the reading? Two sets of ears are better than one.”

Woof .

I swear this dog understands everything I say. Napoleon’s ears move from side to side as if to tell me that he’s gonna pay attention.

“Ok Naps,” I sigh, scooping him up and locking the car. “Let’s see what this bullshit is all about.”

I might sound harsh, but when my late father was involved, bullshit was never off the plate. I wouldn’t be surprised if he left us some crippling debt to pay.

The law firm offices look pretty intimidating with dark wood panels decking the walls, marble floors and solid, expensive looking furniture

“Good afternoon sir,”

The greeting comes from a blonde, young secretary dressed in a suit that probably costs more than my monthly rent.

I walk to her desk and brace myself for her to object to Napoleon’s presence.

“How can I help you?” she smiles instead.

“I’m here for the reading of Eddie Branagh’s will?”

The woman nods, rising from her chair. “You must be Mr. Crew James? I’m Janine, we talked this morning on the phone.”

I shake the hand she offers, confirming my identity.

“Forgive me for asking, Mr. James, but I haven’t been able to get ahold of your brother. Mr. Frederick James?”

Yeah, I’m not surprised. Rikki wasn’t under arrest, but I bet my last dime that sheriff had his phone taken away.

“Rikki has been… otherwise detained. I’m attending the reading on his behalf too.”

A frown appears on Janine’s forehead. “Do you have power of attorney? If not, we might not be able to open the will. The instructions were pretty clear?—”

“I have power of attorney,” I cut her off. “Let me forward it to you.”

I tap on my phone screen and email her the file. Ironically, if Rikki hadn’t recently been checked into rehab, I wouldn’t have power of attorney. But my brother still had to make arrangements for his accommodation in Boston and some extra paperwork for financial aid, and I offered to take care of it while he got himself clean.

“Perfect,” Janine is all smiles again. “Follow me, please. Mr. Spencer will be with you momentarily.”

Naps and I are ushered into an opulent looking board room.

“Crew, hi.”

I walk toward the side of the mahogany table where Stefan is sitting, making a show of avoiding Cutler, who’s occupying a chair opposite his younger brother.

Woof, woof.

What the actual fuck?

Napoleon leaps out of my arms and onto the table and runs toward Jules, wagging his tail.

Have I entered the motherfucking Twilight zone?

“Hey mutt,” Jules chuckles, petting a delighted Napoleon. “I’m sorry, I don’t have any beef jerky on me. I had no idea you would be here. But I have some in the car and if you’re a good boy, I promise you can have it once we’re done here.”

Fucking traitor.

Napoleon licks Cutler’s face and the asshole picks up my dog to pet him and hold him on his lap.

That bothers me of course, because Jules and I are still like oil and water and we work best when we give each other the widest possible berth.

Another thing that bothers me is that both he and Stefan are wearing nice button down shirts and slacks as opposed to my jeans and t-shirt.

I wish I had thought about dressing better, especially after seeing the office.

It is what it is though and the only thing I’m glad about is that I didn’t put on ripped jeans.

The entrance of an older gentleman interrupts my train of thought and I hurry to take a seat next to Stefan.

“Good afternoon gentlemen,” he says. “My name is Raymond Spencer and I’m the senior partner and founder of this firm. First of all, I would like to express my sincerest condolences for the loss of your father, Mr. Branagh.”

I press my lips together, to trap the snort that bubbles to the surface as I hear the regret in the lawyer’s voice.

By the look on Cutler’s face, I’d guess he feels the same way about Eddie’s loss. After all, while he and Stefan were born with a silver spoon in their mouths—or in Jules’s case probably up his ass—our experience of Eddie as a father was surprisingly similar.

It’s ironic that when it came to being a deadbeat, borderline abusive asshole and to cheating on our moms, Eddie did things very equally.

You could cut the silence in the room with the proverbial knife when none of us thanks Mr. Spencer or expresses any grief or regret for Eddie’s loss.

“Very well,” the lawyer clears his throat, taking a seat at the head of the table. “I think we can proceed with the reading of Mr. Branagh’s will. He left a letter for the four of you that he wished to be read before his last will. I’m aware that Mr. James is here on behalf of his brother too.”

We wait for the lawyer to open a thick Manila envelope and I would be lying if I said that I’m not intrigued. To be honest, it’s a very odd mixture of curiosity and chagrin for the fact that I have to give Eddie way more time than he bothered to give me in the last ten years.

Dear Jules, Crew, Stefan and Rikki,

If you’re reading this, it means that the unthinkable has happened and I met an untimely demise.

I hope I went in a blaze of glory racing one of my new powerboats or that my heart finally gave in while I was fucking a smoking hot woman. Either way, I hope my end was fast and that the last thing I did was something I loved.

Racing and fucking were the two biggest passions of my life and for what I’ve seen since I came back to Star Cove, the apples didn’t fall far from the tree, at least with three of you.

Rikki, you’ve always been smarter than average, kiddo. I never knew how to relate to you, I guess it’s good that I wasn’t around much to screw up more than I already had at the beginning of your life.

Let’s cut the bullshit, regardless of how I met my maker, I know none of you would nominate me as father of the year.

I’d say that I’m sorry and that things are complicated, but the reality is that I was never cut out for being a family man. I loved both your mothers and I tried my best with both of them until the situation exploded in my face.

Skipping town was my best option—your mothers were furious, understandably—and I was given ten million incentives to stay the fuck away.

If you’re wondering what I mean, it’s so simple it’s almost cliché. After Arianna kicked me out, her father came to see me at the motel I was staying at until I figured out my next move.

Jules, Stefan, your grandfather was never a fan of mine and once my indiscretions were exposed, he wanted to make sure I would leave and stay away from his daughter and from you two.

Maybe I should have been scared that he’d have me killed, but it wasn’t his style. The old man came with his check book in his pocket and he offered me an eye watering amount of money to leave California and stay gone. I’m not proud of the choice I made, but he gave me ten million reasons to get out of dodge and I would have been stupid to turn down that offer. Let’s face it, it’s not like your mothers wanted anything to do with me after they discovered each other.

I’m not going to apologize for how things went down, the past is written and we have to answer for our actions.

I’m also not going to get sentimental about three of my kids joining my team. Again, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree and you didn’t just inherit your height and some physical traits from me.

The good Mr. Spencer will read you how my estate will be divided, but before I go, I just wanted to address something.

The relationship with our main sponsor, Mr. Morelli is of the utmost importance. Let Trevor handle that side of things, he has my full trust.

Lastly, I wish I didn’t have to leave everything I worked so hard for. The afterlife would be way better if we could take our money with us. But since we can’t, enjoy the fruits of my labor and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.

See you later.

Eddie

Well, shit.

Two thoughts hit me at hearing my father’s words from beyond the grave.

One is that he must have written this letter fairly recently because he talks about us joining Star Thunders.

And the second one is that if we ever thought Eddie regretted being a lousy husband, an even worse father and not a great person all around, we were wrong.

The motherfucker had no regrets for his many misgivings. A part of me hates him for it, but another part of me—the one that didn’t fall that far from the tree probably—respects the way Eddie owned his shit to the bitter end.

There’s a beat of silence in the room.

“I guess he did go fast,” Stefan breaks the silence, his tone dark. “One shot to the face. Boom. Not pretty but instant.”

Jules and the lawyer scowl at his dark humor but I can’t stifle a snort.

“Sorry.” I mutter, but I’m not sorry.

Fuck, I hate that I sound a lot like Eddie right now.

“Very well,” the lawyer clears his throat again after looking around the table as if to make sure that there aren’t any more inappropriate reactions to our father’s last words. “If you are ready, I’ll move on to reading the actual will.”

We all nod. Let’s get this show on the road.

“I, Edward Jason Branagh, declare that I sign and execute this instrument as my last will, that I sign it willingly, and that I execute it as my free and voluntary act. I declare that I am of the age of majority or otherwise legally empowered to make a will, and under no constraint or undue influence.

This will replaces every will I may have previously written.

I name my attorney, Mr. Raymond Spencer as the executor of my will. Should Raymond not survive me, I name whoever will take his position as senior partner of Spencer and Spencer as my executor.

I wish to divide my assets as follows:

Any money in my current accounts, should be equally divided between my four children. Should any of my children not survive me, the sum should be divided in equal parts among the surviving children.

I leave Star Thunders and all its assets including the premises and the powerboats to my three children who are part of the Star Thunders team.

If at the time of my death, Crew, Jules or Stefan were not living, the above asset should be divided in equal shares between the surviving children.

I leave my share of the patent to the electric motor and overall design of the Star Thunders electric boat to Crew, Jules and Stefan in equal shares. The same provision of the previous clause applies if any of them weren’t living at the time of my death.

My wish is that my children will continue my legacy in boat racing and my pioneering work in the field of electric boats.

I also wish that they keep my staff employed after my death, especially my chief engineer, Tory Savage who owns the other half of the patent.

I also recommend that they keep Star Thunders’ excellent relationship with our main sponsor Enzo Morelli, my deputy manager Trevor Braverman will be a key asset in this regard.

To my son Frederick, I leave my newly acquired mansion in Star Cove. Rikki, do as you please with the house. Just be reassured, its value at today’s market price is equivalent to the company share each of your brothers has received.

To my girlfriend Chanelle, I leave my Lamborghini Gallardo and a sum of one hundred thousand dollars. In case Chanelle and I weren’t together at the time of my death, the car and that money should go to my four children in equal shares.

I leave my Ducati Desmosedici D16RR NCR M16 motorcycle to either Crew or Jules. This bike is my baby and it’s worth a cool two hundred and thirty-five grand. Boys, you should race for it. Winner takes all …

My mind drifts away while the attorney reads all the closing clauses of the will.

I don’t know what to make of it. Eddie didn’t care about us in life, but he seems to have left us his company, his money and a very valuable patent.

Of course in typical Eddie fashion, he was a complete douche bag and he’s making me race Jules for his fucking bike. He immediately picked up on the bitter rivalry between us and, rather than trying to help us put our acrimony to rest, he’s fostering it even from beyond the grave.