Shameless (Made For Them #3)

12. Secrets Revealed

Lula

I ’m worried.

The guys look satisfied with the agreement they made with the sheriff, but they don’t know Mason like I do.

“You don’t quit my family business. The only way out of doing what I was born into, is in a body bag.” He once said to me, when he admitted that supplying drugs to our school and to a few Ivy League colleges in the Tri-State area wasn’t his calling.

If Mason felt like he couldn’t quit working for his family, it’s safe to assume that he won’t let Star Thunders go as easily as Jules, Stefan and Crew think.

I need to talk to them and warn them that they have just put themselves in danger by making that deal with the sheriff.

Scott and Sheriff Pullin walk back into the house, leaving us alone on the deck; if Paris, Rikki and London left, I would have the privacy I need to have this difficult conversation.

“What a shit show,” Paris sighs. “Go figure, when I finally met someone hot and exciting, he goes and gets murdered. Way to ruin my summer.”

Coming from anyone else, those words would strike me as insensitive, but the self-absorbed reaction is totally on brand for Paris.

“He might have been a piece of shit,” Jules scowls at her. “But Trevor was still a human being and maybe you could show a little more respect for someone who just died.”

Paris crosses her skinny arms over her fake boobs, shooting an annoyed glare to my stepbrother. “Whatever. You aren’t the one who just lost the best hookup I’ve ever had. Besides, I’ll have to find someone else to buy from. This was supposed to be a summer of wild partying and Trevor had the best coke.” She looks at me. “Lula, can you help? I’ll definitely need some Oxy, but if you could also score me some coke, I’d love you forever.”

Fuck. I’m glad Dad isn’t here or he would have so many questions I’m not prepared to answer.

“Paris, I don’t?—”

“Lula quit dealing.” Crew bites out, cutting me off. “And she’s staying clean. If you don’t plan on doing the same, you better stay away from my girl and my brother.”

Paris doesn’t look intimidated by Crew. “Butt out, Crew. After what I heard from Maura and Evan, you should be the last one to preach sobriety. Unless you want to tell me that you weren’t high or drunk when you crashed Evan’s yacht? I knew you weren’t back in town just because you missed the boardwalk and Joe’s fried pickles.”

Crew’s withering glare is full of warning. “You don’t know shit about me and what happened in Cambridge. Stay out of my fucking business and leave my brother alone. Rikki is headed to MIT in a few weeks and Trevor’s death is a fucking blessing. It’ll make it easier for him to get clean.”

Rather than backing down, Paris ups the ante. “I’d be careful if I were you. If the sheriff heard you, he might think that’s a motive to kill Trevor right there. And it isn’t a secret that you never forgave your father for skipping town.”

A storm is brewing in Crew’s dark blue eyes. “You know nothing about me and my family. Stay away from us, Paris. I fucking mean it.”

She flicks her hair, her chin jutting out, her tone defiant. “Fuck you, Crew.”

A low growl comes from behind Crew.

Napoleon comes barreling down from the kitchen, jumping on his owner’s lap and baring his teeth at Paris.

“The fuck?” she squeals, jumping backwards to put more space between her and the snarling pooch. “I thought you and I were past that bullshit, Napoleon.”

Crew chuckles darkly, but he keeps Napoleon from closing the distance between him and Paris. “If you think a couple of pieces of beef jerky will buy Napoleon’s loyalty, you’re even more delusional than I thought. He just saw you yell at me, you’re lucky I’m holding him back.”

Paris’s tone is aggressive, but the way she paled speaks volumes about her fear of Napoleon. “If he bites me, that’s it. I’m going to have your psycho dog put down.”

“Will you guys stop?”

The desperate plea comes from Rikki, who’s been sitting next to London this whole time, watching his brother and Paris like you would watch a tennis match.

Tears stream down Rikki’s face, his trembling hands raking his bleach blond hair over and over. “Paris, maybe we should cool it off with the partying. I—I’m gonna go back to rehab.”

The tension in Crew’s shoulders eases a fraction at Rikki’s words. “That’s a great idea, Rikki. I’m glad you’re ready to take control of your future.”

Rikki nods. “I’ve had time to think at the police station. If you and Stefan hadn’t stayed with me all night, I would have been with Trevor. A part of me wishes the shooter had caught up with me when I ran. I miss Trevor so fucking much.”

Paris rolls her eyes. “Stop acting like you cared about him. You were his friend just because he gave you anything you wanted. Since the night we met him, all you’ve done was using Trevor and cockblocking me. Every time I wanted to get laid, you were in the way, just begging for a fix.”

London speaks for the first time. “Paris, that’s enough. You’re projecting. If you were so into Trevor like you said, you wouldn’t have been flirting with every guy who would give you the time of day at Maura’s party.”

I’ve seen the twins bicker before, but I’ve never witnessed a full blown fight.

“What was I supposed to do? Every time I thought Trevor and I were gonna have sex, he disappeared on me. And the few times we were together, he was so wasted his dick wouldn’t even get hard. He had too many distractions.” She accuses, pointing her finger at Rikki.

“I wasn’t a distraction,” Rikki says, his brown eyes full of unshed tears. “I was in love with him. And Trevor had no problem getting hard with me, even when he was high.”

Another thing I never thought I would see is a speechless Paris.

“What—” she keeps babbling, clearly shocked. “What the fuck are you talking about? You and Trevor?”

Rikki nods, hot tears steaming down his handsome face. “Yeah. I am - I was in love with him.”

She shakes her head, struggling to come to terms with what Rikki just admitted. “You were hooking up with my boyfriend?”

“Trevor wasn’t your boyfriend. And to me it wasn’t just a hookup. I?—”

“You fucking piece of shit!” Paris snarls. “You were trying to steal my man and cheating on my sister?”

London intervenes again. “He wasn’t cheating on me. Rikki and I want to explore beyond the two of us. He’s attracted to guys and I’m trying to figure out if I’m gay or bi.”

Shock mixes with the fury on Paris’s face. “You knew? You knew he was hooking up with the guy I liked and you didn’t tell me?”

London remains calm in perfect contrast with her twin sister’s agitation. “I would have told you if I thought you had feelings for Trevor. But like I said before, you’re accusing Rikki of doing exactly what you’ve been doing. You wanted Trevor because he was older and popular in town and you didn’t mind the freebies you scored by hanging out with him. Acting like you cared more than you actually did is in bad taste.”

Paris raises her voice. “So that’s it? You’re taking his side over mine?”

“I’m just calling it the way I see it, Paris.” London says softly. “And I’m glad you weren’t in love with Trevor. The last thing I want is to see you heartbroken.”

Her twin’s words do nothing to appease Paris. “But you’re ok to see me ridiculed all over town? How could you let me tell everyone Trevor and I were together, when you knew he was fucking Rikki? You’re assholes. Both of you.”

I’ve had enough of Paris’s selfishness. Her bratty, self-centered attitude reminds me of Tiffany. “Paris,” I intervened. “I know you’re better than the way you sound right now. Please, stop. London is right. Rikki cared about Trevor beyond just hooking up and scoring free party favors. Quit before you start looking like the asshole at this table.”

That was the wrong thing to say. “What the fuck did you just say? You knew too?”

Stefan comes to my aid. “Does it matter? Lula is right. Quit while you’re ahead and take this tragedy as an opportunity to clean up your act, like Rikki is doing.”

She covers her mouth with a trembling hand. “Unbelievable. You knew too. You all knew,” she says, looking around the table. “I thought you were my friends.”

“Paris—” I say.

“No. Shut up, Lula. I was nice to you. I even got you and Stefan to finally talk. I was a real friend and you let me make a fool of myself. It’s fine. I’m going to party without you. I know enough people at the club who might not be my best friends but at least they won’t stab me in the back. Fuck you all.”

She storms into the house, followed by London and Rikki.

“Fuck,” Crew sighs. “Let me go with them. I need to make sure Rikki is ok. He’s in a very fragile state and I want to make sure he really checks back into rehab.”

Jules rises from his chair too. “Stef, I’m going to check on a few things. Luls,” his dark blue eyes soften when they land on me. “I might be late tonight, but I’d love to hang out tomorrow. Just the two of us?”

“Yeah, I’d love that too.”

The words fly out of my mouth before I can think about the fact that Stefan is standing right by my side.

Stefan

Lula and I are the only ones left at the table.

There’s a beat of silence between us and I can’t miss the worry in her eyes when she finally looks at me.

“Is something wrong, Jumps?” I ask. “I mean, aside from the obvious. You look troubled.”

Lula looks away. “We need to talk, Stef.”

Fuck. Nothing good ever came from that sentence. “I’m here. Talk.”

She looks around, obviously nervous. “I’d rather talk in private. Where are Arianna, Tilly and Dad?”

I shrug. “I don’t know about Tilly, but Mom and Tom were planning to have dinner at the club. Mom was worried about the effect the news of the murder would have on the club. There are a ton of memberships up for renewal at the end of the summer and she wants to make sure everyone sees that it’s business as usual.”

Lula considers my words. “Why is she worried?”

“You know how people are,” I sigh. “After the news of the murders broke yesterday, there are so many articles trying to figure out who’s responsible. I’ve seen a few with individual profiles of pretty much everyone who was on the islands the morning of the murders. We’re all considered suspects. It’s like a free for all, online murder mystery game.”

Lula looks surprised. “What? But we all have alibis.”

“Someone is obviously lying,” I say. “Mom and Tom want to nip in the bud any gossip that could damage the club.”

She nods. “It makes sense. Stef, I?—”

Growl .

The noise comes from Lula’s stomach.

“When was the last time you ate something?” I immediately worry.

“I had lunch with Trish earlier.” She reassures me. “She wanted to know how we were doing.”

I like Trish, she’s a much better friend than Paris for Lula. “Is she ok? Come to think about it, did the police talk to her and Les? I didn’t see them the other day.”

“Yeah. Les had too much to drink at the clam bake and he didn’t get up in time for the quail hunt. The housekeeper confirmed that they were in their bungalow all night and until midday. They kept asking for ginger ale and saltines for Les’s hangover.”

So their alibis are ironclad if the house staff kept bringing them room service.

“Look,” I squeeze Lula’s hand. “How about we have something to eat while we talk?”

Lula sighs, resting her head on my shoulder for a long moment.

If she’s looking for physical contact, she can’t be thinking about dumping me. Right?

“I’m hungry, but I’m also exhausted,” she says. “I’m not really up for going out.”

I wrap my arms around her, inhaling the scent of Lula’s floral shampoo from the top of her head. My heart clenches in my chest with love. It’s always been like this with her, since I can remember. I love Lula so much that there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to make her happy.

“How about one of my world famous grilled cheese sandwiches? We could go eat it on our secret spot on the roof and watch the sunset while we talk.”

She lifts her face from my chest, her eyes so huge, the green more intense than usual. “That sounds good, Stef.”

“Can you bring a couple of blankets up to the roof while I make dinner? It’s breezy today and once the sun goes down, it’ll be chilly.”

She nods. “You got it.”

“Meet you on the roof in ten,” I say, following her back inside the house.