Page 2 of Shameless

“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 aconstant 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?”

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