Death Knows My Name (Memory Keepers)

DEATH KNOWS MY NAME

CASSE NAROME

SOUL MATE PUBLISHING

New York

DEATH KNOWS MY NAME

Copyright©2013

CASSE NAROME

Cover Design by Fiona Jayde.

This book is a work of fiction.  The names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.  Any resemblance to actual events, business establishments, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

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Published in the United States of America by

Soul Mate Publishing

P.O. Box 24

Macedon, New York, 14502

ISBN-13: 978-1-61935-
256-8

www.SoulMatePublishing.com

The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

To my dad for giving me wings.

My mom for teaching me to fly.

My sister for allowing me to soar and

God for giving me the strength and confidence

to take the first flight.

To all the people

who are no longer with me,

I miss you all.

I keep your memory forever.

Acknowledgements

I owe a huge thank you and a huge apology to my family for not exactly understanding what I was doing all night in front of the computer but accepting it. I promise it wasn’t always spent on Twitter.

To everyone who wouldn’t let my insecurities and doubt stop me. Much thanks to my very first critique partner Constance Ruth Clark for being the first person to get it. Niecey Roy for reading parts of the story and falling in love with it and also listening to my mini meltdowns. Thank you to Cayla McDonald for helping clean up the story and giving me the confidence to share this story. Gina LaFrieda is a rock star friend. She heard my pathetic cry on FB and offered a helping hand.

I have to say one hundred thank yous to everybody at Soul Mate Publishing. They saw my dream and worked with me to achieve it.

Chapter 1

The leaves on the street rolled over the ground, sounding much like footsteps behind me, so much so that even my dog tensed and listened. I turned to make sure we weren’t being followed. Except for the ominous shadows, we were alone. Still, I hurried as I headed back to my apartment, cutting Big Jim’s walk short. He didn’t seem all too bent out of shape about it, which said a lot. We had both seen shadows where there shouldn’t be any, only to look again and find them gone. Every time Big Jim barked I’d jump, only to see him barking at a wall. We were either paranoid or insane.
Wait, those are the same
.

When we got home, I made sure to lock and double-check all the windows and doors. I was a young woman living alone. I could never be too careful. And despite my dog’s name, Big Jim wasn’t bigger than a shoebox. Other dogs, bigger dogs, aren’t suitable for apartment life. As much as I would’ve loved to be owned by a Mastiff or a Great Dane, it just wasn’t practical.

I still wasn’t able to shake the feeling that someone was here and that any second they were about to break in
Strangers
style, I hunkered down on my recliner. Jim took his spot on my blanket-covered lap. Popcorn, cookies, all my usual movie time junk and soda were at my left on the small end table. This was our ritual: movie, snacks, fall asleep, wake up, work. Rinse and repeat. Okay, no rinsing but you get the idea.

Tonight, I made it about halfway through
While You Were Sleeping
before
I
fell asleep.

I looked up at the face of the sexiest man I had ever seen. His kiss met my neck and a moan escaped my lips. Lower. My collarbone. And still, his kisses traveled lower. His tongue now, trailing a path across my heated skin. I tangled my hand into his hair. The soft curly strands wrapped around my fingers. He pulled his kisses away and finally his stare met mine. His eyes . . .

I jerked awake searching the room. I wasn’t sure if I was frantic or hopeful. Burgundy. Those dark, whiskey-colored eyes.

“Damn, I obviously need to get laid,” I told Jim.

My annoying kiddy ringtone went off.

“That’s my phone, Jim! What time is it?” I nudged him from my lap while I scrambled to my feet. I ran to find my cell while my feet tangled with each other, causing me to trip. I cursed as I noticed the sunshine through the edges of my window treatments.
Ah, crap.
I was late, and my boss was going to kill me. Or worse, bust me to biscotti duty. I groaned as I answered. If only to stop the Wonder Pets ringtone.

“Yes.”

“You’re thirty minutes late!” Devon, my boss, screamed at me over the lunch rush roar.

“I know. Sorry, I’m on my way.”

“Mayne—”

“I’m on my way, okay?” I yelled.

Devon sighed. “Fine, just hurry up.”

“Can I at least shower first?” I heard him skip his next breath, and I let a grin spread across my face. When any woman outside of a man’s family mentions showering, he naturally imagines her in said shower, thus making it almost impossible for him to be pissed at her.

I’m not a slut. I just know what works and how to play to my strengths. Strength: I look awesome in the shower. That’s just the way it is.

Even though Devon had known me pretty much my entire life, including during the stage when I was a short stick figure with oily skin and he was a tall lanky boy with too pale eyes set against golden, tawny skin, he could still be shocked into the realization that I was now a woman. He and I were almost close enough now to be like brother and sister, but the key word was
almost
.

He managed to pull himself from the shock long enough to answer. “Go ahead, just make it quick.”

Forty-five minutes later, I was hauling butt down 5th Avenue. Forty-five minutes is a good amount of time for me. My usual showers are an hour, and this curly hair takes thirty minutes to tame unless I pull it into a fluffy ponytail, which is what I did today. I ran the last few blocks from 5th to Diamond and Townsend Court where Lunge Lounge is located. By day, it’s a mere coffee shop, but at night, it’s amazing with live music, good coffee and a chill atmosphere. No smoking, no alcohol, and no poetry, only good music among friends.

When I walked in the front door, I could see Devon had every right to be upset if he still wanted to be. It was packed. Shere glared as I took a clean apron from the hook and tied it around my waist. I rushed behind the counter to where Devon was working the serving station.

“Sorry, again. I’ll take this and you can handle the safe drops.”

He looked relieved to head to the back, away from the bustle. “Thanks.”

I patted his shoulder. “Well, boss, it’s my job.” He grinned and I winked. He hates when I call him boss, he is only two years older than I am and we grew up as neighbors, he knows I do not consider anyone
my boss
, least of all him.

Out of pure guilt, I stayed later than scheduled. By the time the wannabe rocker was setting up for his brooding, self-loathing set, I was ready to head out. There wasn’t enough guilt in the world to make me work the lounge shift. It’s not that the music was bad. It rocked. Plus, the guys were so hot that it was tempting to stay. I just didn’t want to have to deal with the music scene. As a whole, music lovers were fine but it also brought the drama of fast guys and cheap girls.

I stayed long enough to hear tonight’s ‘troubadour’ warming up. I had to fight the chills his voice was trying to send down my spine. I was tempted to sit in the back and listen. I was almost convinced to do that when Mr. Sultry raised his head up from his guitar and peeked through his hair. Our eyes locked and his lips formed a smooth seductive smile. I had to get out of there.

“Devon, I’m gone.” I hung my apron on the hook by the office. “It’s time to go when I start feeling the need to make cow eyes at soul singers.”

“A hook-up isn’t always a bad idea, you know.” Devon waggled his eyebrows, a gleam of humor in his eyes.

The image of my tongue flicking across the tattooed jaw line of a man, flashed into memory. I shook it away.

“See you tomorrow, boss.”

The thought of calling my sister when I got home crossed my mind, but I decided on tomorrow. Tonight, I had
French Kiss
with Meg Ryan and Kevin Kline waiting for me. But first, I needed to hit the store.

Big Jim met me at the door with his leash, so I scooted the food bag just inside the door. I still had a while before dark. I didn’t have to skimp on Jim’s walk. Usually we were very rushed, but today we had time so I wanted to tucker him out. I took him two blocks. By the time we returned to the apartment building, Big Jim was panting. He appeared very pleased, and I was ready to collapse on my chair and not get up for the rest of the night.

I pushed open the door with my hip and reached for the bag so we wouldn’t trip over it. It wasn’t there. Holy heck, where was the bag? I stopped Jim from stepping into the apartment.

“One second, babe, not so fast.” Jim stopped and watched as I dug in my pocket for my phone as I closed the door and backed away. I hit speed dial four and a girl answered.

“Hey. It’s Mayne, is Devon there?”

The girl told me Devon asked not to be disturbed.
Stupid
. He didn’t mean me, and even if he did, who cares? I closed the phone, picked up Jim, and ran all the way to the lounge. Jim wouldn’t make it running on stubby legs that were already tired from his walk. I opened the door to the lounge. I was near panting just as Big Jim had been earlier.

“Holy shit! What’s wrong?” Devon rushed toward me.

I held up my hand signaling him to give me a second. I pushed Jim into his arms and he frowned. Devon doesn’t like my dog.

“Someone is in my apartment.”

“What? Why didn’t you just call me or the police?”

“I did call you. You didn’t want to be bothered.” It came out in a whine and he laughed.

“It’s not funny. I think he stole my Doritos.”

“Did you really just eat them all, feel like a heifer, and then decide to run down here and make up stories? It wouldn’t be the first time.”

I shoved him. “I’m not fourteen anymore. I put the bag right inside the door, took Jim for a walk, and when I got back it was gone.”

“Did you lock your door when you walked Fido?”

“I— Shit. I don’t remember.” I put my hand to my head. “This is insane. Lately I’ve been afraid of my own shadow and then I forget to lock my door? What the hell.” I paused. “And it’s Big Jim, not Fido.” I frowned.

“Come to the office before people start complaining about this damn dog being in here.” He led me back then handed Jim to me. “Sit and wait here. Give me a second and then I’ll take you home.”

“Can’t I just stay with you at your place? You won’t even know I’m there.” I shifted weight from one foot to the other.

“I know because you won’t be. You know how I am with my space.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“I’m not afraid of you.”

“Well, can I stay—”

“Hell no,” he barked. He continued a little more gently. “I’ll check your place and lock it up tight for the night.”

When we arrived at my apartment, Devon opened the door as I huddled close behind him cradling Jim to my chest as we stepped into the dark apartment.

“Please don’t die. Don’t kill Devon and—”

“Mayne?” Devon interrupted.

“Yes?”

“Would you please SHUT UP? It’s kind of hard to concentrate with you muttering about me dying.”

I nodded. “Oh. Sure. Didn’t realize I was speaking aloud. Sorry.”

“You can wait in the car if you like.”

I shook my head.

“Are you shaking your head?” he asked, the amusement in his voice clear as I nodded.

“Now you’re nodding. Good God, you really are scared.” Now concern budded amidst the amusement. No doubt he thought I had finally snapped and lost my mind.

Great, that’s all I need, my only friend thinking I’m crazy.

Devon turned on every light as we passed them. Everything seemed clear so far. The remaining room to be checked was the kitchen. A druggie, no doubt, had spotted an opportunity when I dropped off groceries and left without locking the door.

“There’s your bag.” Devon said, interrupting my thoughts.

Well, there went my druggie theory. My snack bag sat on the counter.

“Are you sure you didn’t come in and set the bag down right here?”

I stared at him with my lips pursed in disbelief. “Do you think I’d forget something like that? Yes, I am sure!” I sank to the floor. What the hell was going on? My mind raced. Well, at least he was a helpful kind of boogeyman. That bag was heavy. Though, he could have unpacked it while I was gone. I laughed.

“Just kidding.”

Devon cocked a brow at me. “What?”

I shook my head. “Talking to myself.”

“Here.” Devon reached his hand out and helped me up. “I’m going to check your place again. You shower, relax, and try to sleep. I’ll lock up tight when I leave.”

I nodded.

He had my bed turned down, Jim at the foot of the mattress when I came out of the bathroom in my kiddy pajamas.

“Sleep in your room. The windows are locked and the closet is clear. I’m going to lock this door when you fall asleep and re-check the rest of the apartment before I leave.”

“You can sleep on the recliner if you want.” I yawned slipping beneath the sheets. “I would feel safer. I keep thinking someone is in here watching me. They could be waiting to jump out and do things to me in my sleep.”

“That doesn’t have to be a bad thing,” he teased. “Now go to sleep, Scaredy Cat.”

I fought sleep as I heard Devon leave. People like to act as if nightmares are the worst kind of dreams there are. They are so wrong. The good dreams are worse; the dreams of memories that are supposed to fade with time.

The memories that loved ones feel guilty over when they start to fuzz over. The painfully great memories of life lost too soon. The memories of parents, friends, and lovers that no amount of movies can chase or confuse away because these memories are far sweeter. The memories you cry over because you can no longer remember them. A mother’s touch on a daughter’s brow, daddy’s goodnight kiss, a best friend’s teasing laughter, the softness of a lover’s hair against bare skin. Only, I wish they would fade, become a little less brilliant in their beauty. Because then, waking up wouldn’t become the nightmare—a nightmare because those loved ones aren’t there. You start to dread sleep and, worst of all, you start to despise waking up.

“Mayne.”

I sat up. Someone called my name. They let it roll off their tongue and linger on their lips like a kiss. The sun shined bright through my room’s curtains casting light in the room except for the shadows, I was alone.

I walked behind Devon as he was unlocking the front door of the lounge. “I came early to help you open up.”

He glanced over his shoulder, grinning. “I like how guilt works with you.”

“Shut up.” I laughed as he stepped aside to let me in the door first. I punched the code on the alarm then  set my bag on the nearest table and got to work behind the counter refilling the cups and cozies. Devon and I worked seamlessly without saying a word. We had that type of relationship. We annoy one another but it’s love. Devon is the only one from my childhood that I still keep in touch with. I tried to walk away but he isn’t the type of guy who gets walked away from. Some people mistake our comfort for something more than it is. I let them. For one, I don’t want to explain it, and two, guys tend to leave me alone because of it.

A piece of paper on the counter caught my attention. “What’s this?” I held the scrap up between two of my fingers.

Devon’s head peeked around the corner. “Looks like a phone number, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what it looks like. But it’s not mine, so I’m wondering why my name is on it.”