Love Me to Death Read online

  Contents

  Copyright Page

  Title Page

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Contract

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Epilogue

  My Story

  Acknowledgments

  About The Author

  Copyright ©2016

  All rights reserved.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior permission in writing of the author and publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  The moral right of the author has been asserted.

  LOVE ME TO DEATH is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events in this publication, other than those clearly in the public domain, are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  Copyright ©2016 by Charlene Antrobus

  Cover Art by Charlene Antrobus

  Proofreading by Nichole Strauss (www.perfectlypublishable.com)

  Proofreading by Marla S. Esposito

  (www.proofingstyle.com)

  Formatting by Charlene Antrobus

  To Dad …

  Because you survived, this story lives …

  Bang. Bang. Bang. “Shhh.” Bang. Bang. Bang. “Go away,” I grumble into my pillow. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang.

  “Open this damn door, Brennan, before I kick it down!”

  Great, it’s Larry, and he’s mad. I growl into my pillow in anger before lifting my head and feeling a dizzy wave wash over me. I think I’m still drunk. Last night must have been a good night, shame I don’t remember a damn thing about it.

  I flip over onto my back and cringe at the patch of dribble gathered on my pillow.

  Bang. Bang. Bang. “You’ve got thirty seconds, kid!”

  I blow out a puff of air and jump when something moves next to me. I move too fast, and before I know what’s happening I hit the floor. I’m lying flat on my back, staring up at my ceiling and trying to pretend that my spine doesn’t feel like it just crumbled into a thousand pieces.

  I crawl up on my knees and peer over the edge of my bed. Blonde hair is draped completely over the pillow next to mine, and other than a thin, pale arm lying diagonally on my mattress; the rest of the unknown body is covered in sheets.

  Either I killed someone last night, or I’ve been a really naughty boy. I’m definitely going with the latter. I grab the jeans I was wearing last night off the floor, jump to my feet and put them on. I creep quietly out of my bedroom, trying not to wake up Miss No Name.

  I move slowly down the hall, toward my front door where landlordzilla is still banging. Seriously, it’s Saturday! Doesn’t this dude know that Saturdays are my hangover recovery days? So inconsiderate.

  “Times up—”

  I cut off Larry’s words just as I swing the door open.

  “Larry, what brings you here so early this morning?” I ask with a fake smile on my face as if I don’t already know.

  “You know what the hell I’m here for!” Probably because of the late rent and eviction notice stuck to my door.

  “Nope, no idea, do enlighten me,” I offer, leaning casually against the door frame. His round face goes red with anger, and I’m pretty sure the swell of his belly just popped the third button off his shirt. I desperately want to tell him that it is, at least, two sizes too small, but it’s probably not the time or place. Besides, he’d only point out that he could afford a new shirt if I paid my rent on time. He is most likely right.

  “Are you listening?” Damn, I wasn’t, but I nod anyway.

  “Look, I’m not playing games with you, Brennan. I’ve tried to give you the benefit of the doubt here, but you’re missing three months rent, and your broken promises aren’t cutting it anymore.”

  Four months actually but I won’t remind him.

  “Look, I will have it all to you by next week; I’ve got some money coming in—”

  “Nuh uh, I’ve heard it before, Brennan, it’s not gonna wash. I want my money in twenty-four hours or you’re out.”

  “Seriously? You’d just throw me out on the street?”

  “Yup, I’m running a business, kid, and you’re becoming a major pain in my ass and pocket. I can’t sustain it anymore. Either I get my money in the next twenty-four hours or you start packing your bags, we clear?”

  “Crystal.”

  “Great,” he states before spinning on his heel and walking off. I watch the back of his head in anger as he stalks away. I slam the door and cringe when I realize that I might have woken up “no name.”

  I can’t be too mad at Larry; he’s a pretty decent landlord. If I have a problem he comes and fixes it as soon as he can. He’s just become a major headache since my whole lack of paying rent moment started. What he doesn’t understand is that I’m not intentionally holding back money from him, I just haven’t got it. That might not be a good excuse but it’s an honest one.

  Something gets caught on my foot as I stroll back to my room, stretching along the way. I bend down to pick it up, and a pleased smile fills my face. Red panties. Ah, last night was a good night. It seems that little Miss No Name was stripped and ready before we even reached my bedroom. I’m good. I reach down and grab the rest of her clothes, not that there’s much there. She would have been just as warm if she’d worn a piece of string.

  “Time to go, princess,” I say as I throw her clothes onto the bed next to her. I got things to do, and I don’t need this chick thinking I do “morning afters,” so she needs to leave.

  “Mmm,” she grumbles as she turns around and looks up at me. She’s pretty but nothing special. “What time is it?” she asks, batting her eyelashes at me.

  Home time. “I don’t know but I got things to do. Your clothes are on the bed. You need money for a taxi?” I ask.

  “Really, you’re just throwing me out like this?” And there it is, the morning-after chick’s glare I’m so accustomed to seeing. Yup, I was over that a long time ago.

  “Look, babe, I nearly got thrown out of here just seconds ago and it’s my place, so don’t think you’re going to get any special favors.”

  “What a jerk!” she screeches as she scrambles out of the bed and starts to put her clothes on, angrily. Smoking hot body. Yup, I can see why I brought her home now.

  “It’s what you all say.” I chuckle before picking my phone up from the floor and calling Layla.

  I watch Blondie as the phone starts ringing. It’s like an un-strip show as I watch her get dressed. If I wasn’t so terrified that she’d castrate me, I might have gone for round two before sending her on her way, but I never put my best guy in danger. Never.

  “Yes,” Layla a
nswers unenthusiastically.

  “Layla, is that any way to answer your phone?” I smirk.

  “You’re seriously calling another girl before I even leave?” No Name growls as she puts one of her stilettos on.

  “Look, Blondie, dudes don’t dig angry chicks. You really need to chill.”

  “You called me while one of your one-night stands are still in the room with you?” Layla asks in disgust.

  “She’s leaving.”

  “Damn right I am!” she says before storming past me. She slams my front door, and I laugh. I fall down on my bed. Great, it smells of cheap perfume.

  “Now, back to you. Is that any way to say good morning?” I chuckle.

  “It’s not the morning; it’s twelve in the afternoon. What do you want, Brennan?”

  “Can a guy not call his big sister without wanting something?” I ask, feigning innocence.

  “Nope, not where you’re concerned, are you in some sort of trouble?”

  “Not exactly, but I need a favor.”

  “What?”

  “Just meet me at Gigi’s in thirty.”

  “Brennan, just tell me what is going o—”

  “Gigi’s, thirty minutes, don’t be late. Love you, Sis.” I cut in before hanging up. I’ve learned one thing about Layla over the years, asking for stuff over the phone gets you nowhere. Now, face to face is where you can pull on those heart strings of hers. I’m going to need all the luck I can get because I’m about to ask her for fifteen hundred dollars. I already know it’s not going to go down too well.

  The smell of coffee hits my nose as soon as I walk through the doors of Gigi’s. This is by far my favorite coffee shop. It’s pretty modern, and the vibe is nice. I search the room for a head of auburn locks and smile when I see that she really showed up.

  That’s Layla for you. She never lets me down, no matter how much I’ve screwed up.

  “Hey.” I smile as I slip into the seat opposite her. “Thanks,” I say, pulling the cup of black coffee toward me. My favorite.

  “What’s this about, Brennan?” Straight to the point then.

  “Sis, why do you have to assume it’s about something? Don’t you think that sometimes I just want to see you?” It’s partially true.

  She scoffs. “You don’t see me; that’s just it; only when you want something.”

  “That’s not true, Layla.”

  “Really? Then when is the last time you’ve seen your niece and nephew?” That silences me. “Great, now that we’ve got past all the BS, can you just get to the point of why you called me here? I’ve got two young children to get back to.” A wave of guilt passes over me.

  “How are Alex and Sophie?”

  “They’re fine, they’re with their dad.” Her face softens. “Brennan, are you in some sort of trouble?”

  And there it is … the heartstrings; only I don’t feel much like pulling at them, I feel guilty. I sit back in my chair and let out a long breath.

  “I’m behind on my rent.”

  I see her tense up. “Again? Jamie and I bailed you out three times. How can you be behind again?” The reminder that my sister and her husband had to save me from being evicted makes me feel like less of a man already.

  “I don’t know. Things are just a little rough right now. If you could just help me out this one time, I promise it won’t happen again, and I’ll pay you back.”

  “How much do you owe?”

  “What?”

  “You heard what I said, Brennan. How much?”

  I hesitate. “Fifteen hundred dollars.”

  She laughs to herself and then shakes her head.

  “No way. You’ve missed another three months?”

  “Things just got a little out of hand.”

  “They always do where you’re concerned. Do you honestly think I just have fifteen hundred dollars lying around? I have two small kids, a husband, and a home to pay for. I can’t keep putting my family out to save your ass, Brennan. Life doesn’t work that way.”

  “I know, and I promise I won’t ask you again.”

  “You’re damn right you won’t. My answer is no.”

  “What?” I’m in shock. Layla never says no.

  “You heard me. You’re my brother, and I love you but this has got to stop.” Her face softens again. “I know things have been hard for you but you’re an adult, and it’s time for you to grow up. I don’t have anyone to bail me out of situations, I have to save myself. You have to learn to figure things out yourself, too.”

  “I am trying but I just got a little behind. It won’t happen again, I promise.”

  “You said that last time. You say it all the time with every problem that comes your way but it never changes with you, does it?” She looks sad.

  I feel pathetic as the words leave my mouth. “I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t desperate, Layla.”

  “And I told you that if I can help you I will but I have to draw the line. I don’t have that kind of money to spare, and I’ll be damned if I put my family at risk because you still want to live irresponsibly.”

  “You sound like Dad,” I grunt.

  “Yeah, well maybe he’s right, Brennan. Perhaps you need to give up on this dream of being an actor and go and find a job that pays the bills.”

  “No, Dad said that because he doesn’t believe in me not because he cares and you know it.”

  “Either way, he’s right. I’m sorry but I can’t help you this time. If you’re that desperate then maybe you should ask him to help you out.”

  “No way,” I say angrily. I wouldn’t ask that man for air if I was dying.

  “Then I’m sorry but I can’t help you.” She stands slowly to her feet. I can see that it hurts her to say “no” to me. “I love you,” she whispers against my forehead after she leans down to kiss it. Then she turns around and walks out of Gigi’s without even glancing back.

  I pick up my coffee. It’s cold. I beckon over a server with my hand and order a large black coffee to go. I hand over the money and sit in silence while I wait.

  I know that some of what Layla said was true but I can’t give up, not now. I’ve worked too damn hard, and I’m not about to give my dad the satisfaction of being able to say, “I told you so.”

  “Excuse me.” I turn around. The voice belongs to an old man sitting at the table across from me. I hadn’t noticed him up until now, but when I look over I see a walking stick propped up on the chair next to him. His head is completely bald and he has a bushy white beard. I am pretty sure he was once a part of some kind of motorcycle club in his younger days. He just has that look. Even though he’s old, I still wouldn’t want to get into any trouble with him. Then I look back at the walking stick and wonder if he had to give up his dreams one day because fate suddenly turned against him. I push the thought to the back of my mind.

  “Hi,” I say, smiling at him.

  “I don’t mean to pry but I couldn’t help but hear your conversation before.” I believe him. I nod my head. “You’re an actor then?”

  “Sort of,” I mumble.

  “Sort of? You either are or you aren’t, my boy.”

  “Well, I don’t currently get paid to do any acting so I guess I’m not.”

  “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You don’t simply become an actor because you get paid to do an acting job. You become an actor — or anything for that matter — when even in the moments when you don’t get paid you still want to do it. Passion validates you, not money.”

  His words penetrate me deep and it reminds me of everything I’ve been through. Every struggle, even when my dad beat me down over the years. The server interrupts us as she hands me my cup of coffee. I nod my head and smile before turning my attention back to the old guy.

  “Nigel,” he offers, stretching out his hand. I shake it.

  “Brennan.”

  “Nice to meet you, Brennan.”

  “You too.
”

  “Anyway, like I said, I didn’t mean to pry but I couldn’t help but overhear that you were in need of some work.” I nod. “Well I don’t know how reliable that board is up there but if my eyes aren’t deceiving me, I’m pretty sure one of those notes up there is advertising an acting job.”

  I swing my head in the direction his eyes are staring and find myself looking up at a wooden board attached to an orange wall in Gigi’s. As my eyes scan the board, I see a mass of yellow notes all stuck to it with different colored pins. My eyes are instantly drawn to the one Nigel mentioned. It’s in the middle of the board and in bold, red letters it says:

  I turn back around to face Nigel who is sipping his drink, with a peaceful expression on his face.

  “Thank you.”

  He nods his head at me before I rise to my feet with my coffee cup in hand. I walk over to the wooden board. As I get closer, I can read the note clearly:

  It’s like it was written for me. I rip the note from the board, stick it onto my coffee cup and search inside my jeans’ pocket for my phone. When I retrieve it, I dial the number on the note and stand outside, patiently waiting for somebody to pick up.

  “Ned Waters, how can I help you?” It’s a woman. I expect to hear the name of a company so I am a little surprised.

  “Hello?”

  “Ned Waters, can I help you with something, sir?”

  “I’m not sure … do I have the right number?” I ask.

  “It depends on who you’re trying to reach.” I can hear the slight smirk in her voice.

  “Yeah, sorry. It’s about the acting job. I found the ad on a note in a coffee shop called Gigi’s.” I feel ridiculous. Is this some kind of prank?

  “Oh yes, gosh I’m sorry, I’ve had so many calls today, I completely forgot about the ad.”

  “So the role is still available?” I ask nervously.

  “Yes … sorry … of course it is. Are you calling for yourself?”

  I nod before I remember that she can’t see me. “Yes, I’m calling for myself.”

  “Ok, that’s great. Can I please take your name?”