Straight from the Heart

by Breigh Forstner

  Straight from the Heart

  A Novel by Breigh Forstner

  Straight from the Heart (Book 1)

  By Breigh Forstner

  Smashwords Edition

  Copyright 2014 Breigh Forstner

  Smashwords Edition, License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Table of Contents:

  Dedication:

  Chapter 1: Second Chance

  Chapter 2: Demons

  Chapter 3: Don’t Stop Believing

  Chapter 4: Nothing but a Good Time

  Chapter 5: King for a Day

  Chapter 6: One Thing

  Chapter 7: Lips of an Angel

  Chapter 8: Seize the Day

  Chapter 9: Face Down

  Chapter 10: I Hate Everything about You

  Chapter 11: Congratulations

  Chapter 12: Addicted

  Chapter 13: She will be loved

  Chapter 14: Love like War

  Chapter 15: Tears Don’t Fall

  Chapter 16: Run Free

  Chapter 17: No Ordinary Love

  Chapter 18: The Final Episode

  Chapter 19: Outside

  Author's Note:

  About the Author:

  Other books by Breigh Forstner:

  Books coming soon:

  Dedication:

  I’ll make this quick, I promise!

  I would like to first thank my daughters for putting up with me whenever I was jotting ideas for this story in my notebook. You would than want to color. I love you so much girls!

  Also, I would like to thank my family and friends. I didn’t tell them for a while I had a published novel, so this is new to them, and I appreciate everything you have done for me.

  Another dedication goes out to the designer of this amazing cover: Madelene Martin. I cannot tell you how much I love this cover, you are amazing! For anyone in need of an eBook cover, check her site out: http://madelenemartin.tumblr.com/

  One other thank you to my brother Dayne for editing and formatting the book. You did a great job and loved hearing your feedback.

  Nancy (my first Beta Reader) I can’t thank you enough for reading an early copy and I’m glad you liked it!

  Lastly, who could forget the readers? Without you, I wouldn’t be writing! Obviously, but it’s your constructive and positive feedback that helps me improve as a writer.

  I can’t thank everyone enough, and there will be many more books to come!

  Chapter 1: Second Chance

  I could feel the leather of the guitar case glued to my palm. Hot and sweaty against my skin, I held onto it for dear life. My guitar was my gateway to a new universe. I could get lost, and no one would care to find me.

  That universe was about to be taken from me.

  “Bryn Schaefler, did you not hear anything your father told you?” My mother yelled as she tried to wrestle the guitar away from me with a sharp tug.

  “Yeah I heard every word.” I mumbled. “You want me to throw this guitar away.”

  Mother let her freshly manicured fingers slip slightly, a devious smile forming from her dark red coated lips. “You are throwing your life away with this piece of garbage young lady. Breaking up with Ethan, buying this ‘instrument,’ getting a job? That is not what Schaefler’s do. Do you understand me?” She said "instrument" like it was a piece of scum in the road. Little did she know I had saved up a whole couple of months’ worth of money working at the fast food restaurant in town to afford a nice acoustic. An Alvarez Dreadnought. It took over five paychecks until I finally took the wad of cash into the local Guitar Center. I remember that day as the best day ever.

  “Bryn, give your mother an answer.” My dad scolded me, standing in the front door, arms crossed like a security guard. He knew I would leave. Brayden, my older brother, left before me. I’m sure he anticipated it all of these months leading up to my high school graduation. I frowned at him in confusion. Were they really trying to take the one thing that meant everything to me away?

  “No. You’ll never take my guitar from me.” I clung to my guitar as if my life depended on that instrument without slipping and leaving a dent in my parent’s wood floor. I’d be paying hell for something so stupid.

  “Don’t you fight me on this! Do I need to call the cops like we threatened with Bray…?”

  “Brayden is gone for a damn good reason," I spat back "He can’t stand to see you anymore.” Tucking strands of black hair behind my ear, I anticipated the worst. The belt, a hand to the face, or the butter knife in the kitchen only the live-in chef used for our dinners. I watched their faces go from furious to betrayal. No one ever mentioned Brayden, and how he left at Christmas time because he wanted to go overseas and explore the music scene. I guess it runs in the family.

  My mother brought a thin hand up to my face and slapped me with every fiber of energy she had. I felt the sharp sting on my cheek, stepping back in shock. She never used to slap us. Not until she took up drinking every night when my dad worked longer hours. It became obvious. She only kept us around because it made her who she thought she was: A trophy wife, an amazing stay at home mom who loves her kids. She never loved us. It was never about what we wanted to pursue, but what made the Schaefler name more credible in the land of the rich and powerful.

  As my fingers grazed the hot flesh on my face, I felt my blood boiling inside my body. This is it, I told myself, I have to go. Running around my mother, I grabbed the suitcase that held at least a week’s worth of clothes. I needed to do this. If my parents were going to continue to run my life, degrading me, hand picking my boyfriends, telling me where to go to school, I couldn’t stay in this cage. Deep breath Bryn…you can do this.

  “And where do you think you’re going with that?” My dad rested a hand on my shoulder, trying to stop me from walking any further out the door.

  “Since when did you ever care?” I asked in return, staring my dad dead in the eye, and then repaying my mother’s glare. Her eyes narrowed and I thought for a minute she was closing them so she didn’t see me leave. Taking a deep breath, I said my final words to them. “Every day of my life, you have told me what I can and cannot do, who I can be friends with, who I can date. Hell, you signed me up for the most prestigious colleges in the United States without me knowing! I am DONE being a puppet and a little show girl you can parade around saying ‘look at my sophisticated daughter,’ that is a bunch of bull-shit.” I held my stance as I breathed in the silence. It was nice, quaint even. But it was not enough. I shoved my dad aside as he remained beside my mother, not moving an inch to convince me to stay. That sealed the deal. It took every bit of courage in me to touch the squeaky clean door knob and step out the door.

  “Bryn Michelle Schaefler you come back into this house,” Mothers voice sounded strained now, full of heartache. Maybe after 18 years of breathing I finally got to this cold hearted woman.

  “Sometimes goodbye's a second chance.” I answered, “This is my second chance.” Slamming the door, I never looked back or even peeked past my shoulder at the prison behind me. I had no idea where I was going, or if I had any money in my pockets, but I was ready for an adventure.

  That was it.

  Chapter 2: Demons

  The walk to downtown was about five and a half miles. My feet were sore. Between dragging a 10 pound suitcase in my right h
and, and guitar case in the left, my arms were ready to fall off. My mind was processing a million thoughts at a time, with ‘Where do I even stay?’ or ‘How am I supposed to survive?’ among them. I knew my parents weren’t going to come after me. Hell, Brayden made a clean sweep, why couldn’t I? I thought about calling him and asking for some big brother advice, but he had never called since leaving, so maybe he hated me.

  Stopping at the corner of Main St. and the dirt road that led to the riverbank, I sat plopped down on the bench a few feet away.

  “Finally,” I mumbled, , shifting around until I felt comfortable. I looked straight down Main St., contemplating where I should stop for food and a place to stay. I remembered there were some lofts above one of the restaurants close by, but with my credit card, which I’m sure mother deactivated by now. I had to figure something out quick.

  I despised this feeling. Like I let my parents down for doing something I loved: playing music. I felt like I always disappointed them. Whenever I tried out for a sport in high school and I only made freshman or J.V team, my mother would demand that I go back and talk to the coach until I got varsity status. Each time I got any grade lower than a B my dad would take away my money in my saving account and car for a week. They beat me down not with feet or hands, but with their words: fat, ugly, pale, dumb, whatever degrading word there was, it was used against me.

  I gripped the railing on the bench tighter, reliving the painful memories of nearly getting beaten by a belt because I talked back. NOT even talking back; when I spoke “No” that’s when all holy Hell would break loose and I wished I was buried six feet under.

  After breaking up with Ethan I realized I was better than my parents' words. I was going for what I wanted in life, my own way, and I loved it. I wanted to make mistakes, get into trouble, and try things I never imagined I would.

  Was I really that sheltered?

  Catching my breath, I got back up and made my way towards Lozanos, the Italian restaurant a block down the street. Maybe Louisa would have a suggestion on where I could stay. I reached the two story brick building and stepped foot inside. Sandwiched in between the concert hall and a record store, Lozano’s was always my favorite place to eat whenever Ethan and I went out. Besides Ethan, I went with my friends Bethany and Gina, but told my parents I was with Mr. Preppy pants. God I wished they were here right now. They had decided to take the summer and drive to California because they wanted to get into modeling.

  I still got jealous, wishing I would’ve taken the chance to get out of town when I had it. But I hadn't, and now I was stuck.

  “Hey it's my Bryn!” Louisa Lozano called in her thick Italian accent as she greeted me at the door. I gave her a squeeze and enjoyed the aroma of fresh cut pepperoni and dough. “How are you my sweet girl?”

  I gestured to my bags. “Well I was kind of hoping I could stay for a bite to eat and to talk.”

  Louisa immediately picked up my bags and set them behind the counter where they would stay safe, since it was only her and her husband working, along with their son Alberto.

  “Look no further, hunny 'Berto, cook Miss Bryn a large pepperoni pizza with extra pepps!” Alberto Jr. acknowledged her with a nod, waving at me with a bright smile, his olive toned skin and dark brown hair were dripping with sweat as he worked back in the kitchen. I smiled back and waved as Louisa gestured towards an empty booth. “So tell me what happened this time Bryn.”

  “I left for good.” I told her. “They didn’t like that I wanted to pursue music instead of becoming a ‘trophy wife’ like my mother. Mom wanted to rip my guitar from me and burn it in the fireplace. I couldn’t do it Lou.” She could tell I was getting emotional, wrapping her arms around me as tears started falling.

  “Ohh, sweet Bryn, I give you credit for dealing with them for as long as you did. But your 18 hunny, legally you can do whatever you wish. You want play music, play! You want be trophy wife, be trophy wife! It’s your life and you know you always have the support of Alberto Sr. and I.” Louisa said gently, stroking my hair.

  I immediately felt better. Louisa was like the mother that I never had. I loved how she always called me sweet Bryn. She had the most positive attitude out of anyone I’d ever known. She and Alberto Sr. built Lozanos from the ground up, using all of their savings from Italy, and it had flourished into one of the best Italian restaurants in the area.

  “Thank you Louisa. It’s weird, only carrying a suitcase and my guitar…no money left in the account that I know of, I don’t know what to do. I didn’t pack much.” This coming from the girl who wore dresses every day and very rarely donned a pair of jeans unless she snuck out…which became quite often as the years went on.

  “Don’t you worry B.” Alberto Jr. assured me, bringing me a fresh out of the oven pizza with pepperonis piled on top. “You can work here, can’t she Ma?”

  “Yes! That is exactly what you can do. You can start tomorrow.” Louisa suggested as I took a bite of pizza. I enjoyed every last bit of the hot dough and warm sauce, making my taste buds hungry for more.

  “I don’t want to put you guys out,” I replied, wiping pizza sauce from my cheek and taking another bite.

  “It’s the least we can do,” Louisa insisted. “There’s the loft above the music store next door that’s open for rent if you want it. We’ll give you the first month free until you can get on your feet.”

  I sat there in complete shock. Here I was being offered a job and a temporary place to live? I didn’t know what to say. It was the start I was looking for.

  “Wow, I mean, that is amazing. Thank you guys so much for the offer!” I couldn’t contain the grin on my face. This was the happiest news I had received in a while.

  “You are very welcome, sweet Bryn.” She replied, passing me a flier that was on the table beside us. “Before you get settled, guys have been passing these around this morning. They're looking for a new member in some big rock band. I thought of you.” I glanced at it. I vaguely recognized the name of the band, who I thought were from around here, and noticed auditions were not even an hour away from starting.

  “I can’t do that Lou, I’m not that good.” I hesitated, but she stopped me before I could go further.

  “Don’t say that. Saying ‘can’t’ gets you nowhere.” Louisa placed her tiny hand on mine. “I believe in you. Everyone here does. You go audition for this group and make a name for yourself.”

  Maybe I could do this? If music was what I wanted to pursue, then what the Hell.

  “I don’t even have anything ready to audition with Lou.”

  “What about that song you used to sing when you brought Gina and Bethany in here on Saturday nights? Something about kingdoms?” She asked me.

  “You mean ‘Demons?’” I reminded her.

  “Yeah, that’s the one.” Louisa chuckled, and set the empty pizza tray aside. “You sing so beautifully and play that guitar like those people on the radio.” I laughed along with her, and she caught me up on everything that has been going on with her family and the restaurant.

  A few minutes passed and I studied the clock on the wall. I figured I could drop my suitcase off at the loft and head to my possible audition.

  “It was good seeing you guys again.” I told the Lozano’s, giving each one of them a hug and kiss on the cheek before I left. “And thank you again for letting me stay in the loft.”

  “It is our pleasure, my dear.” Alberto Sr. said as he approached us from his office. “Anything you need you just let us know.”

  Waving goodbye, I dropped my suitcase off inside the door to my new home before heading back downstairs. The flyer was in my hand, crinkled from my nerves building up. I mean I love to sing, I love to play my guitar, but I’ve never played in front of people that are in a frickin’ band…I couldn’t do this!

  I plugged in my headphones and listened to the song I’d be singing, “Demons,” by Imagine Dragons. In a way it helped me through the last couple of months of Hell I’d been living in. Holdin
g onto my guitar case even tighter as I walked back into the crowded downtown, I continued another couple of blocks until I saw the name of the place that was on the flyer: Crabby Pete’s.

  “Here we go Schaefler,” I told myself, as I entered.

  The sound of heavy metal music filled my ears. I watched a guy up on the small stage pounding away at the drums, sounding like a heartbeat pulsing a mile a minute. To anyone else this would be garbage, but to me it’s fuel. I love it. The way his arms moved like lighting, hitting the symbols and feet pounding on the bass. I watched from the back wall where no one could see me. From the rhythm, I could tell it was “Beast and the Harlow” by Avenged Sevenfold, one of my favorites. I envied how Synyster Gates could shred, and play guitar so effortlessly, moving his fingers up and down the guitar as if it was child’s play. I wasn’t that good, since I didn’t have much time to practice due to hiding my passion from my parent’s eyes

  I watched a couple of more people playing the drums, some played bass, and another girl came in with her electric guitar absolutely killing it. Was I in over my head? I didn’t see the band members’ faces yet, but the guy on the far right stood up and scanned the venue.

  “Anyone else?” The guy cupped his hands around his mouth and announced to everyone that were still there. Now or never, I thought.

  Taking a couple of steps forward I waved my hand high enough to be noticed while not seeming too childish. “Me.” I called, staggering all the way up to the side of the long table where four guys sat with pen and paper in their hands. I couldn’t tell whether they were taking notes or just doodling.

  All of them eyed me up and down as I set my guitar case down to get it strapped up. It was that moment when I felt their stares burning through my back, leaving a hole.

  “You play guitar at all?” The man sitting in the middle questioned me. He ran a hand through his messy dark brown hair and didn’t smile. He sounded like he just got out of bed from the way his voice slurred. My eyes were immediately drawn to the tattoo that was on his left shoulder. It looked like a bald eagle with quotation underneath it. I couldn’t open my mouth to speak. Ethan was good looking in his own way but this guy, I didn’t know his name and my skin already felt tingly just from him staring at me. “Stupid question. Obviously if you’re holding one you must play.”