Shattered Echo (The Shattered Echo Series Book 1) Read online

  Copyright

  Shattered Echo is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  SHATTERED ECHO: A NOVEL

  Copyright © 2018 by McKenzie Stark

  All rights reserved.

  Editing by KP Editing

  Cover design by KP Designs

  Published by Kingston Publishing Company

  The uploading, scanning, and distribution of this book in any form or by any means—including but not limited to electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise—without the permission of the copyright holder is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized editions of this work, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  Table of Contents

  Copyright

  Table of Contents

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Acknowledgements

  Extras

  Dedication

  I want to dedicate this book to my brother for always having my back no matter what, through thick and thin. For encouraging me and never letting me give up.

  Chapter One

  For the last seventeen years, Sam has dreamed of leaving this place called home. The only reason she has not left yet, revolves around one thing; her mother. It’s bad enough that she has to be put through this hell every day, but it’s even worse that her mother is stuck, and unable to break free of this nightmare.

  She pulls herself from her bed leaving the wrinkled blanket and heads to the bathroom to take a quick, smoldering shower before School. Letting the water wash over her body she feels it releasing the stress and pain in her muscles. With only an hour left before the first bell rings to call the students to their seats, Sam rushes. She throws on dark faded jeans and a hoodie as she heads down the hall edging down the stairs toward the kitchen, tiptoeing; cringing at every creak.

  Moments later, she stands over a hot stove making her mother and father breakfast. That's all she ever does. Besides the food provided to her at school, or the little bit her mother would sneak to her during the late hours of the night, Sam barely ate. She cooks in a hurry, her father would be up soon, and she wants to be long gone, knowing what would happen, what would become of her if he found her over the stove like a lost broken child. She is terrified.

  She breathes deeply, hoping that today would be the day that things got better for her and her mother. But, it’s never okay, not in the world that she lives in. Sometimes she wonders what it would be like if she took off in the middle of the night and never looked back. Would her life be any better? The idea had run through her head over and over again, but Sam could never picture leaving her mother behind.

  Click . . .

  She freezes instantly holding her breath, hoping it's her mother that will appear in the doorway. Sam’s heart beats faster when she hears the creak of the stairs as someone drifts down them. All she can do is hold her breath until they come around the corner, her hand still resting on the spatula.

  Suddenly, the footsteps come to a halt and the sight of black boots and awfully long legs fall into her view. Her eyes travel up the length of him until they meet his dark eyes and his expression that is at this very moment, pulled into a grim line. She knows that this is not going to end well–that all hell is about to break loose.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” he shouts, “I thought I told you that breakfast should be finished before I wake up!”

  She cringes, continuing to make breakfast. She has learned to keep her lips sealed, so she doesn’t piss her father off more than he already is. Just as she was about to pull the sausage from the burning stove; he grabs her, pushing her away from the stove, making the skillet tremble. She reaches for catch it, scalding herself.

  Sam cries out in pain, holding her hand close to her heart; she spares a glance back at the stairs praying her mother would stay locked behind safe walls. Her father’s eyes briefly meet hers and the anger and hatred in them tears at her insides.

  How can a father hate his own child this much? How can one discard his own, let alone touch his own blood without feeling even an ounce of remorse? It never used to be like this, he used to care more. Not too long ago he was a kind, honest, and loving man. A father that anyone would have wanted. Somewhere along the way something changed . . . he changed. It was almost as though it was yesterday, she could still picture it. The three of them would always go to the County Fairs together; it was one of the best past times they shared. They would spend hours there riding countless rides and stuffing their faces with hotdogs and cotton candy. It was one of the days she remembers most–he cared about their well-being and worshiped her mother. It made her believe that there is such a thing as romance. She looked up to her father growing up and wanted to be like him in every way. But just two years after their last County Fair together, at age fifteen, Sam woke up to her mother and father arguing, something that was very unusual with them.

  She had cracked open her door ignoring the light creek that it made as it swung open, sliding between the small space she tip-toed across the hallway to the wooden stairs to peek down the small gap that the stair railing provided so that she could watch her father and mother in the living room. It was hard to see as they were halfway covered by darkness, the lit fire that sat beside them portrayed little to no light

  “We need to stay quiet or we’ll wake Samantha,” her mother whispered.

  Her father’s voice was angry, “Why did you keep this from me? How could I be so stupid to believe you?”

  It was obvious that something was not right, they never fought and when they did, there was no yelling involved–they always talked out their issues. Sam knew that something was not okay.

  “I wanted to tell you, but you just got that promotion and we moved out here. It wasn’t the best time. You have to understand that this doesn’t change anything.”

  “Doesn’t change anything?” he replies, throwing his hands up in frustration, “This changes everything, you lied to me. You made me believe that she…that this was us and it was nothing but a lie.”

  “I’m sorry. This didn’t turn out how I wanted it to, but you can’t walk away from this, you can’t abandon her.”

  Sam could barely make out what they were saying, but she had a feeling that it had something to do with her. She waited a few seconds before sneaking back to her room, closing the door behind her and sinking into the soft mattress of her bed. After that night things started to change slowly. Her father became more distant, less inattentive to her at all. He stopped caring about what she was doing or where she was going–he even started yelling more and alcohol was involved. Just before her 16th birthday Sam learned what it felt like to be smacked, and ever since that day her father stopped being a father at all and instead became a stranger in their own home.

  He glared,
spitting his next words, “Don’t ever look me in the eyes. Do you understand me, do you?”

  Shaking her thoughts and focusing on her father, she clenched her fists at her side keeping her face turned away. When she refused to acknowledge him, he reiterated. The anger boiling over like it’s a pot of hot water sizzling, he reacts, and forcibly he grabs her forearm and swings her around to face him. Gasping lightly, Sam immediately casts her eyes downward and mumbles a light, “Yes sir.”

  Before she can comprehend what is about to happen his fist contacts the side of her stomach, the impact making her double over in pain. The next blow lands right at the base of her ribs; the vibration tears through her entire body like an electrical zap making her grit her teeth. Sam’s hand flies up to hold her ribs as she falls to her knees. Silently, she holds back the cries threatening to escape from her beautiful lips.

  “Don't ever let it happen again or there won’t be a next time, ever!” He stalks off.

  Sam stays where she is curled over on the kitchen floor her head practically in her lap as she lets a single tear wash down her beautiful cheeks; biting her lip, she doesn’t let herself show the sudden weakness that is threatening to escape from their shelter. Painfully, she pulls herself up and makes her way out the side door. She keeps her back to the house and focuses on the sound of her footsteps against the sidewalk.

  Truth is, she’s dying inside, and no one can see it.

  Once to her car, she slides in behind the wheel and throws it into gear. Before pulling from the space it occupied in the small alley way just behind their house, she takes a moment to recollect herself, slamming her fist against the steering wheel a few times to release the anger and anguish that she is feeling. The motion makes her whimper in agony without the fear of being hit again or even mocked for her weakness. She wipes the tears that she hadn’t noticed falling from her small eyes, hitting a button and jumping slightly as the radio blasts to life. She adjusts the sound to avoid shattering an ear drum and disguises the evidence of the previous events, she pulls from the alley way and heads south. She drives for a while letting the music drown out her own damaging thoughts. It is nearly a twenty-minute drive to her school and Sam is already running late. At this rate, she would be lucky to make it by lunch and this is if she goes beyond the speed limit at a perfect 60 Mph and misses the majority of red lights. Her black HTC phone that sits nestled in the little cubby of her stereo starts to ring and her best friends plain, non-smiley face pops up. She shifts lightly to grab her phone, grabbing her side in pain.

  “Hello.”

  “Well, don't sound so cheerful all at once,” a small voice drifts from the other end of the phone.

  Ari has been best friends with Sam since the 5th grade and it all started on the day of the show and tell when Ari decided to bring her pet corn snake and accidentally let him loose causing the whole room to erupt in utter chaos. When the teacher and Principal finally got him back in his cage and demanded Ari be sent to the office, Sam took it upon herself to throw a fit and demand otherwise - nonetheless causing them both to spend the next hour in silence in the front office.

  From that point on they have been inseparable.

  “I'm sorry,” Sam said, “Just didn't get much sleep last night.”

  Ari is the type of friend that was carefree; she normally doesn’t talk anything through nor does she do something before thinking it thoroughly. Often times leaving herself in awkward and surprising situations and when you think about it, this is a common thing for her. You would be surprised how often this does happen; she however takes pride in it.

  Sam has always had her back; taking her side and trying to keep her out of trouble, not that it was always successful. She, however unlike her best friend was much more conservative and thoughtful in the way she portrayed herself and she always kept herself a foot behind everyone else. Ari loved attempting to get Sam to come to the “dark side” although she knew it was a once in a lifetime chance.

  She said, “Sleep during 5th period, we’ll skip!”

  “Ari, you know how I feel about skipping and I really need to focus on my Algebra test right now.”

  “Bummer,” she sighed, “You are SO not fun!”

  Sam laughs, “It’s taken you how many years to figure this out?”

  Ari could always make a horrible day an even better one - she could always count on her to be there when Sam needed someone to talk to and she could trust her with anything. It was about a year ago when Sam decided that it was time to come clean to her best friend about what happens at home and what she goes through. Just as Sam thought, she didn't judge, nor did she ask questions. She was just there whenever she needed her to be.

  Those were always the rules, the less that she knew the better and so far, it has worked out for them.

  “Blah, blah, blah, I swear we need to get you out of that shell of yours girl! It's time to live and explore yourself,” she pauses. Sam could almost hear her thinking, “I know just the thing! Samantha Echo, we are going to get you laid.”

  She laughs, throwing her head back on the car seat; knowing that she was in fact not joking, but she can’t take the seriousness in her voice right now. The idea of getting laid was plain stupid, having never even kissed a guy let alone had sex with one.

  “You have fun with that. There is no way you are getting me anywhere near a guy!”

  “We'll see about that.”

  “You are so full of it,” she screeched, “I’ve got to get off here before I hit some homeless man. Catch you at School?”

  “Of course,” Ari said, before hanging up.

  She drives a little while longer before pulling into South Beach High School parking lot. Most teenagers hated high school, but she looked at it in an entirely different way. Being able to get away from home even for only a solid eight hours for five days a week to avoid any interaction with her father, was like heaven to her. This place is her escape. South Beach High School is a medium sized high school about two stories high with windows lining just about all of it. When you go in through the main entrance you are met with a high ceiling and a large open layout that leads to multiple hallways to each different grade level class room that looked almost like a Y. Sam’s locker sat at the far north side of the school which is always a pain in the ass for her because her 1st period was on the complete opposite side, making her spend more time in a crowded hallway with a bunch of carefree, disrespectful, and outrageously full of joy teenagers bashing each other and gossiping about stupid little things.

  This is the one place she can let herself become invisible in the midst of all the students, and sometimes Sam can feel herself start to fade away and she doesn’t want to be found.

  Chapter Two

  8:05 am . . .

  She pulls into the parking lot rolling past a million unknown faces of her fellow classmates, taking the first parking spot she can find before shuffling toward her locker on the opposite side of the building. Sam gathers the books from her locker and turns the knob to lock it, proceeding toward the lunch room to find her best friend and get something to eat before she has to head to her next class.

  Ari runs up beside Sam wrapping her arms around her, her clammy palms press against her own. She looks beautiful dressed in all black from the black onyx hair hanging over her oval face, the black velvet corset over a black shirt with her usual dark faded jeans, and all the way down to her studded belt and high-top boots; all keeping in compliance with the school’s dress code.

  “Guess who I made Mrs. Stephanie pair you up with for Biology?” she squeals.

  Now what is she up to? Sam thinks to herself. She is always up to something, plotting her own little schemes. How she could possibly always have a devilish idea is beyond Sam’s ability to even comprehend. Ari and Sam are complete opposites. Sam with her need to shield herself from basically anyone that comes near her and Ari who thrives for danger and faces it head on. They counter each other and keep each other grounded.

  “Hurr
y, before we’re late to class,” her voice high.

  Stalling to think of the very person she knows Ari would rather die before ever speaking to.

  “Is it David McKay?”

  She glares at Sam, “Um, yeah ewwww!”

  Sam laughs, enjoying the expression on her face. She shifts from one foot to another uncomfortable.

  “How can you wear these? Jeez woman, you look like a drowning cow!” she exclaims, as she pulls down Sam’s hood as they stop in front of the classroom.

  Growing up with her made it easy for Sam to ignore her sense of humor and take it as it is, but it can be overwhelming for other people. There are times that she wondered if she truly meant it or if it was a joke. So instead, she assumes everything is a joke with her.

  Sam says, “Enough chit chat, who did you partner me up with?”

  Hesitating, Ari speaks, “Well, you see, you need to have some fun and you know loosen up a bit. Try to face your fears head on and learn to live a little,” she continues to ramble on, “I figured it would be good for you, get you out of these baggy hoodies and test the limits you know?”

  “I’m not liking the sound of this, who Ari?”

  “Well, um...He isn't too bad,” she paused, sighing, “Jake.”

  No, No, No, No, Sam yells in her head.

  Daring a glance into the room all she can see is his muscular back from afar. He is standing near the seat next to hers. She is stunned; this guy had just turned 18 yesterday, and he is the bad boy of this school - known for his repulsive behavior and his need to break every girl’s heart that gets in his path. Every girl in this school has done one unappealing thing with Jake Steele and Sam is not going to get tangled into his danger, no matter how incredibly sexy he may look.

  How does he do it? Make every girl want him with his smoldering eyes that pierces your soul, his sharp jaw line, and lean tall muscular build; might I add his gorgeous half crooked smile?