If You Could Only See (Buchanan Brothers Series Book 1) Read online

  If You Could Only See

  Copyright 2018 Monica Clayton

  Published by M.E. Clayton

  All Rights Reserved

  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 enjoyment only, then please return to Smashwords.com or your favorite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This book is a work of fiction. The entire content is a product of the author’s imagination and all names, places, businesses and incidences are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons (living or dead), places or occurrences, is entirely coincidental.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned or distributed in any manner whatsoever without the express written consent from the author, except in the case of brief quotation embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  Formatting: Smashwords

  Cover: Adobe Stock

  Warning: This book contains sexual situations and other adult themes. Recommended for 18 years of age and over.

  Table of Contents

  Acknowledgements

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Chapter_1

  Chapter_2

  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

  Epilogue

  Playlist

  About_the_Author

  Other_Books

  Contact_Me

  Acknowledgements

  The first acknowledgement will always be my husband (unless we ever divorce, then probably not so much after that), but seeing as how I can’t imagine that day ever coming, I can’t ever put myself out there without thanking him for all his love, support and belief in me.

  Second, there’s my family; my daughter, my son, my grandchildren, my sister and my mother. They are the people who love me the most and know me the best, but love me dearly, in spite, of all they know…LOL!

  And, of course, there’s Kamala. She insists that I don’t have to thank her in every book, but my love for her and gratitude for all her support and enthusiasm, claims otherwise. She’s the first person (outside my family) that I shared this dream with, and she’s been by my side every step of the way. Kam, you really are the best kind of friend!

  And, finally, I’d like to thank everyone who’s purchased, read, reviewed, shared and supported me and my writing. Thank you so much for helping make this dream a reality and a happy, fun one at that! There are not enough ‘Thank You’s in the world….

  Dedication

  For my husband –

  Your constant efforts to make sure I know that I’m always enough, heal me more than you can imagine. I love you more than you can possibly ever know.

  Prologue

  There was blood everywhere.

  Well, maybe not everywhere…but it sure seemed that way. Of course, I wasn’t knowledgeable enough to assess how much was an appropriate amount of blood in a situation like this.

  I’ve experienced nothing like this before.

  No one’s ever placed me in a position of importance before.

  Nope.

  Never.

  I was that girl no one noticed.

  I was that girl whose name no one knew.

  Okay, maybe that wasn’t entirely true.

  I had one friend.

  Viola.

  Vivi.

  She was my friend.

  She was the first, and only person who made it a point to say hi and get to know me when I first arrived at Blaineview College. And while I’m not her only friend, she’s been my only friend for the past three years of my uneventful existence here.

  However, my existence at this small, private college was no longer uneventful.

  No Siree Bob.

  It’s now full of events.

  Like Viola standing a few feet away from me screaming at anyone who is daring to have an opinion and is stupid enough to voice it.

  Like complete strangers flashing shots of me with their phone cameras.

  Like the douchebag college tools suddenly scanning my body up and down, eerily.

  Like the elite female cliques suddenly shooting daggers my way as if I’ve somehow offended them.

  Like Aiden Buchanan draping his jacket over my shoulders, in some weird attempt at comfort.

  I mean…Aiden Fucking Buchanan…what in the ever lovin’ hell?

  The only people not staring me down, like an insect on the dissecting table, were Viola, in all her furious glory, the two men who weren’t charging each other-only because they were each being held back by a team of testosterone-and the two teams of said testosterone.

  All these latest current events were happening all around me and my mind was kind of sluggish with the comprehension of all of it.

  And while, yes, this is…or was a college party, I might have been buzzed, but I wasn’t anymore. So, the sluggishness wasn’t because of any mind-altering liquid goodness.

  It’s because, that I shouldn’t be in the middle of anything remotely news worthy.

  Remember…I was the girl that no one notices.

  I kept my head down and stayed out of everyone’s business.

  I go to class and when I’m not in class, I’m working. And when I’m not in class or working, I’m studying or sleeping.

  I. Do. Not. Bother. Anyone…EVER.

  And I’m definitely not the girl that guys fight over.

  So, how was it I’ve landed smack dab in the middle of…

  Well…I don’t know what this is.

  My mind was still trying to process what happened and why.

  My eyes kept taking in the scene, but my mind kept flipping over in confusion. I mean, none of this makes any sense.

  How did Branson Morgan even notice me among the crowd of people here? And why would he choose me, of all people, to flirt with?

  Branson even knew my name. Why would he bother paying enough attention to catch and remember my name?

  And why, in the name of all that’s holy, would Mason Buchanan come flying out of nowhere and start a fight with anyone over me?

  I mean…Mason Buchanan hated me.

  Chapter 1

  Shane~

  Sitting on the couch, pajama pants cladded and everything, I went over my fall semester schedule one last time. I couldn’t believe this was it.

  I was only two semesters away from graduating Blaineview College with a degree in Business Management & Finance and I did it all on my own.

  Sure, it meant I had missed out on the hyped up ‘college life’, but I didn’t mind. Getting a degree and being able to feed myself took precedence over getting sloppy drunk and probably roofied.

  And, yeah, so I was a 22-year-old virgin, but guys were in the same category as getting sloppy drunk and probably roofied. And, no, I wasn’t saving my lady flower for that special someone or waiting for marriage. I just hadn’t gotten
around to the dating phase of my life.

  I suppose I shouldn’t be so cavalier about my virginity, but I wasn’t a big believer in true love and fated destinies. I learned early on that people were replaceable and my life was important to only one person.

  Me.

  Well, me and Jesus Christ, Our Lord and Savior.

  And believe me…I wasn’t a zealous religious nut or anything like that, but growing up in foster homes, I prayed to God a lot. And by His good graces alone, I got through the system avoiding the deep evils that existed within it.

  I wish I could paint a sad, sorrowful story of my parents tragically dying in a car wreck when I was young or something like that, but that wasn’t the case. My parents had both been drug addicts, and they both died with needles in their veins.

  I was five.

  So, I was already used to being neglected by the time I was introduced to my caseworker. Therefore, the systematic neglect hadn’t bothered me much growing up, but the abuse had been something new. But with every lash of the belt and every slap across the face, I bargained with God that I’d gladly suffer the physical abuse as long as it never crossed over to sexual abuse.

  He must have heard me and thought my compromise worthy, because the random beatings continued, but I was lucky enough to survive the rest of the darkness unscathed.

  I had spent the first ten years in foster care keeping my head down and trying to remain invisible. I wanted to belong somewhere permanently, and I thought if I kept myself from being an inconvenience I could stay.

  It doesn’t work like that.

  I learned the hard way that, even if a foster family wanted to keep me, unless they adopted you, they had to comply with the supply and demand of places for lost children.

  So, by the time it was all said and done, I had lived with six different foster families, the last family being where I stayed the longest. They had taken me in when I was 15 and that was where I fostered out of.

  They had been a decent family and sometimes I felt like they really liked me, but by the time they placed me with them, I already had planned out a path for my life and not even their kindness would deter me from it.

  The second I felt comfortable and secure enough to think I wasn’t going to be moved again, I took night classes and went to summer school to knock out my high school credits. When I turned 16, I stopped the night classes and got two after-school jobs, but I still went to summer school.

  By the time I was a senior in high school, I had two grades under my belt boasting of straight A’s and a healthy savings account. I spent a lot of my senior year taking independent college courses and when I graduated, my transcripts made me look like a genius even though it was hard work that should get all the credit.

  When I went to apply for colleges I knew, that even with my academic transcripts being as good as they were, a big college would have been too much for me.

  I knew that as soon as I graduated, I would have no one, and that meant college would be all on me. Even with my savings, it still would not be enough to get me through school and still allow me to eat.

  So, I spent countless hours searching small colleges and comparing four-year programs to six. I looked up scholarships and grants available to children raised in foster care. I researched cost of living near every one of those small colleges. I mean, I researched everything.

  And I do mean eeevvveeerrryyything.

  I was not going to give up on my dream of getting a degree no matter what. And if it took me spending countless hours on the computer researching every college in the country, then that’s what I was going to do.

  When Blaineview first came to my attention, I was going to pass on it immediately. It’s a private college with all its monies privately donated by the attendee’s families. It’s the epitome of rich and elite. It’s not a place I would have seen myself going to.

  But when I saw that they had a program for ‘Social Growth & Community Improvement’, I clicked on the link and it took me to what amounted to a charity project. Basically, every year, Blaineview chose three poor kids to sponsor through college.

  There were a million conditions, and if you became successful, you had to pledge a certain amount of your income to the college for a minimum of ten years. And that stipulation came with its own million conditions. It felt like promising your first born to Rumpelstiltskin.

  The biggest lure was that Blaineview contracted to pay for all academic needs, such as books, project materials, pens, paper…the works. So, not only was your tuition paid for, but you had a supply allowance leaving you to only have to fend for your living costs.

  And that’s where it got super tacky.

  And insulting.

  If you were one of the chosen students of their little charity program, then you weren’t allowed to live in the dorms. You had to find housing off campus and those living expenses were your sole responsibility.

  They didn’t mind paying for your education as long as you paid them back at a later date. But what they did mind was their charity cases daring to mingle above their station.

  You could go to school alongside their perfect children, you just weren’t allowed to engage with them socially.

  The theory…well, my theory was that it was all a test.

  In appreciation for their generosity, you had to prove you were worthy of such generosity.

  But I still applied even with my reservations about the college because I was serious about my path out of poverty and pity. I wasn’t going to let my pride close any doors on possibilities. A bunch of rich kids were not going to intimidate me out of a future.

  Besides, Blaineview was one of the most illustrious and prestigious business and finance colleges in the country. If it had the feeling of an elite-secret-knock kind of school, that’s because it was. Blaineview graduates went on to run Wall Street and the like.

  So, I applied and was shocked all to hell when I had been chosen as one of the three.

  My first day at Blaineview had been a reenactment of my first day in my first foster home. I knew I didn’t belong and so I kept my head down and minded my business.

  The second they had accepted me, I had researched the town of Prescott, Indiana and had a job before classes had even started. I had done all this discussing none of it with The Stones, my foster family. I didn’t need different opinions confusing me or deviating me from the course I set for myself.

  My savings had been enough to secure a small apartment within walking distance of the college and the town had a bus service that could get me to work. Everything looked to be working out and when I couldn’t put off telling Adam and Maggie any longer, I sat down with them and told them everything.

  Maggie had cried and Adam looked sad, but proud.

  But what had surprised me the most was, the day I was set to leave, they had presented me with a check for twenty-four thousand dollars. When I had tried to decline it, Maggie explained that it was the total of the foster payments they received for the three years I was with them. Adam added that they fostered kids because they loved children and not for the money. They felt the money belonged to the kids, and they always gave the money to their foster children to help give them a future.

  I took the check, and it wasn’t until that night, when I was sitting on the bed that came with my furnished apartment, did I allow myself to cry over their generous and kind natures. I still talk to them from time to time, but I’ve seriously spent my college years with little time on my hands for anything other than work and school.

  I juggled eating and sleeping in there too, sometimes.

  And, now, three years later, I was one year away from holding the chance at a real future in my hands. So, yeah, I may have spent the past three years with my nose in a book or a menu in my hand, but it was all going to pay off soon.

  I didn’t regret not going to parties, meeting guys or making friends in the least. Those things hadn’t been a priority growing up, and they sure hadn’t been a priority when I h
ad gotten to college-much to Viola’s dismay.

  I still spent my summers turning my two part-time jobs during the semesters into two full-time jobs to pad my savings account and I still studied like it was my first day of school. For three years, I’ve never veered off my path to have a little something for myself.

  While everyone else was looking for a sense of purpose when they became adults, all I wanted was to secure a home so I would never be homeless or displaced ever again.

  Blaineview was making that happen.

  The only dark spot in all of this was Mason Buchanan.

  Chapter 2

  Mason~

  “Sonofabitch!”

  Bending over, I rubbed the sting out of my right shin.

  “Oh, hey. Sorry about that.”

  I looked up at the sound of my younger brother’s voice. “What the hell are all these boxes doing in the living room, Aiden?”

  He smirked. “The twins told the movers to just unload everything in the living room and they’d put it all always later. And I’m not breaking my back with this shit all by myself.”

  I closed my eyes and let out a deep breath.

  I spent 18 years living in a house with my three brothers, finally making my escape when I left for Blaineview, and now I was right back where I escaped from.

  Now, don’t get me wrong. I loved my brothers. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for them and there’s nothing they wouldn’t do for me. But we were still four grown men living together and that dynamic always had the potential to turn annoying.

  Early on, we all knew we’d be attending Blaineview for college. Our father was an alumnus, and he contributes his entire empire to the education he got here. But I suspected his success was attributed more to the fact that his parents and their parents before them had been wealthy and established, and so my father hadn’t had to do much to secure his ‘empire’.