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Across from us, Lia eyed our hands and then brought her own to her forehead in a melodramatic motion. “I’m a dark and angsty profiler,”
she intoned. “No,” she countered in a falsetto, bringing her other hand up, “I’m a dark and angsty profiler. Ours is a star-crossed love.”
“Too young to party, just old enough to participate in federal investigations
of serial murder.” Lia let out an elaborate sigh. “Story of my life.”
Home is the people who love you most, the people who will always love you, forever and ever, no matter what.
Some children had security blankets. I was fairly certain Sloane had grown up with a security number.
“Not going to lie,” Michael put in. “I had no idea that was a number.”
“If you make me go up to the suite right now, there’s a very good chance that I will give a full-length performance of The Ballad of Cassie and Dean. Complete with musical numbers.”
I believed that he knew what it was like to be broken. I believed that I wasn’t broken to him.
“Thought I’d see how the other half lives.”
You want to be needed. You want to be useful. You want to matter, even a little.
“Briggs saved my life.” Judd forcibly shifted his eyes away from the man in the picture and turned to look at me. “He saved me, the day he brought me Dean.”
All thoughts cut off as Dean lifted my wrist to his lips, pressing a soft, silent kiss to the once-abused skin.