All In (The Naturals, #3)

by Jennifer Lynn Barnes

“When you lose the remote control to your television, four percent of the time it ends up in the freezer!” Sloane blurted out loudly.

Period sloane

Aaron’s father. My stomach twisted, because if this was Aaron’s father, he was Sloane’s father, too.

Underneath the table, I reached for her hand. She squeezed mine, hard enough to hurt.

My babyyyy

His family. Not hers.

The second thing was Aaron Shaw noticing Camille.

Five minutes after Camille Holt and Tory Howard exited the restaurant, Aaron excused himself from his family’s table.

my gut told me he recognized her.

Aaron might not know that Sloane is your daughter, but you do. You’ve always known.

As if to mark my words, security parted to let Mr. Shaw past. He wasn’t alone. Even from a distance, I recognized the suit-clad pair with him. Sterling and Briggs.

“Believe me,” he said simply. I laid my hand flat on his chest. His hand closed around mine, holding on to it and on to me. “It wasn’t your fault,” Dean said.

You’re nothing like your father. What happened to my mother wasn’t my fault.

You removed the flesh from her bones.

You destroyed her. You eradicated her.

You don’t get to bury her. You don’t get to honor her, you sick son of a bitch.

the suggestion was that this wasn’t a random act of violence.

“He might have known her.”

Did she do a reading for you? Did you go to one of her shows?

No men in her life.

Woman? Friend?

“You make him happy.” Lia narrowed her eyes slightly. “As happy as Dean can be,”

You needed Briggs to pick up your call. You needed to be recognized. You needed to be heard.

“Most people are crappy liars.” Beau let that sink in. “And for a high school dropout, I’m pretty good at math.”

Briggs had told Sloane that he needed her to figure out where the UNSUB would strike next. She had clearly taken that request to heart. You want to be needed. You want to be useful. You want to matter, even a little.

brought her to the bar to get a cherry.” Her hand stilled, and she turned to look at me again. “He brought me cherries,” she said. “Just once.”

I think that maybe, someday, when I’m older, he could not-hate me.”

When you’re older—and better and normal and good,

Stoooppppp

“Don’t tell anyone,” she said. “About the cherries.” “I won’t.”

You always play the odds, I thought, studying Wesley. And based on your background in business, you usually win.

Has to be him

“Lia,” Dean gritted out. “We’re staying here.” “Of course we are,” Lia told him, patting his shoulder. “And I am in no way planning to go no matter what you say, because I always do what I’m told. Goodness knows I have no real attachment to making my own decisions,” she gushed. “Especially when the person issuing orders is you!” We went to the pool.

BYE HAAHAH

“You’re frustrated.” I looked up to see Michael staring at me.

“What do you think is going to happen,” Judd said softly, “when the man you hit and his family go home tonight?”

Red dots. Red streaks. Red on the windows. Sloane turned to beam at us. “Hi, guys!”

“What the hell, Sloane?” Lia recovered her voice first. “I needed a bigger surface to write on.” Sloane popped the cap on and off the marker in her hand. “It’ll come off,” she told us. “Assuming I grabbed the dry-erase marker and not a permanent Sharpie.”

PLEASE LMAO

All energy, she looked at the window and, seeing no place left to write, bounded over to the adjacent wall. “Let’s try some paper this time,” Judd interjected mildly. Sloane stared at him very hard. “Paper,” she said, as if it were a word in another language. “Right.”

I kept thinking, over and over again, that today was the fifth.

My birthday :P

That’s how you think of them, isn’t it? Not as people. As numbers. Things to be quantified. A part of your equation.

Beside her, Dean opened his arms, and Sloane melted into them.

“Raise your hand if you didn’t realize Dean was a hugger,” Michael said, raising his own hand. Lia snorted.

“Based on my calculations…” she started to say, and then she just launched herself at me. We might as well start calling this game Two Truths, a Lie, and a Hug,

“This is a performance. This is art.” I thought of Alexandra Ruiz, her hair spread out around her on the pavement; of the stage magician,

I could hear it in Sloane’s voice—she needed to be right. She needed to have done this one thing right.

“Tell him the pattern isn’t complete yet. Make him listen.” He never listens to you. He’s never really seen you.

“I’ll find it,” she said again. “I promise.”

home isn’t a place, Cassie. Home is the people who love you most.”

The next thing I know, she’s turned the music up as loud as it can go, and the two of us are out of the car, and we’re dancing, right there on the side of the highway, in the snow.

“You would have what?” Lia cut in protectively. Sloane was our family, more than she would ever be his, and right now, she was vulnerable and raw and bleeding.

Lia didn’t trust strangers, and she especially didn’t trust this stranger—

Before Aaron could reply, the door to the office opened. Judd was standing there. A...

“I have friends in the FBI. I’m the one who suggested Sloane for your Agent Briggs’s little program.”

None of this is Sloane’s fault, either.

You can’t just pretend the pattern doesn’t exist and hope it goes away.” The way he pretends you don’t exist, my brain translated. The way he ignores you.