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the contractions continued. They consumed her and she let them, giving herself up.

And then it was done. Mick returned her clothing to rights and kissed her. Soft gentle kisses tendered along her cheekbone and jaw as he sat up. Rumpled and disheveled, she did the same, quickly scanning the camera feeds before chastising herself for getting so carried away.

What in the bloody hell was wrong with her—and dear Lord, now she was talking like the man.

Mick cleared his throat, got slowly to his feet, unable to stifle a groan. "Can you point me to the bathroom?"

She flushed to the roots of her hair. "Right past the kitchen. There's aspirin and Advil in the medicine cabinet." She'd probably come close to killing him, as injured as he already was. "Can I do anything?"

"Uh, no." He grunted, winced. " This I'd better take care of on my own."

This time the blush crawled over every inch of exposed skin. She looked down, mortified that she hadn't once thought of his pain. Or his pleasure. And just when she thought to offer, she heard Liberty stir. "I'm usually not this selfish, Mick. I'm really not."

"Neva, don't worry. I'll let you make it up to me later." A hole, please. In the middle of the floor. Now. Sure.

"Okay."

He moved beyond the love seat, stopped, looked back. "When I get back, I'm going to need details on your network."

"My network?" she asked inanely.

"If you want me co see what I can do to help."

She nodded because she had no brain, looked up at the screens in time to see Candy hop from Ed's truck and Spencer drive in behind. She glanced back to tell Mick she'd get the info together.

But he was already gone.

Eleven

Arms hugging her middle, Candy stood next to Neva's truck, watching Ed pull out and Spencer pull in. Dealing with the first man had been emotionally exhausting. She wasn't sure she had it in her now to deal with number two. Especially out here in the open when she had no idea what would come out of her mouth. And so she started walking toward the Barn.

Driving Holden's car earlier, all she'd been able to think about was Spencer's daddy catching her behind the wheel of the stolen BMW. She'd followed near enough to Ed's bumper that anyone blowing past wouldn't have time to examine closely who was hidden by the tinted glass as the sweet ride burned up the road. That didn't mean she hadn't held her breath each time Ed had slowed for a curve or taken an unexpected turn. She'd nearly rear-ended him twice.

They'd left Holden's car sitting in the middle of the property he owned outside of E.T., and left no other tracks behind. No footprints or tread marks from Ed's truck. No fingerprints or other obvious trace evidence. At least nothing the county sheriff would be able to find with the forensic technology he had at his disposal.

If it had been any other time of year, Candy would've prayed hard for a good rain to wash away any lingering proof of her involvement. She knew she faced prison time should the work she did with Neva be discovered. But Jesus Lord, she did not want to find herself behind bars for being in possession of a stolen vehicle.

If she were caught, that was the future she faced because there was no way she'd rat out Liberty for taking the car. Not when the girl was facing a nasty future with that whack job Holden Wagner in her bed. Candy's stomach had been rolling since hearing that particular news.

And it was thinking about Liberty looking down the barrel of that ugly gun and listening to Ed mouth about Neva getting in trouble with a man like Mick Savin that had Candy's claws sharpened and flexed. Ed knew better. He knew what the Earnestine girls were up against. Yet he didn't seem to give a rat's ass about Liberty. He only wanted to know why Mick was still at the house.

And now here came Spencer when Candy was so not in the mood to deal with men after the good doctor and Holden and yesterday's run-in with the sheriff. Not to mention how the situation in the township had her thinking about all the perverts she'd known in her life. She just knew this wasn't going to go well. Nope. Not today. Not now.

Seeing that she was heading to her place, he followed, teasing her by driving behind instead of giving her a ride or passing her and moving on ahead. She wasn't up for his teasing. She had too much on her mind. Spencer couldn't know that, but that didn't mean she was going to cut the boy so much as an inch of slack.

Taking him down to her place wasn't particularly smart since Neva was still upstairs with Mick and the Mitchell girl, but right now Candy wanted to go home. Her home. Her haven. She needed to surround herself with all the things that made her feel safe, hating—but admitting—that sweet Spencer Munroe was way too big a part of that.

What in the world was she doing loving a white boy who hadn't even yet turned twenty?

She walked past the patio to the back of the Barn and stopped in her apartment's doorway, turning as he braked, parked, and locked up his truck. Looking at him as he climbed down and walked toward her, she wondered why she and Neva trusted their bodies so easily to men after all that they'd witnessed in their lives.

This thing with Mick was the first time since knowing Neva that Candy had seen her girlfriend show enough interest in a man to involve him in her life at a level that had nothing to do with her orgasms. If Mick made Neva happy even before she'd taken him to bed, Candy didn't want to be standing up when that earth moved.

Her own case was just as out

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