This Side of Heaven

open. When the old man caught a glimpse of Nate, he emerged from the black Cadillac.

Nate walked over to him, Emilio following. 'I don't know what your stake in this is, Carranza, but I promise you that if Ryker harms Cyn Porter, your life won't be worth a damn.'

Ramon Carranza's dark eyes clashed with Nate's un­friendly glare. 'One of my former business associates is in­debted to Ryker.' He placed his dark, weathered hand on Nate's arm.

Instantly Nate retreated, jerking away, repulsed by the other man's touch. 'What you're telling me isn't news. It's no secret that Ryker is part of the Marquez syndicate.'

'You do not want to go up against these people alone.'

Although the air was warm, almost balmy, Nate felt a shivering chill hit him. He hated Ramon Carranza and ev­erything he stood for. The very thought that this man was deriving some sort of sick pleasure out of helping Ryker, by tormenting him, by threatening Cyn, made Nate want to rip out the man's heart. 'Stay out of my way if you know what's good for you.'

Gripping Nate's arm tightly, Carranza gave him a hard, penetrating stare. The two men looked at each other, eye-to-eye, man-to-man. 'He plans to kill her regardless of what you do. He simply wants you there to witness her death.'

The truth of Carranza's words ripped through Nate like one of his sharp, deadly daggers. 'You've delivered Ry-ker's message, now you can take one back to him. Tell him that I'm on my way, and before I'm through with him, he'll be begging to die.'

Releasing Nate's arm, Carranza slipped into the dark, private confines of his limo. Nate kicked the door closed with his foot. Every fiber of his being pulsated with a rage born of uncontrollable anger and a fear the likes of which he'd never known. If anything happened to Cyn... * * *

Cyn could feel the rounded muzzle of Ryker's gun as he jabbed it into her back. Stumbling in the darkness, she steadied herself as they walked along the arched portico. Why, she wondered, had this crazy man taken her back to Sweet Haven, back to Nate's house? Where was Nate? Was he still at the hospital visiting Nick Romero? She had no idea what time it was, though she suspected it was near mid­night.

When she slowed her steps, Ryker poked her in the back again. 'Keep walking. We're almost there.'

Cyn clutched her purse against her stomach and contin­ued moving, praying for the opportunity to use Mimi's au­tomatic that still lay nestled inside her leather bag. Violence had been thrust upon her, and her only chance for survival might well lie within herself. Did she have the strength and courage to fight back? Undoubtedly, Ryker hadn't even considered the possibility that she might be armed.

If she could manage to get hold of Mimi's gun, would she have the guts to use it? Was she capable of killing a man? Two men? she wondered, remembering that Bedford was still with them. Could she, to save herself, and perhaps Nate, go against her lifelong beliefs?

'Where are you taking me?' Cyn asked, but she already knew. There was anger and pain and fear inside the walls of the old mission as surely as there was passion and love and fulfillment.

'Just shut up and keep walking.' Ryker's voice held a nervous edge.

With Bedford standing outside in the dark shadows, Ry­ker pushed open the storage room door with his shoulder and shoved Cyn inside. She turned on them, irrational fear controlling her actions. Like a madwoman, she flung her­self at him. With one deadly backhanded slap, he knocked her to the floor.

Scrambling to find her purse where it had landed beside her, Cyn snapped the catch and rummaged around inside, unable to see in the darkness. Her fingers encountered the cold, deadly metal. Clutching the automatic in her hand, Cyn pointed it at Ryker. In that one heart-stopping mo­ment, she knew that, if necessary, she would kill in order to survive.

With trained instincts, Ryker intercepted her attack. He raised his leg, expertly kicking the gun out of her hand. Cyn's fingers stung from the sharp blow as she listened to the sound of metal when the gun rattled across the stone floor.

Bedford's laughter rang out loud and clear. In the semi-darkness, she could barely make out his stocky form as he entered the room, bent down and picked up her gun.

'She's a gutsy broad,' the DEA agent said. 'She al­most got you.'

Ryker growled, like a wounded animal. Cyn could see him, his one malevolent blue eye sparkling in the moon­light that poured in from the open doorway. Flinging his hand backward, he brought it down across the bottom of her face. Cyn jerked from the force of his blow. Blood filled her mouth. She spit it out, then ran her tongue over her split lip.

'Be a good girl, and I'll let you live to see your lover.' Ryker motioned to Bedford and the two men turned and left the room.

Once the door slammed shut, Cyn scrambled to her feet and made her way across the room. Standing between the door and the partially boarded window, she listened to the muffled sound of male voices. She could make out another voice beside Ryker's and Bedford's. Who had joined them? she wondered. How many opponents would Nate have to face when he arrived? And she knew, without a doubt, that Ryker had contacted Nate, and that Nate would come for her.

When Cyn heard the door opening, she jumped, quickly moving toward the window. Ian Ryker came in carrying a gas lantern, which he set on top of some stacked boxes. Bedford followed, but no one else. Slowly, Cyn edged her way toward the corner of the south wall. She wanted to huddle into a ball and fall to her knees. But she didn't. She braced her back against the cool coquina wall and glared at Ryker, her eyes beginning to adjust to the new light.

He watched her with the intent curiosity of a cat study­ing a trapped mouse. She could almost hear him smacking his lips. As cold, deadly fear raced through her, she fought to maintain some semblance of composure. She would not let this animal get the best of her.

Hearing a noise, she glanced quickly over at Bedford, who busied himself pilfering through an assortment of old furniture. Suddenly she saw that a long, thick rope lay draped over his shoulder.

'Who were you talking to outside?' she asked, her voice steady despite her ravaged nerves.

'Curious little girl, aren't you?' Ryker smiled. His mouth was broad, his lips thick and his big teeth had a wide space between the front two. 'I have powerful friends who are...assisting me. As soon as the Conquistador arrives, we will be taking a little helicopter ride to a safe place where I can kill you both, very slowly.'

She knew that his powerful friends must be the Marquez family, men to whom killing was as commonplace as breathing. And perhaps Ramon Carranza was another friend. If rumors were true, the charming old Cuban could be as deadly as a poisonous snake. 'Nate has powerful friends, too. He has the United States government behind him.'

She hated the sickening smile on Ryker's face, as if he could taste her fear and was gaining strength from it. 'Na­than Hodges will come alone. He knows that I will kill you if he does not. My friends are keeping watch, even now, for any sign of betrayal.'

'Nate isn't stupid. He knows you'll kill me regardless of what he does.' Why are you trying to reason with a mad­man? she asked herself. There was no answer.

'Ah, yes, but he will play the game by my rules because he thinks he can outsmart me and keep you alive.'

Ryker moved toward her. Her body hugged the wall. Cyn stared at him, trying not to react to his nauseatingly sweet smile. Reaching out, he ran his index finger over her chin, down her throat and into her blouse, stopping between her breasts. When he popped open the top button of her blouse, Cyn glared at him, reaching deep inside herself for cour­age. Acting on the revolt she felt, Cyn spat in his face.

Wiping away the spit with a large white handkerchief he had slipped out of his pocket, Ryker laughed, then reached out and grabbed Cyn by the shoulders. He dragged her across the room and flung her into a rickety cane- bottomed chair that Bedford had set upright.

'Tie our little hellcat down,' Ryker said. 'Tie her hands behind her back and secure her feet to the chair legs.'

Bedford obeyed, manhandling Cyn when she tried to re­sist. Within minutes, Cyn was bound. Fighting the over­whelming fear of helplessness, she opened her mouth on a terrified scream.

Ryker ripped his handkerchief in two pieces and tossed them to Bedford. 'Here. Shut her up.'

Bending down, Bedford stuck half the moist handker­chief inside Cyn's mouth. He laughed when she gagged on the cloth. After spreading the remaining material across her lips and knotting it behind her head, Bedford looked