This Side of Heaven

in the bar were probably readjusting their pants right now.

'Weaknesses can get you killed,' Nate said.

'Oh, but what a way to die!' Romero reared back in his chair, bringing the front legs up off the floor. 'She's bound to get into trouble, alone in a place like this. Maybe I should offer my assistance.'

When Romero lowered his chair back on the floor and started to get up, Nate threw out a restraining hand. 'Don't.'

Romero sat back down, glaring at Nate. 'Hey, old pal, I saw her first. Remember the rules.'

'The rules don't apply here.' Nate looked past Romero, his gaze riveted to the woman who had approached the ta­ble of noisy, swaggering teens. 'But if they did, then she'd be mine. I saw her first.'

'You what?'

'Last night. On the beach.' Nate watched as she placed her hand on a boy's shoulder. What the hell was she doing in a place like the Brazen Hussy? he wondered.

'Tell me more,' Romero said. * * *

The group of teenage boys stared up at her when she ap­proached their table, Casey easing back his chair as if he intended to stand. When she put her hand on Bobby's shoulder, he slumped down in the chair and hung his head so low his chin rested on his chest.

Casey smiled at her, a cocky look on his youthful face. 'What are you doing here, Ms. Porter, checking out the action?'

'Shut up,' Bobby said in a whispered hiss.

'Hey, you two know this sexy freak?' A husky young blonde asked, turning in his chair, sticking out his muscu­ lar chest.

'Yeah, we know her,' Casey said, standing up to face Cyn.

The blonde stood up and walked behind Bobby's chair to stand beside Cyn. 'Introduce us.'

'Lazarus my man, meet Cyn Porter.' Casey's laughter chilled Cyn. Obviously, the boy was already high.

The husky youth reached out and ran the tips of his fin­gers across Cyn's cheek, watching her, obviously waiting for a reaction. 'Cyn, huh?' He laughed, the sound menac­ingly unnerving. 'I like it. Lazarus Jones, at your service, baby doll.'

Cyn's earlier uncertainty when she'd made the decision to come to the Brazen Hussy turned into outright apprehen­sion. Jutting out her chin, she tried to appear undisturbed by the boy's crude come-on.

When she slowly pulled back away from his sweaty touch, he snickered and flashed Cyn a lascivious smile that turned her stomach. 'Tell me, is Cyn ready to sin tonight?'

She looked down at his hand, noticing the thick coiled snake tattoo that began at his knuckles and ran up past his wrist. 'Are you the man Casey and Bobby came here to meet tonight?' Cyn asked, trying to keep the tone of her voice calm and steady.

'Ms. Porter, please...' Bobby knocked Cyn's hand from his shoulder in an effort to stand, but Casey shoved him back down into his chair. 'How did you know where to find us?' Bobby began to tremble.

'You don't really want to be here, do you, Bobby?' Cyn asked. 'Why don't you and I leave, go get a hamburger and talk?'

'Hey, baby doll, you can't leave yet,' Lazarus Jones said, placing his arm around Cyn's waist. 'Besides, you can't have any fun with a kid like him. Hell, he's probably still a virgin.'

Bobby jumped up, his big blue eyes glaring at Lazarus. 'Leave her alone! Come on, Ms. Porter, I'll go with you.'

'Sit down, kid. You came here for a little blow, didn't you? The party hasn't even started yet.' Lazarus pulled Cyn up against him. 'I got enough for you, too, baby doll. Enough of everything.'

When Lazarus rubbed himself against Cyn, fissions of panic exploded in her stomach. Her whistle and Mace were inside her purse, which was inconveniently trapped be­tween her and the muscle-bound delinquent.

'I'm not interested in anything you have, Mr. Jones,' Cyn said, staring him directly in the eye, hoping her false bravado would pay off.

Lazarus released her momentarily, long enough to shove another teen out of his chair and onto the floor. 'Get up and give the lady your seat.'

When Lazarus grabbed Cyn by the arm, she tried to pull away. He held fast. She began raising her leg, slowly, in­tending to knee her overly zealous admirer in the groin. Bobby knotted his hands into fists, thrusting one out in front of him.

Suddenly, Lazarus Jones released Cyn, then dropped to his knees. A very big man stood behind Lazarus, his hands on the boy's shoulders, the pressure from his hold keeping him subdued. Letting out a stream of colorful obscenities, Lazarus squirmed, trying to free himself, but to no avail.

Cyn looked up at her rescuer. Her head began to spin. Her knees bolted. She grabbed the back of a chair to steady herself. It was him. The man on the beach. He was even bigger, darker and more deadly close up.

He looked different fully clothed and with his long hair pulled back into a short, neat ponytail. Wearing faded jeans, a dark cotton shirt, tan sport coat and snakeskin boots, he looked a little bit like a cowboy, Cyn thought. No, not a cowboy—an Indian dressed in white man's garb.

While Lazarus, still on his knees, continued his tirade, the other boys at the table began to get up, one at a time, and move backward. No one else in the Brazen Hussy paid much attention, except another big, dark man a few tables over who was watching the situation with amusement. Cyn couldn't help but notice him when he nodded at her and smiled.

'What would you like for me to do with him?' Nate asked Cyn, tightening his hold on the boy.

'Hey, man, what's she to you?' Casey asked. 'Lazarus didn't mean no harm. He just considers himself a ladies' man.'

''Is that right... Lazarus? Are you a ladies' man?' Nate didn't smile, but the tone of his voice was teasing.

'Let me go,' Lazarus said, snarling his features into a threatening look. 'If you know what's good for you, you'll let me go and get the hell out of here before I kill you.'

Nate did smile then. Cyn thought it was the coldest, most dangerous expression she'd ever seen on a man's face. Nate released his hold on the boy.

Lazarus jumped up, pulled a switchblade from his pocket and thrust it toward Nate in a show of manly triumph. Cyn sucked in her breath and stepped backward. Dear God, what was she doing here? Why had she been stupid enough to think that dressing like a hooker and carrying a can of Mace and a whistle in her purse would protect her? Hadn't Evan's senseless murder taught her anything? The very sight of the knife in Lazarus's hand intensified the terror that had been building inside her for the last few minutes. Since Evan's death, the sight of a knife in another person's hands created irrational fear in Cyn.

The other boys at the table backed up further, even the swaggering Casey. Bobby stood beside Cyn, grabbing her hand, trying to pull her away.

'I don't know what kind of hold you had on me, man,' Lazarus said, swaying from side to side in a macho strut. 'But you came up on me from behind. Things are even now. We're face-to-face, and I'm going to stick you, big man, and watch you fall to your knees.'

Nate knew that he could take care of this cocky young hood quickly and efficiently in the way only a trained warrior could. After all, he knew more ways to kill a man than most people even knew existed. But he had no intention of physically harming this streetwise punk. Scaring a little sense into him, however, was a different matter.

'Please, don't do this.' Cyn heard a pleading female voice say, then realized she had spoken the words. Dear God, this couldn't be happening. It just couldn't! One of these men was going to get hurt, maybe both of them, and it would be her fault. She had thought she could handle the situation, been so confident in her ability to do what Evan would have done. But Evan died like this, a tiny inner voice reminded her, stabbed to death when he'd tried to help a wayward teenager.

While Cyn and the group of boys watched, while the dark man several tables over simply glanced their way, while a couple of barmaids stopped to view the scene, Lazarus Jones lunged toward the older man. The switchblade in his hand gleamed like shiny sterling silver in the smoky, muted light of the barroom. Cyn cried out. Bobby held her hand so tightly she winced from the pain.