Page 36 of Sachie's Hero

“Except being proven right?” She looked up into his gaze. “That nothing is permanent? I hate to break it to you, but you’re right. Nothing’s permanent. Sometimes, you have to take a risk and go for what you want deep down, even if you only get to have it for a short time. It’s better to have some joy in life than to have none at all.”

He didn’t say anything for a long time.

Sachie suspected she’d bored him with her psychobabble. She closed her eyes and pretended she was finally going to sleep.

A moment later, Teller said, “You chose the right field to go into.”

“I hated my childhood. I didn’t want other kids to hate theirs if I could do anything to make it better.” She lay her arm on the bed, her fingersbrushing against his thigh. “I should’ve done more for Luke.”

“You couldn’t have known he would do what he did.”

“I knew he wasn’t in a good place. His whole demeanor changed over the course of a three-week period.”

“You can’t keep beating yourself up over it.”

“I’m having a hard time letting it go. My nightmares are a continuous reminder, like I’m supposed to see something I didn’t see then, learn something I can use to keep it from happening to someone else.”

Teller captured her hand in his. “Going over the event before you sleep isn’t going to keep you from having a nightmare. Think of that house you’ll have someday and the puppy you’ll play with in the backyard.”

She frowned.

“Go on,” he urged. “Close your eyes and think of him. Tell me what he looks like.”

She closed her eyes and tried to imagine her future puppy.

“What color is he?” Teller persisted.

“Sheis kind of a reddish-brown.” Sachie was making it up, but in so doing, she could imagine a puppy that color.

“Long-haired or short-haired?”

“Long,” she said.

“Must be a golden retriever…?”

“No, it’s smaller than that,” she said. “More like a Pomeranian with floofy long hair.”

“Now, describe the yard,” he said. “Is it a lush green lawn or a garden like the one at your cottage?”

Sachie spent the next few minutes dreaming up a puppy, yard and house, all with her eyes closed. Eventually, she described the inside of the house, which had a kitchen and living room with windows overlooking the ocean. By the time she got to the bedroom, she was so sleepy, she imagined climbing into bed with a smile and falling asleep beside a handsome, gentle man who spoke in warm, gentle tones that soothed rather than hurt.

Teller satbeside Sachie as she drifted into sleep, her hand in his, her chest rising and falling in a steady, relaxed rhythm. He closed his eyes, thinking about all that he’d learned about this amazing woman and the terrifying things that had happened to her that day. He worried that whoever was after her would somehow slip past his defenses as had almost happened with the drone.

Honolulu would present its own challenges. The city was big and chaotic, with tourists crowding thestreets day and night. Protecting Sachie would be even harder there than on the Big Island.

He’d do whatever it took to keep her safe. She deserved no less. He couldn’t erase the abuse of her childhood, but he could do his best to make sure she had a chance at her future.

Sometime in the midst of worrying whether he’d be enough, Teller must have fallen asleep. A muffled cry jerked him awake. He leaped from the bed, fists clenched, ready to take on the enemy.

As he searched the room in the starlight streaming through the French doors, he realized he was alone but for the woman lying in the bed behind him.

Sachie’s head moved from side to side, her eyes closed, tears slipping from the corners. “No,” she murmured. “Please. No.”

Teller sat on the bed beside her and laid his hand on her shoulder. “Sachie. Wake up.”

“No. Please don’t,” she whispered. “Let me help.”

“Sachie, sweetheart, it’s just a dream.” He shook her shoulder gently. “Wake up.”

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