Page 60 of Sachie's Hero

“God, I hope not,” Teller said. “I’m considering doing a stakeout instead of going into the bar. It would be easier to corner Travis alone for questioning.”

“And you won’t have to put Sachie in danger by taking her into the bar,” Hawk added.

“Exactly,” Teller said. “George’s four-man team can wait outside as well. If we need to go in, they’ll be there.”

“I like that better than storming a bar full ofmotorcycle club gang members. I ran the bar name by Swede. He’s doing research now.”

“Good. He’s next on my list to call.”

“Then I won’t hold you up,” Hawk said. “Make sure you work with George’s team and gear up with comm equipment. You’ll want to be able to communicate in case you need to split up.”

“Roger,” Teller said. “I’ll let you know how it goes.”

“Out here,” Hawk said.

Teller ended that call and placed one to George, arranging a time and place to meet. George had communications equipment that would help them keep in touch without relying on their cell phones. The Brotherhood Protectors had an array of radio headsets, much like they’d used on special operations missions all over the world. When they met, they could discuss the plan and be ready for whatever scenario unfolded.

Before he could call Swede, the bathroom door opened, and Sachie emerged in a loud of steam, wearing a long, loose T-shirt that hung down to mid-thigh and with a towel wrapped turban-style around her hair. Barefoot and makeup-free, she was sexy as hell.

For a moment, all Teller could do was stare at her, noting her long, slender legs and the way her breasts made points against the fabric of the shirt.

When he brought his focus up to her eyes, she met his gaze and held it.

“The bathroom’s all yours,” she said softly.

Teller wanted to say something but couldn’t think of anything other than how beautiful she was. Unsure of what her response might be, and not wanting to make things awkward, he bit down hard on his tongue, grabbed his bag and ducked into the bathroom.

He spent a solid ten minutes beneath a cool spray, hoping to bring his desire in check. By the time he’d dried off and dressed in a pair of shorts, he was able to walk out of the bathroom without an embarrassing tent in his shorts. He considered that a win.

Until he stepped into the room and found Sachie seated on one of the beds, one of her legs stretched out in front of her, the other bent. She’d pulled the turban off her head and had brushed her damp, long blond hair back from her forehead, exposing the fine bones of her cheeks and the length of her neck.

Yeah, he wasn’t as in control of his desire as he’d thought. As his groin tightened, Teller turned away.

His cell phone chirped, indicating an incoming text. It gave Teller something else to think about other than his obsession with the woman on the bed. The text was from Swede. He’d been the next call he was going to make after he’d showered. Hebrought up the message, which was an image of a tattoo on a man’s arm. The tattoo was a pyramid with an eye in the middle that was strangely familiar.

Teller’s phone chirped with another incoming text from Swede. This one had a link.

An article appeared about a gang in Honolulu called the All-Seeing Gang, suspected of working with the Sinaloa cartel out of Mexico, trafficking drugs in Hawaii. Members were identified by tattoos of a pyramid with an eye in the middle. Teller scrolled down the article, and another image of a pyramid tattoo appeared with an eye in the middle.

“That’s the same tattoo as the guy who stole my purse today.” Sachie had come to stand beside Teller and peered over his arm at the article on his cell phone. She looked up into Teller’s eyes. “That gang member was right there in front of the Boys’ Club. Do you think they’re pressuring kids to help them push drugs?”

“Could be,” Teller said.

“When Luke was in my office that day, he talked about trading one drug for another and not wishing addiction on anyone. Luke had been court-ordered to see me after being caught with cocaine. He’d gone through rehab and had been clean for a while. But he needed help with mood swings. He was diagnosedwith bipolar disorder and was prescribed medication to help him control the swings.”

Sachie paced the length of the room and back, her head down, her brow furrowed. “He’d gone off the medication. He said something about trading one drug for another and that he never wanted to get back into drugs and didn’t want anything to do with any drugs. I thought it was all about his medications. But if someone was trying to get him to distribute drugs by threatening to hurt his best friend, I could see why he was so distraught.” She looked up, her gaze meeting Teller’s. “He didn’t want to deal drugs, but he didn’t want them to hurt his best friend. They’d have no reason to hurt his friend if he wasn’t around to intimidate.” She shook her head, tears welling in her eyes.

Teller couldn’t stand to see her so sad. He closed the distance between them and pulled her into his arms. “Why didn’t he go to the police?”

As he pulled her close, Sachie’s hands rested on his chest. “He said he couldn’t go to the police.”

“Did he say why? Were they threatening harm to his friend if he told anyone?”

She shook her head. “He didn’t say.”

“I’m surprised he didn’t go to your cop friend, Roland.” Teller held her for several minutes and even pressed a soft kiss to the top of her hair. “Hopefully,we’ll learn more when we go to the Leather & Chains bar.” However, the more he thought about it, the less he wanted to take Sachie. Drug cartels and people who dealt with them were ruthless.

Teller’s cell phone rang, forcing him to give up his hold on Sachie.

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