Page 1

CHAPTER 1

The tortured teen buried his face in his hands and hunched over in the chair. “I didn’t want to hurt anyone.”

Sachie’s heart squeezed hard in her chest. She leaned forward and touched the young man’s arm. “You don’t have to hurt anyone, Luke.”

When he’d shown up at her office as she was closing the door to leave for the day, he’d been distraught, almost what she considered manic. His hands shook, and his eyes were wide and wild.

She hadn’t had the heart to tell him to come back in the morning. Instead, she’d let him in, ushering him into the room where they’d conducted their counseling sessions.

Now, he glanced up at her, his eyes filled with tears. “I’m just like my father. I’ll always be like him. What choice do I have? I have his DNA; I’m hardwired like him. I can’t escape it.”

“Yes, you can,” Sachie assured him. “If you stay on your medications, you can control the ups and downs of being bipolar. You won’t be as susceptible to the mood swings. But you have to stay on the meds. They help you regulate the chemicals in your brain that are making you feel the way you do. You don’t have to do it on your own.”

Luke shook his head. “It was only a matter of time before something bad happened, and I lost my shit. I knew someone would get hurt, and I’ll never forgive myself. It’s no use. I can’t have a real life. I can never trust myself with a girl. I mean, look what I did to Kylie.” He waved his hand in the air. “The girl I care more about than anyone—I put her in the hospital.”

Sachie’s stomach clenched. “What happened, Luke?”

Again, he buried his head in his hands. “I never wanted to hurt her. She was my everything, and I hurt her!” He leaned back and stared at his hands. “I hurt the girl I love. Instead of her, I should’ve hurt myself.” He pounded his fist into his forehead. “Why am I this way? Why can’t I be normal?” He continued to pound his fist into his forehead, leaving a red mark that grew bigger with each blow.

“Luke, you can’t beat yourself up.” Sachie reached out to capture his wrist in her hand, halting his assault on himself .

He jerked his hand out of her grasp and leaped to his feet.

Sachie backed away several steps, giving herself distance from the tall, gangly teen. During their sessions, he’d never hit her, but hadn’t he just admitted to putting his girlfriend in the hospital?

He paced away from her. “Whatever gene it is causing me to be this way needs to stop here.” Luke spun and faced her, his cheeks red enough to match the patch on his forehead. “I could never have a kid of my own, knowing I could pass this down to him. I wouldn’t wish this mental disease on anyone. It’s genetic, I tell you. I don’t want to end up like my father, in jail for murdering my wife. He killed my mother in one of his rages. That’s how he ended up in prison. That’s how I ended up in foster care.” He pivoted on his heel and faced the wall. A print of a Hawaiian beach with stately palm trees hung in front of him, a scene meant to instill a sense of serenity.

He swept his hand across the print, knocking it off its hook. The picture landed with a crash on the floor, the frame shattering into pieces.

Sachie fought to remain calm, though her heart hammered against her ribs. She eyed the door, gauging the number of steps it would take to reach it should she need to make a quick escape. The problem was that she’d have to pass near the teen on her way out. He’d hurt his girlfriend. He might hurt Sachie .

He turned to face her, his brow furrowed, deep shadows beneath his eyes as if he hadn’t slept in days. “Everything was going better than it ever had. I was in school, doing my community service at the Honolulu Boys’ Club after school, and I saw Kylie in the evenings and on weekends. I even liked working with the younger kids.” He grimaced. “I almost believed I could have a real life. I could be different.” He snorted and strode past Sachie to stand, staring out the window.

The view from the window was of a garden filled with colorful bougainvillea, a stark contrast to the teen’s dark and dangerous mood.

Sachie took another step backward, edging toward the door while Luke’s back was to her. She hated feeling defensive. Her job was to help this young man, not run from him. She couldn’t bail on him like so many others had. But damn. Her receptionist had left before her. Sachie was alone, with no one to help her if Luke turned violent toward her. She sucked in a breath and let it out slowly. Panicking wouldn’t help her or Luke. “Did something happen at school that set you off?”

The young man shook his head, rocking back and forth, his hands rubbing against his thighs in nervous thrusts.

“Did something happen at the Boys’ Club?” Sachie persisted.

Luke stopped rocking and stiffened.

Had she struck a nerve ?

His fingers curled into fists.

“Something happened there,” Sachie stated. “You were angry when you left to meet Kylie.”

“I wasn’t angry with her,” Luke said as if pushing the words through clenched teeth.

“Talk to me,” Sachie urged. “Tell me what happened. Maybe I can help you sort through your feelings. We can go through the techniques I showed you to help you manage your anger.”

He pounded his fist into the window, cracking the glass.

Sachie jumped, emitting a startled yelp.

“Didn’t you hear me?” he yelled, staring down at his bloody fist. “I’ll never be able to manage my anger. I’m damaged. You can’t fix me.”

“Luke, the medicine helps—if you stay on it. You can’t just quit taking the medication. You need it to allow you to live that normal life you want. You can have the marriage, children and a career if you stay on the drugs that regulate the serotonin in your brain.”

“That’s just it.” He spun toward her. “I got into drugs because I felt like I had multiple personalities. There was me, and then there was the other me. The other me couldn’t control his moods. When I got caught with the drugs, I was ordered into rehab to get off the drugs.”

“And you did,” Sachie reminded him. “You’ve been clean for months.”

“And yet, you tell me I have to be on drugs to get the voices in my head to stop making me crazy?” His brow twisted. “Trade one drug for another? No. I can’t live like that. The way I see it, I’m one missed pill away from killing someone.”

“You aren’t going to kill anyone,” Sachie said. In all her sessions with the young man, she’d never felt threatened or afraid. Until now. “Self-medicating with cocaine wasn’t the answer.”

He gave a bark of laughter. “That’s the one thing I can agree with. It was hard to let go of the mind-numbing effects of cocaine. It was so damned hard. I don’t wish that shit on anyone. And I never want to be involved in helping others...what did you call it?” His eyes narrowed. “Self-medicate. I kicked it, but not everyone can. I really thought I’d won that battle and never had to go back there again.”

“And you don’t have to go back,” Sachie tried to reassure him.

“I can’t. I won’t. It makes me angry all over just thinking about it. No matter what happens to me, I will never go back to that life, even if it means losing everything and leaving me with the voices in my head.”

Sachie frowned. “Did someone at the Boys’ Club try to give you drugs?”

Luke’s gaze avoided hers. “Kylie didn’t understand. All she wanted to do was help me. I couldn’t let her. She wouldn’t listen.”

“So you hit her?” Sachie whispered the question .

Tears welled in Luke’s eyes. “I didn’t mean to hurt her. I was trying to stop her. If she’d done what she was going to do...” His voice trailed off as his fist clenched, causing more blood to ooze from the cuts sustained from the cracked window.

Sachie fought back the urge to run from the room and call 911. “Luke, did you hit her?”

He continued as if in a trance, his voice monotone, his gaze on the bleeding hand. “When I grabbed her arm, she jerked away and fell, hitting her head against the corner of the building.” He stared at the thick red drops now falling to the floor. “There was so much blood...”

“You said you put her in the hospital.” Sachie needed to know Kylie was getting medical attention. “How did she get there?”

Luke raised his head, looking directly at Sachie but not connecting, as if he was looking at an image burned into his mind. “I took her to the emergency room.”

Sachie hated to ask but had to, “Was she breathing?”

Luke nodded. “I made sure they got her into an exam room. Once I knew she was in good hands, I left. She won’t have to worry. I’ll never hurt her again.”

“Oh, Luke,” Sachie moved closer and touched his arm. “You didn’t hurt her on purpose. It was an accident.”

“No.” He shrugged off her hand. “I can’t do this anymore. If I can’t trust myself, why should anyone else? ”

“Luke, you came to me for help,” Sachie said. “Let me help you.”

“There’s no help for someone like me.”

“There is help for people like you, Luke.” Sachie stood still, wanting to take another step toward him but knowing it might make him feel like he was backed into a corner. She was losing him. “You need medication that targets the specific chemicals in your brain, not street drugs. And you need to take the medicine every day for the rest of your life.”

Luke jammed his hands into his pockets. “It doesn’t matter,” he said, his voice flat, defeated. “Kylie will never take me back. Her parents will file a restraining order to keep me from seeing her if they don’t send me to jail. And I don’t blame them. I wouldn’t let my daughter see me ever again. Not after what I did to her.” He turned back to Sachie, his shoulders drooping. “I don’t need the drugs, and I won’t be coming back to see you. Take me off your calendar and fill the appointment time with someone you can help.”

Her stomach clenched. “Luke, you have to keep coming to me. The judge ordered you to see me once a week for six months. If you don’t, I have to report that you skipped out.”

Luke wasn’t a bad kid. He was mentally ill. The medication he’d been taking would help him where so many other mentally ill people didn’t have that option. “Take your meds. You’ll be better.” She waved a hand toward him. “ You were good for the three months you were on it regularly, weren’t you?”

He nodded. “But it doesn’t matter anymore. I’ve blown it with Kylie. Hell, I nearly killed her. They probably won’t let me go back to the school. I’m done with all of this.” He gave her a grave look and turned to glance out the window. “Thanks for trying.”

“You wouldn’t have come to me if you didn’t want help,” Sachie said. “Please, let me help you.”

With his back to her, he shook his head. “I didn’t come for help. You’ve been good to me, and I knew you would listen to what I had to say. The only help I need is for you to deliver a message to Kylie.”

“You didn’t hurt her intentionally, Luke,” Sachie insisted. “You should deliver the message yourself.”

“No. Her parents will send the police to find me. I don’t have much time.” He turned to Sachie. “Tell Kylie that I’m sorry for dragging her into my shitty life and that I’m sorry for hurting her. She might think I’m selfish and not thinking about her, but this is the only way I can be certain I’ll never hurt another living soul.”

His voice was so emotionless, faraway and haunting.

Sachie’s heart pinched hard in her chest. “Luke, tell her yourself.”

“Ms. Jones, please, promise me you’ll tell her all that and that I loved her more than life itself.”

“But— ”

“Please,” he said, his voice choking on what sounded like a sob.

Sachie’s heart broke at the sound. “I promise. But what are you going to ? —”

Before she could finish her sentence, Luke pulled a gun from his pocket. “I’m sorry,” he said.

Stunned, Sachie didn’t have time to react before the teen pressed the barrel against his temple and pulled the trigger.

Bang!

“No!” Sachie Moore yelled and sat up straight in her bed. Drenched in sweat, her heart racing, it took her several seconds to realize she wasn’t in her office back on Oahu.

Moonlight streamed through the window, casting a silvery-blue patch of light across her bedroom floor. This had been the first night since she’d moved to the Big Island that she hadn’t left the light on in the bathroom. She’d purposely left the curtains pulled back for just enough natural light from the moon and stars to chase away the darkness she’d feared since that fateful day when her patient, Luke Brown, had stood three feet away from her and shot himself in the head.

The dream had been so real. She glanced down at the pale blue oversized T-shirt she’d worn as a nightgown, looking for the blood that had splattered all over her hair, face and the white button-down blouse she’d been wearing that day in her office.

No dark droplets stained her T-shirt. She raised a shaking hand to her face to brush away the droplets that weren’t there.

“Just a dream,” she murmured, the soft sound of her voice echoing loudly in the silent room.

Though she had to go to work in a few hours, she knew she wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep. Not when she risked sliding right back into the same nightmare that had plagued her for the past few weeks.

To say she’d been traumatized would have been an understatement. She’d canceled all appointments for a week and had walked around her apartment in a daze, going through the motions. Sachie hadn’t wanted to close her eyes for fear of reliving the nightmare.

The overwhelming feeling of having failed her patient had left her gutted. Failure, nightmares and lack of sleep made her drunk with exhaustion. She’d become paranoid and suspected she was hallucinating a stalker. After a week, she’d tried to go back to work only to lock herself in her office and cancel the second week of appointments. How could she counsel others when she couldn’t help herself?

At the end of the second week of being afraid of a stalker that never seemed to fully materialize, Sachie was a wreck. She’d begun to think Luke’s ghost had come back to haunt her. When her friend Kalea had suggested she come to the Big Island to regroup, she’d closed her office in Honolulu, packed two suitcases with only the essentials and moved to the Big Island. Permanently.

Sachie hoped the change would give her peace and a chance to start over without the daily reminders of her failure. And maybe, just maybe, her ghost stalker would disappear completely.

Her heart still racing, Sashie threw back the sheet and swung her legs over the side of the bed. In the muted light from the stars outside, she padded barefoot to the little cottage’s compact kitchen and grabbed a bottle of orange juice from the refrigerator. After twisting off the top, she debated getting a glass out of the cabinet, shrugged and turned the bottle up, taking a long drink of citrusy freshness. As she lowered the bottle, a movement out of the corner of her eye made her turn toward the window at the side of the house.

A dark, familiar face stared at her through the glass.

Sachie screamed.

The bottle of orange juice slipped from her fingers and crashed to the floor. The glass exploded, sending shards of glass and juice in every direction.

When cold juice splashed against her feet and ankles, Sachie darted a glance downward.

In the single second when she’d looked down and back up, the face in the window had disappeared.

“No. No. No,” she murmured. “This is not happening. It wasn’t real.”

Afraid to move for fear of cutting her bare feet on the broken glass, Sachie hiked her bottom up onto the counter and scooted across the surface to the far end, closest to the bedroom. When she was fairly certain she’d gotten past the remnants of glass, she eased to the floor and ran into the bedroom. Quickly pulling on a pair of tennis shoes, she ran back through the kitchen, pausing only long enough to snatch a butcher knife from the drawer.

Armed and ready to face her tormentor, she twisted the deadbolt, flung open the door and ran out into the night, coming to a halt beside the SUV Kalea had loaned her until she could sell hers back on Oahu and purchase another on the Big Island. Tired of being scared. Tired of reliving the same nightmare and ready to face whatever it was, she stood with the knife held in front of her, straining to see into the darkest shadows.

Nothing moved, not even the usual night breeze. Birds were smart and asleep. Even the chickens that ran free over the island weren’t awake yet. The clatter of the night insects was eerily silent.

Standing in the starlight, dressed in a baggy T-shirt and tennis shoes, holding a butcher knife like a crazed killer, Sachie wanted to scream her frustration.

With houses close on either side of the cottage, she didn’t dare let loose on that scream, proving to her neighbors and herself she was losing her mind. No. She’d have to admit the traumatic incident had done more than splatter blood on her skin and clothes. It had left a lasting impression on her psyche, causing her to hallucinate.

She lowered her arm to her side, careful not to cut her thigh with the butcher knife.

As she turned toward the house, starlight glinted off the SUV’s windshield in a strange pattern, making Sachie pause to focus on what didn’t look right.

Then she realized the windshield was shattered as if something big had slammed into the glass. She looked up, half-expecting to see a palm tree hanging over the vehicle. The stars shined down from a clear indigo sky. Not a palm tree or anything else hung over the SUV.

Sachie’s heart skipped several beats, and she tensed. She raised the hand holding the butcher knife and glanced around, searching for any sign of movement. A shiver of apprehension snaked down her spine. Moving slowly at first, she backed toward the cottage, knees bent, ready to fight or run.

She backed in through the front door. Once she cleared the opening, she slammed the door shut, threw the bolt home and ran for her cell phone.

Juggling the butcher knife as she fumbled one-handed with the cell phone, she called the first person she could think of.

The other end of the call rang four times. Meanwhile, Sachie hurried into the bedroom, opened the closet door and stepped in.

Sachie’s nerves stretched so tightly that she almost dropped the cell phone as she closed the door behind her.

Just when she thought she’d have to face her stalker alone, a groggy voice answered, “Sachie? Is that you?”

“Kalea,” she whispered the only thing she could think of saying, “I’m scared.”

“Why? What’s wrong?” Kalea demanded, all grogginess gone from her tone.

Sachie cupped her hand around her mouth and spoke softly into the receiver, “You know how I thought I was imagining a stalker? ”

“Holy hell, Sachie, did you see him?” Kalea asked. “Are you okay?”

“I did see someone in the window,” Sachie said. “At least, I think I did.”

“What do you mean you think you did?”

“There was a face,” Sachie said. “Then it was gone. I went outside—” Sachie started.

“Please tell me you did not go outside,” Kalea demanded.

“Then I won’t.” Sachie swallowed hard and added, “But I did.”

“Holy hell,” Kalea said. “Are you somewhere safe?”

“I’m in the cottage. The door’s locked.” Sachie gave a humorless laugh. “I thought it was all in my head until I looked at the SUV you loaned me. The front windshield is shattered, like someone hit it hard. I figure if he could do that much damage to automobile safety glass, home windows wouldn’t be that hard to breach.” Sachie’s voice faded, and her hand shook as she hunkered down on the closet floor.

“Sit tight, Sachie,” Kalea said. “Hawk is on his cell phone as we speak.” She paused. “I’ll tell her,” she said as if speaking to Hawk, and then to Sachie, she said, “Hawk called 911. They’re sending a unit your way. He also has one of his Brotherhood Protectors on his way. Since he’s in Hilo, he shouldn’t be more than five minutes. He might even get there before the Hawaii Police Department. But don’t go anywhere. Since I can’t get there as fast from here on the Parkman Ranch, I need you to stay on the phone with me until the cavalry arrives.”

Sachie forced a laugh. “Oh, believe me, someone would have to pry my phone out of my cold, dead hands to end this call.”

“That’s not even remotely funny,” Kalea said.

Sachie didn’t think so, either.

As she hid in the bottom of a closet barely big enough to hold her, she jumped at the muffled sound of something hitting the outside of her house, hoping it wasn’t the stalker trying to get in.

She held her knife in front of her and prayed for the man Hawk had sent her way.

Please hurry!