Page 36 of Vow of Vengeance
That's not to say that I don't believe what I saw with my own eyes. But I know Vin did nothing without Tony's approval. And imagining Tony involved in the business I saw my husband wrapped up in is a whole other level of despicable I'm not prepared to face.
But I can't ignore it forever. Can't ignorehimforever.
It took Declan a week after freeing me from his chain to trust me in the apartment alone. It took another week for him to trust me to let Khan visit so that he can try (and fail) to keep me sane in Marissa's absence. A few days after Khan's visit, Declan relented enough to let me go alone to my appointed therapy sessions with Georgia. We meet in her office now and only twice a week now that I've gotten around to feeling more like myself... whatever that means.
It's another two weeks before I finally get the courage to do what needs to be done.
He'll probably lock me up again if he finds out I'm meddling, but I am hoping to keep this secret from Declan.
The bar isn't as busy in the middle of the week, so when I pull into a parking space and gather my nerves, nobody sees how long I sit there, telling myself that I can do this. I'm not going to go in and throw around any accusations, not going to hint at any knowledge I shouldn't have, not going to cause a scene. I'm simply going to check in on my employees, the way I have a hundred times before.
There's no one manning the back door, and Pete shouldn't be in for a couple hours yet, so I slip my key into the lock and let myself in. The back room is dark and quiet, not filled with smoke or sound or people. The poker table is littered with last night'smess, ashtrays with cigarette stubs still in them and empty beer bottles, a deck of cards stacked neatly atop it.
"Nika?" I call, trying to make myself known so that my bar manager doesn't come swinging at me with a baseball bat.
I didn't see any other cars in the parking lot, but I parked in the back. I've always told Nika to park out front, though, where there is better lighting and security cameras. She leaves work too late at night to not be taking precautions, which is why she's got a permanent spot out front. I didn't look to see if it was filled, though, assuming she'd be in by now.
As I walk through the bar, noting how eerily quiet it is, I realize it's also unkempt. I suppose that's what happens when the owner neglects her business for months on end, popping in at random just to meet friends for a drink.
When Vin died, I gave up. I held onto the things that I had like the house and the bar because of their familiarity, but I didn't work hard to maintain either of them. I let everyone else do it for me. Now, I see the evidence of my neglect...
Dirty counters, filthy glasses, dishes still in the sink. It's hard to imagine that Nika would have gotten lazy just because I wasn't checking in on her, which makes me wonder if we've just been swamped. Maybe she's been too busy to maintain everything herself... maybe we need to hire out.
When I flick the lights on, the mess is overwhelming. I run my hand through my hair, trying to stay calm, not to let my frustration bleed out into a scream.
It looks like it's been weeks since this place had a proper close; it's a wonder the health department hasn't shut us down. I give myself a moment to feel the overwhelm, the disappointment at Nika and the anger that I let it get to this point.
And then I get to work cleaning it up.
I turn on the speaker behind the bar, letting the music play too loud to ease some of the turmoil inside of me.
Cleaning turns out to be oddly therapeutic as I race around the bar, lifting the chairs onto the tables so I can sweep the floor. Or maybe it's the music, or the way I scream-sing it as I mop the floor, occasionally turning the wooden handle into a makeshift microphone as I perform for my empty bar.
I'm a third of the way through the Sleep Token playlist I made myself when I finally head to the backroom to get that in shape. Back here, the music is muted, but I don't bother switching speakers, letting myself decompress a bit from the feverish cleaning tirade I went on before. I text Declan that I'm stopping for coffee with Khan, successfully buying myself more time to finish the task I've set upon. While the floor in the bar dries, I swipe the trash in the backroom into a bag and wipe down the tabletop.
My irritation with Nika turns to concern as I realize that the bar is operating down to the wire. A visual inventory of the bottles of liquor and cases of beer shelved against the wall shows me that our stock is far too light. So, no one has re-ordered stock in a while, either, I guess.
I decide I'll give her a call later, when I've gotten everything back in reasonable shape and made it home to Declan.
I get to the bathrooms and nearly throw up. I consider leaving the mess in there for someone else to clean, even considering hiring someone to do it for me. But the smell permeates the air, and if I don't get it cleaned, it may start to spill out into the rest of the bar.
All of the cleaning products are stocked in the back, so I get a chance to breathe as I head back to the store room in search of the heaviest chemicals we have. Bleach, disinfectant, air freshener, paper towels, all purpose cleaner. I throw it all into a spare bucket and look around for a pair of gloves, too. There's just one box left, at the back of the bottom shelf.
I have to get on my knees to reach to the back of the wire shelf and bring it forward. As I do, I notice the seam in the wall.
I reach for it on instinct, wondering what kind of shoddy workmanship caused them to have a visible line in the middle of the wall. That's when I feel the separation, the little lift on one side that tells me it's not just a space where drywall was pressed together.
It's a door.
My heart squeezes in my chest, refusing to beat as my eyes follow the seam up behind the rack, seeing just how high it reaches. It stops a couple feet short of the ceiling, blended together better near the top so that it's not as visible. As far as I can tell, the only thing on the other side of this wall would be the exterior wall, so unless an exterior door was sealed on both sides, there shouldn't be anything here.
Something in me tells me not to mess with this. The smart thing to do would be to get Declan and bring him back with me, just in case. But I don't know what it's just in case of. Just in case I get locked in a spare room? Just in case it's a portal to another dimension? Just in case I find a secret store room with weapons and cash?
It all sounds ridiculous even in my own head. When I say it out loud, it all sounds even more insane. But I owe it to myself to find out why there's a door, which looks to have been intentionally hidden behind a storage rack.
Luckily, the supplies have run so low that the shelf is mostly bare. It moves fairly easily; in fact, it nearly topples over when I first push at it from the middle. When I drop lower to push at it from the side, it scrapes across the floor, reluctantly giving way.
There's no doorknob, but I find a notch in the seam, a little space I get my finger into and am able to release some sort of latch.
