Page 41 of Versions Of Us

I’ve had this nightmare before.

This terrifying, recurring memory of that awful phone call with Em a few months ago lives rent free in my head. A reminder that my job will never be easy and that I can only help someone as much as they’re willing to let me help them.

That no matter how strong I think I am, I can be rendered powerless in an instant. Sometimes, as much as I want to believe I can save someone, my best will never be enough.

I’ve felt inadequate ever since that day. I desperately wanted to call the police for her. To have them swoop in and carry her away from this life she doesn’t feel is her own.

But we all know real life isn’t that simple.

And rarely are problems solved with a simple phone call.

Chapter 17

HENLEY

My chest heaves, a gasp of air leaving me as I spring bolt upright on the couch. This isn’t new to me. Awakening in the middle of the night in a complete state of panic. I’d hoped that the bad dreams would stop, that things would be different now that I’m back in Cliff Haven. That it would bring me a sense of peace to be back in familiar surroundings.

But this nightmare was as vivid as all the ones that have come before it.

I stretch my neck out to see if I’ve disturbed Mackenzie, but she lies motionless on my bed, one foot sticking out from under the covers, her hair a blonde tangled mess. The digital clock on my bedside glows. 4:37am.

There’s no chance I’m getting back to sleep anytime soon. Apart from the fact that my body is way too big for this lumpy couch, I know that as soon as I close my eyes again, I’m going to be reminded of the worst day of my life.

Careful not to wake Mackenzie, I slide my phone into my pocket and slip out of the loft, padding quietly down the wooden staircase.

A soft glow illuminates the bar, throwing specks of light onto the bottles stacked neatly above it. I pace the length of the room, coming to a stop at the far back wall.

I wonder where I’d be now if it wasn’t for missed opportunities. If I’d had the chance to take on the manager position at the tavern, would I have lived up to my potential?

Or would I have screwed it up the same way I’ve screwed up everything else I’ve ever touched.

I lean back, resting my head against the wall. It’s then I see something that I’d forgotten all about. On one side of me is the stage, a small platform that I’ve played on countless times, back when EJ and I were in a band. How I wish we could go back to those days.

When everything was simple.

On my other side stands a tall mahogany cabinet, possibly an antique, a door frame barely visible from above its dusty shelves.

When I’d first started working for Steve, he had often talked about the old, abandoned room here at the tavern and his dreams of getting it fixed one day.

Not long before my family had moved into town, there had been a cyclone that ripped Cliff Haven to shreds. Many of the surrounding shops had needed rebuilding, but for the most part, the tavern had remained relatively unharmed. Except for the back end of it.

The tavern hadn’t been doing all that well leading up to the storm and unfortunately, after it occurred, Steve and Maggie had been told there was a problem with their insurance policy.

As it turned out, after they’d changed insurers the previous year, the policy wasn’t set for autorenewal and it had lapsed, meaning all the repairs had to be undertaken at their own cost.

The community had rallied together to help. They managed to fix the main area and get the bar up and running again, but the damage done to the back room of the tavern was a little more extensive and they couldn’t afford the extra cost to repair it. They regretfully made the decision to board it up, hoping they would be able to repair it in years to come.

A couple of years after that, they lost their only daughter in a tragic accident, and I guess repairing that long lost room became the least of their worries.

For all the times I’d heard Steve talk about it, I’d never once set foot inside it myself. Now that I’m standing here in front of the door, I can’t contain my curiosity.

I attempt to push the cabinet aside. It barely budges, it’s weight greater than what I’d expected. I position myself so that I can focus all my strength and drive into it with everything I have. The cabinet slides inch by inch until I can access the door handle. I turn the knob.

It’s locked.

Of course, its locked.

Who in their right mind would leave a hidden door open?

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