Chapter 51
JAX
Iawaken to the sound of drilling.
What the?
My eyes go to the clock. Nine thirty. Kat is nowhere in sight, her robe draped over the back of one of the chairs, the chair I sat in last night.
Last night. Wow. I’m not usually one to take control, but I had the feeling Kat needed it if she was going to get any sleep.
After we made love, she had all but passed out.
I watched her for a while before heading back into the spare room.
There’s definitely something off. Did her father close off the room for some reason?
The drilling starts again.
I get up, pulling on my abandoned robe.
I make my way towards the incessant sound.
Kat is standing by the wall, drill in hand, pressing the drill bit against the now exposed paintwork.
She must sense my arrival, as she stops and turns to face me.
I look at the back panel of wood, now lying against the side wall.
“It was screwed in place. I found where they covered the screws, dug them out,” Kat says, as if this is an everyday occurrence for her.
“And?”
“The plaster work behind it is amateurish and thin. There’s definitely something else.”
I move closer and run my hand over the plaster. She’s right, it’s poorly done, even if it was going to be hidden behind a bookcase.
I tap on the wall. It doesn’t sound overly hollow, but then, if there’s a solid door behind it.
“Are you sure you want to do this?”
“One hundred per cent. If I’m wrong, then I’ll call maintenance and tell them I was looking at redecorating.”
“Won’t they think you’re a little strange, tearing apart your room?”
Her brow wrinkles for a moment.
“So, I call Caleb.” She shrugs. “Get someone from his team to come in.”
“You’re really doing this?”
“I’m doing this. Something is off, and I want to know what.”
I take the drill out of her hand, tapping the wall in several places. When I find the spot I’m looking for, I drill, making several joined holes next to each other. When the gap is big enough, I push my fingers into the plaster.
There’s a definite gap before I hit something solid.
“Last chance,” I say, looking up at Kat.
“Do it,” she says. “Whatever you’re going to do.”
I remove my fingers before turning my hand over and reinserting them into the hole. Then I pull.
It takes several tugs before the wood and plaster give way with a loud crack. Several more tugs and the plaster and thin chipboard come away, revealing a space and a wooden door, similar to all the other doors found in the hotel.
Kat drops down next to me. She turns her head, as if sensing I’m watching her.
“I was right,” she says quietly. “What the hell? Who blocked up the room and why?”
She grips the wood next to the opening and starts pulling it away frantically.
“Ouch,” she says with a hiss.
I grab her hand, turning it over in mine. A small shard of wood has splintered and embedded itself in her palm.
“We need to stop and get some gloves, maybe a crowbar. Nothing is going to change.”
She opens her mouth but closes it again.
“Let’s get showered and clean this up,” I say, motioning to the splinter. “Then we can gather the tools we need. Maybe call Elijah or Caleb to help.”
“No,” she says sharply. “I’m not involving my brothers. Not just yet. It may be nothing.”
She gets up silently, nursing her hand.
I follow suit. “But.” I press.
Kat turns to me. “I don’t know, it’s just a feeling.”
I move towards her, pulling her into my arms, and she comes willingly.
“First things first, we need to get that splinter out, and then we can go from there.”
“Okay,” she says.
Her thoughts are so loud I can almost hear them.
We walk back towards her room.
“Where on earth did you get the drill from?”
“Maintenance.”
I’m apprehensive as we clear the rest of the false wall. There’s definitely a door behind it, a locked one at that.
“Shit,” Kat says, as she tries the handle.
Someone wanted to keep everyone out of this room.
The question is who?
“Kat.”
“Don’t say it.”
I hold up my hands and back away, sitting on the edge of the bed.
Kat stands with her hands on her hips, closing her eyes.
She stands stock still. When her eyes open, I recognise the glint. She’s remembered something.
When she moves out of the room, I follow her into the kitchen.
She pulls open every cupboard until she finds what she’s clearly looking for. An old coffee tin.
She grabs a teaspoon and pries up the lid, it gives with a pop.
Tipping it up, she holds up her prize.
“I remember Dad cursing because he’d left his key at the office. Told me he always kept a spare hidden in plain sight. Well, maybe not exactly in plain sight, but where no one would think to look.”
I take in the coffee tin that’s at least twenty years past production, and chuckle.
Kat grins. “Okay, so maybe his logic was a little flawed, but you have to admit, it’s a cool tin.”
She leaves before I can answer, returning to the room and placing the key in the lock. She pauses, inhaling and exhaling before she twists her wrist. It sticks.
“Shit,” she says, giving it a little wiggle.
She tries again until we eventually hear the telling click.
Kat turns, her teeth embedded in her lip, and we stare at each other.
A fluttery, empty feeling takes hold in my stomach. My heart is pounding as Kat takes hold of the door handle, swinging it open.
“In for a penny, and all that,” she says, stepping over what’s left of the semi-demolished wall and disappearing inside.
I follow closely behind. Dust particles swirl around us. The musty smell of stale air is almost stifling.
Closed curtains block out the light. Kat moves forward, pulling them open. She coughs as the movement shoots more dust into the air, but floods the space with sunlight.
She spins, taking in the room, covering her mouth with her sleeve.
“Jax, it’s exactly as I remember it,” she says, her voice so quiet I strain to hear her.
I move to stand next to her.
“So why was it closed up?”
“I don’t know. Let’s find out.”