Clubrooms Diary

Chapter 40: Hand in the cookie jar

LAYLA

May 14th 2018

There's nothing like returning to the place that makes you feel like utter shit and has you moaning your

tits off at the same time.

Working at Clubrooms thankfully pays my bills and I'm able to live a comfortable lifestyle.

More so than others.

I guess I should be thankful that I'm not out on the streets begging for food, just yet.

I've spent the last few days hiding out at home. Repetitively going over what Lisa had told me. I was

going out of my mind just continuously thinking about it. How could I have missed the signs of Ryder

being groomed by Jimmy? Or, the stacks of photos that were stashed behind our dressing tables and

T.V cabinet.

All the pieces started to come together and form a picture. Everything started to make sense and

become evident for why Jimmy was always at our house. He was like a bad smell that we couldn't get

rid of. I was so naive to assume his wife couldn't stand the sight of him after he had been out boozing

too extensively.

I drove two hours to the cemetery with a bottle of whisky in my bag. I went to visit Ryder for the first

time since he had been buried. All the pent up anger I had towards him slowly started to fade away the

more I opened up and spoke to him. I had to stop and laugh a few times, even I knew I looked

ridiculous doing it. Bizarrely, I felt so much lighter when I left.

And....

I still had a full bottle of whisky in my bag. For once, in a very long time. I didn't feel the need to drown

my sorrows in the amber liquor or want to end my own life.

The thoughts of making the pain go away with a simple flick of the trigger on Ryder's shotgun had been

lingering in the back of my head for many months. But with the knowledge that Ryder wasn't the

mastermind behind his side hustle. It has given me a new meaning to life by avenging Ryder and

getting even with Jimmy.

I want him to suffer the way I've been suffering, I want him to lose a piece of his soul just like Ryder did.

I want to be known as his living and breathing Karma. The one who makes him shake in his boots,

every time he hears my name.

I feel sick to my stomach that I let that slimy bastard touch me intimately.

If I could, I would scrub myself raw internally, disinfecting myself from the plague he infected me with.

He is a virus, a virus that eats away at innocent people. A sick bastard who needs his dick chopped off Exclusive © content by N(ô)ve/l/Drama.Org.

and shoved up his ass.

I walk through the back entrance to the club, ignoring the commotion going on down the hall. I enter my

room and sit back in my armchair. I let my eyes browse the room, the suns peeking through the

curtains, making the dust particles visible as they dance through the air. The room smells like it's just

been through a deep clean service, leaving the smell of cleaning products wavering about, tainting the

atmosphere of the room. I open my bag and pull out my phone. Scrolling through my contacts I swipe

right when that son of a bitches name appears on the screen.

Layla: My kitty is hungry, bring her a large sausage with your special cream sauce.

I hit send,

If he thinks he's about to get his dick wet. I know it's a sure thing he will show up, knocking on my door

like the bastard he is.

I mean...

Who in their right state of mind would bang their dead sibling's wife when the dirt is just starting to set

on their grave?

Ding.....

Jimmy: I'll bring her the biggest, creamiest, sausage she'll ever eat in her life

I scoff, reading it.

After today his meatballs won't be producing anything creamy...

***

I walk to the changing room to have a shower. My last client begged me to give him a golden shower

after I fucked him up the arse with the biggest strap-on I had. He claims he's straight with a wife and

five beautiful kids at home. Just like I claim to be Megan fox blessed with J-lo's ass and Salma Hayek's

tits.

I'm sure he's one of Maddies clients. She's the only crazy one that would agree to do that kind of crap. I

jump into the shower and wash the filth from my body, scrubbing my face and washing my hair.

When I'm done, I turn the shower off and get changed. I slide a razor in between my breasts and walk

back to my room waiting for Jimmy.

I don't know how this is all going to play out. I don't know If I'm going to use the blade or not. But I do

know I want to hurt him and that could either be mentally, physically or emotionally. Either way, he will

get what is coming to him.

There's a knock at the door, I get up and open it.

"Hey, you..." He says cheerfully.

He leans in to kiss me and I step back. He smirks and reaches for me.

"We need to talk Jimmy." I close the door.

"About?" He asks, frowning at me.

"About you, Ryder and the little side hustle you got him into." I look at him with disgust.

My hand's tremble and my heart sinks into the pit of my stomach when his face changes. He looks like

a kid who's just been caught with his hands in the cookie jar!!