Clubrooms Diary novel Chapter 40

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 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,