Chapter 16
Gatsby
Age 18
I sat up and looked over my shoulder. I stared at Daisy’s bare back, memorizing every curve, every freckle. I’d had her in my arms for twenty-four hours, and in just a few short hours more, all I’d have was this memory.
I looked at my hands, stretching them and closing them, over and over. Were these hands really built for killing? Could I do what was being asked of me? Yes. I had to. If I wanted any sort of future worth Daisy’s heart and attention, I had to. I stood and went to the foot of the bed, where all my clothes lay. My cock throbbed, growing hard again. My eyes drifted once more to the beautiful woman in my bed. Last night was the first time I’d ever truly had a say in things. I understood now why some people called it making love. I’d only ever had sex .
This was also the first time my erection wasn’t followed by guilt, shame, and loathing. I actually wanted to be hard. I was an eighteen-year-old guy being with a girl his same age. This was what all my school friends had. This was how I should have lost my virginity, not...
I shoved the dark, horrible memories away, and saw that my cock had gone limp because of it. I sighed and started toward the shower. I’d wanted to make love to her one more time, but I knew if we did, I’d never want to stop. My plans would be tossed out the window, and we’d end up nowhere. I’d made an agreement. One murder, a bit of time in jail, and then billions. We’d never have to worry about anything ever again. I scrubbed my skin, getting all of Daisy’s DNA off me. I couldn’t risk people knowing about her. She didn’t need to get mixed up in this.
She needed to go off and become the Prima Ballerina she was destined to be, and I, would eventually become a billionaire worth her time.
“You’re up early,” Daisy yawned when I returned from the bathroom, towel at my hips. “Wow.” She sighed, a small smile playing on her lips. “I can’t believe you’re real.”
“I feel the same.” I went to my suitcase, grabbing my clean clothes out and dropping my towel to change. While I knew nothing could happen, I wanted her to remember my body, too. It would be all that we had for a while.
“I have a tattoo! My Nona would murder me if she knew.” She giggled.
“What about the other stuff?” I snickered, turning just as I was slipping on my boxers. Her dark brown eyes shot directly to my groin, and she blushed.
“Oh, she’ll never find out about that. That’s just for me and you to know.”
I pulled on the rest of my clothes and came to sit with her on the bed. She was still in nothing but the sheet she clutched to her beautiful, perfect breasts.
“Do you not want people to know about us?” I raised an eyebrow.
Her eyes widened. “No, I mean, yes, I do. Just, I don’t want them to know about the ins and outs of our...”
“Lovemaking?” I finished.
She blushed again, and it gave me life.
“Yes. That part is just for you and me.”
Good. I needed her to keep that in mind going forward. No one could know that we knew each other. I was about to murder a very important person, and my face was about to be on the news everywhere. If people knew about us, her career would be destroyed.
“Come on, we need to get out of this room. They’ll charge for another night.”
She took her shower and soon we were packed up and leaving the hotel, heading to the bus station. As our previous tickets were null in void, I had to buy new ones.
“One ticket for New York, and one for Los Angeles, California,” I told the ticket booth.
“They are doing basic training in California?” Daisy asked.
I took our tickets and pulled her hand so we could sit and wait.
“No.”
There was a long pause as my news sunk in.
“You lied about joining the army.” Her tone was like a spike to the heart.
“Yes.” I bit back all the emotions threatening to explode. I wanted to scream and cry and change my mind. Let’s be poor, homeless, in love, teenagers! But I knew I couldn’t do that to her. Instead, I sat there in silence .
“Will I ever see you again, Gatsby?” Her lower lip trembled as her eyes grew shiny.
“Yes.” I squeezed her hand. “When I see you next, I’ll be someone worth having.”
My bus came, and we kissed one last time. I stayed with my lips pressed to hers as long as we could before I had to board. I went to the back of the bus and refused to look out the window. I needed to be strong. I closed my eyes, put headphones in, and waited for them to tell me I was in L.A.
Eventually, it happened, and I got off the Greyhound and took smaller transportations to where I needed to be. Dennis’s rules ran through my mind as I moved. Don’t look at anyone, keep my head down, get in, kill his sister, then wait to be caught. The gate was open, like he said it would be. I slipped in and hurried around the back of the house, getting in with ease.
Jessica Wolfsheim, where are you?
I wandered through the house, making noise as I went. I grabbed a knife from the kitchen and banged it on various pieces of furniture to get attention.
“Hello, is someone there?” A woman’s voice called from deeper in the house. I followed it, gripping the knife tighter as my hands grew clammy. This is it, Emile. It was too late to go back.
She was a monster. Dennis had told me how she sexually abused him for most of his childhood. His illness prevented him from fighting back, and he couldn’t die with the knowledge that she would inherit all of their family money with no consequences. She needed to go before him, and I agreed.
If I couldn’t kill my rapists, I could kill someone else’s.
I’d looked it up. The number of men being sexually abused by women that stayed silent was startling. I cried for him that night, not just for myself. I wanted to give Dennis his revenge, as I’d never get mine. There were too many women on my list. Dennis had just one. I stepped into the grand dining room and spotted the woman from the pictures he’d sent.
“Hello, Jessica.” I swallowed my nerves and straightened my spine. I was large, but I needed to appear scary and massive. Slowly, I began to walk toward her. She didn’t seem shocked to see me here. Instead, she stood and came around the table.
“This is... interesting.”
“What is?”
“Bringing a knife to a gunfight.” Still twenty feet away, she opened her suit jacket, pulling a pistol from its holster. My blood ran cold. Dennis never told me she had a gun.
“Why don’t you set your weapon down on the table, and we can talk?” She raised her gun up and waved it from me to the table. Raising my hands slowly, I did as told. I’d have to figure out how to get the gun from her before I tried to kill her.
“Now come sit.” She pulled out a chair next to the one she’d been sitting in. “I’m sure we can figure out something that will benefit us both. I have lots of connections.”
That she did. Dennis had told me all about it. How when he did try to speak up about his assaults, she was able to silence him with payoffs. Maids, cooks, drivers, any staff member he told was given a heavy check to stay silent. That wouldn’t be happening tonight.
I sat, and she joined me, putting the gun on the table, facing me.
“You have pretty green eyes. And that hair, it’s striking. Women love you, don’t they? Have you considered escorting?” She reached for my chin, and when I pulled away, she reached for the gun and I forced myself to sit still. “You are so pretty,” she muttered. “We will have so much fun before I kill you.”
“No, you won’t.” The voice that I should have never heard came from behind me.
I was too slow to turn. Jessica looked up past me, and in a panic, I lurched forward, swatting the gun from her hand. It slid off the table, and she stood quickly. I tried to reach for her hand to hold her back.
“Daisy!” I screamed as I turned my head. Daisy ran forward, the knife I’d dropped on the table in her hand. In a flash, the blade plunged deep into Jessica Wolfsheim’s chest. The billionaire heiress stumbled back, her eyes wide with surprise. Blood bubbled up from her throat and spilled from her lips before she collapsed.
The room was silent, except for Jessica’s dying breaths and the crackling fire across the room.
I stared, mouth open and eyes unblinking, as the life left her eyes.
This was not how it was supposed to go. Daisy’s DNA—it was on the knife embedded in the dead woman’s chest.
Fuck.