Chapter 43
Gatsby
Daisy getting out of bed woke me, but she was trying so hard to be quiet, I found it amusing and let her dress and leave my room. Once she was gone, I got up and into the shower, then changed. Curiosity getting the best of me, I pulled up the cameras around the estate on my phone to look for her. I frowned when I found her and gave Dewayne a call.
"Hey, I need you to go get Daisy. She's wandering where I don't need her to be. Go take her to Jules, please," I requested, and he escorted her downstairs.
I wanted her to get to know my staff, so instead of rushing down to be with her, I went to my office and played around some. I did some more digging on Max and his circle. There was much more to them than the initial things I had found. They were corrupt, hateful, horrible people with too much money. They, along with their fathers before them, paid politicians, police, and anyone else they needed to get what served only them.
Not for long.
Once I felt like I'd given her sufficient time to meet Dewayne and Jules, I left my office and took the stairs down to meet them in the kitchen.
"Jules, is—Oh! Just the one I was looking for!" I smiled when I saw them at the island. Jules smirked, knowing full well I'd had Dewayne deliver her here.
Daisy leaped from her stool and hurried over, her bare feet slapping on the tile.
"Good morning!" She threw her arms around my middle and hugged me tightly.
"Have you eaten yet? I'm a bit famished myself." I looked at Jules, who got up to make me something.
"I have. Jules was just telling me all about how you two met."
My smile started to slide off my face, but I caught it in time. "Is that so? What did he tell you?"
Before I could get an answer, Dewayne entered the kitchen.
"Sir, Neal is here. They want to know your plans for today."
"Neal?" Daisy rushed past us, hurrying to greet her cousin. I followed behind, abandoning the idea of breakfast, but not the conversation I'd be having with Jules on what he could and couldn't tell her. I'd gotten too close to spilling something last night. Neither she nor I was ready for the truth to come out.
I met both Neal and Daisy in the foyer, where they were talking animatedly. They turned when they saw me.
"Daisy just told me the good news. Max is gone?" Neal asked excitedly.
"For now, but I feel that once he returns, he won't be around us long." I looked from Neal to Daisy. She gulped.
"Let's just think about now," she countered. "I don't want to stress about the future. Neal wants to spend the day with us. "
"Us?" I raised an eyebrow.
Neal shrugged. "I saw that boat out there. Thought I could get you to take me on it sometime. What do you say? Grab some beers, some snacks."
"Tuth?" Daisy asked, her eyes lighting up.
"Tuth," Neal agreed. "Make a day of it."
My plans had been to keep Daisy in my bed as much as possible today, not go out on my boat. But seeing her face so happy and eager made me happy and eager. "Sure, sounds fun. I'll have Jules pack us supplies."
One day of fun with Neal turned into a week of them coming over in the morning, the two coming up with outlandish ways to spend the day. When night would fall, Daisy would remember that she had to practice, so Tuth would take her to the studio, and return her to me later in the evening, where we made love until neither of us could keep our heads up, and would fall asleep from pure exhaustion.
It was bliss.
I never wanted it to end.
The next Monday, one week since I'd brought her here after our date, she insisted on returning home.
"Just for the day. I am... curious to see what the staff has to say. I told them I was spending time with Neal. I need to pack clothes and things to make sure it still looks that way."
I wasn't happy about her decision, but like every time before, I let her go, keeping my heart quiet.
She was coming back, I reminded myself.
Neal returned to our side of the lake shortly after dropping her off.
"Hey, you've got the day off, right?" they asked.
I studied their face. Why were they so excited?
"I do. Why?" I asked.
They flexed their bicep and slapped it. "Let's do that tattoo."
I searched for an excuse but came up short.
"Let me make sure my room is ready." I brushed past him to go check the room. I hadn't touched it since my last dinner guest. While I knew it had been cleaned like everything else, my paranoia over letting regular people in here was high. I couldn't have any trace evidence of what actually went here left behind.
Once I was satisfied it was safe, I returned and got Neal, bringing them through the locked doors and into my tattooing room.
"Why is it so bare in here?" they asked, looking around at the blank walls.
"It’s a work in progress," I lied. I'd imagined my dream setup since I was a kid. I just didn't want to showcase my art to anyone, in case things went wrong. I pointed to the long, black tattoo chair in the center of the room, and they climbed into it.
I grabbed my tablet and pulled up the drawing I'd worked on for them, showing them again to confirm for the stencil. I realized, as I began to prep things, just how quiet it was in here when no one was crying or screaming for help.
"You want to know something funny, Neal?" I chuckled as I pulled out my phone and put on some music. "You are my first client since I got out of jail."
"Really? Well, I guess that makes sense, since this room is empty as hell. Why don't you start offering tattoos at your parties?"
I shrugged. "I guess I'm just selective right now. Maybe someday I'll open up a shop."
I had to get an apprenticeship first, though, which would be hard to manage right now. All in good time. I gently placed the stencil on Neal’s arm, then finished the prep—washing, gloving, and mentally preparing myself to tattoo my second willing person ever. Technically third, but I didn’t count myself.
"So things are getting pretty serious with Daisy, huh?"
"They were always serious," I replied, deadpan.
"Right, I mean, just that she's going to leave Max now, right?"
"That is the plan." I didn't know why it bothered me so to talk about Daisy and Max's relationship. I'd mentioned it a dozen times this week alone about her leaving him soon, but each time she'd dodged the conversation. She'd complain about talking about the future, or me trying to bring the mood down. Self-sabotage, she said once, when I brought it up as we made love. Maybe she was right, as I'd been the one to demand we not speak his name during sex.
Neal’s tattoo took all day, and they talked the entire time. I tried to be an active conversationalist, but my mind was elsewhere, across the lake, wondering what she was doing. It wasn't until Neal said something about the news that I actually took a listen.
"Did you see they think the sex defender took someone else?"
"The what?"
"The sex defender, you know, the serial killer who's going all around the country picking up sex offenders. Well, not legally recognized ones, anyway. One of the true crime podcasts I listen to is following the guy. Apparently, he's kidnapping men and women that were thought to have sexually assaulted someone, and so far, none of them have been seen since."
"How do they know it's a guy?" I asked.
"I'm not sure," Neal answered honestly. "Probably because the people, mostly the men, are so hulking huge, it'd be hard to imagine a woman lifting that much weight. Anyway, the authorities are saying they think they're following his trail. He's on his way to California now."
"Is he a serial killer if no one has been found yet?"
"No, that's just what they call him on the podcast. Some of those true crime people aren't really up on their stuff. I need to stop listening to some of them, if I'm being honest. It’s kind of shitty, using other people’s pain for fame. But no, the victims so far have just gone missing."
"Then how do they know it's all the same person?"
I wasn't too worried, considering he'd said they were looking in California for me. There was thousands of miles between California and Michigan.
"Not sure. Maybe it's a group of renegades, taking out the people in power. I told Daisy it was just another sign that the lower class is fighting against the rich. I say good riddance. Eat the fucking rich, amiright?" They sat up and tried to fist bump me with their free hand.
I stared pointedly at them. They cringed and relaxed, letting out a nervous chuckle.
"Oh right, not you. I'd never eat you."