Chapter 55
Gatsby
She thought she was a monster?
I reached for her elbow and brought her arm out. "You know how I know you're not a psychopath?" I asked as I leaned down with my machine.
"How?"
"You wouldn't be hurting this much over someone." I brought the needle down and began to drag across her skin. She winced, but the tattooing seemed to calm her. Her sobs turned to sniffles as she regulated her breathing.
"There we go, breathe, Daisy, good girl. You're going to be okay. I'm going to fix everything."
"How? Gatsby, Lilly is?—"
I dipped in my ink and continued the tattoo. "Ssh, trust me. I'll take care of it."
My cock hardened, and I found her shaking body and endless tears intensely arousing. I paused to move down and take a nipple into my mouth. She gasped.
"Gatsby—"
"Didn't I ask you to relax?" I repeated .
She squirmed, yet arched her back as I swirled my tongue around the rigid peak.
"How can I when?—"
"When what?" I moved my free hand between us to push down her panties. She bucked her hips and tried to get away, but I reached for the knife and clumsily cut them off her, tugging them free from her body.
"No, we shouldn't..." she whimpered.
"Why? Did you die tonight?"
"No, but it should be me!" She cried out as I undid my belt and shoved my pants down, freeing my cock.
"You don't deserve that, Daisy. You're not what you think you are. You're perfect, you're stunning, you're beautiful."
"Beautiful? Gatsby, I'm a murderer."
"My beautiful little freak," I murmured as I spread her legs further. I fingered her pussy, and despite her claims that she wasn't interested, she was wet. I spread her arousal over her clit, making her squirm and moan underneath me. “I’m a murderer too. Let’s be murderers together.”
"Please, Gatsby," she moaned again, her words saying no, but her body betraying her. She wanted me just as much as I wanted her.
"You said to punish you, well, accept your punishment," I said, as I aligned my cock with her entrance and slammed into her on the floor. She gasped loudly as I took her. Her arms swung forward, and she clawed at my shirt. I thrust hard and fast, feeling her pussy tighten with me.
"Unless you're about to tell me you're coming, I don't want to hear another fucking word out of your mouth," I snarled when she stammered. I grabbed her arm again and yanked it back into position while grabbing my tattoo machine with the other hand.
"You are not a psychopath." I drew a hard line into her skin. "You are not a monster." I crossed that line with a second one. "You are not a bad person, Daisy. You have always been, and always will be... my beautiful... little..." I scrawled above the crossed out word and punctuated my work with continued thrusts inside her perfect, tight pussy. "Freak."
Her body tensed as she came. Her pussy clenched my cock, milking me as she gushed. I set down my machine and began thrusting faster, needing my own release. My balls tightened and soon I was throwing my head forward and stilling as my cock erupted inside her. I filled her pussy with my seed until there was nothing left, and then stood.
Naked and shaking, she stood and went to the mirror, her arm raised. Putting my cock back in my pants, I went to the trash and tossed the used needles and ink and reached for fresh ones.
"Gatsby—" she started, flashing me her modified tattoo.
"I told you I'd mark myself with whatever I marked on you. You're not a monster, Daisy. We are one and the same, and what we are, are?—"
"Beautiful little freaks," she whispered.
"That's right, baby. You and I are both one and the same. We protect the people we love. We protect the people that they aim to hurt. Lilly, Jessica Wolfsheim, and people like them don't just stop at one person. The hate they have for society makes them repeat things over and over."
"How do you know that, though?" She stepped aside as I took my materials to the mirror and peeled off my shirt. I'd fallen asleep in it, and it was stiff and damp from the rain. I inhaled deeply as I eyed my chest, looking for just the right place to tattoo myself.
"Because, Daisy," I started, "I wasn't at the Wolfsheim estate by accident. You know that. I'd been invited. I'd been paid to kill Jessica. She'd been molesting her brother for years."
"No." Daisy shook her head. "That can't be."
"Why? Because he was disabled, or because he was a man?" I turned, setting the machine down. The next words from her mouth were going to determine everything about our future. I was ready to divulge every single thing I'd done since being released from prison, and if she thought I wasn't just as much a victim as a woman, I didn't know what I'd do.
"Because that means... Is there any good in the world, Gatsby?" Tears glazed her eyes, but didn't fall. I shook my head, relieved, but still on edge.
"No, Daisy, I don't think there is. Hurt people hurt people. But we can choose who to hurt, and I choose men and women who take from others." I went to her, cupping her face. "It's how I've been able to heal from..." I gulped. I wasn't sure if it was the right time to tell her about my mother and her friends. Would there ever be? "From my past."
She seemed to understand I wasn't ready and simply nodded. I moved away and offered her my shirt.
"Let's wrap these up and then get in the shower," I suggested, kissing her tenderly. Gone was my feral, primal need to take her, to show her that she was loved. It was replaced with the same needs, but more tender. I wanted to take care of her now, not force her into seeing what I saw.
My beautiful little freak.
She slid the shirt on and came to watch in the mirror as I slowly went to work tattooing the same design on my body as I had on hers. I wrote 'beautiful little flirt', then crossed out 'flirt', then under it put 'freak'.
I set my machine down and showed her. "What do you think? "
"It's beautiful," she swooned, and turned to me. “One day, will you tell me what happened to you when you were younger?”
I hesitated, but then gave her a kiss on her forehead. “Yes, love. Someday.”
Together, we left my room. We opted for the bath instead, and in the hot water, I scrubbed all the blood and dirt off her body.
"I'll take care of everything with Lilly," I assured her as I scrubbed shampoo into her hair.
"Like you've taken care of the others?" she asked.
I hesitated, but responded.
"Kind of. I have ways to get rid of... evidence."
"She has a husband," she told me.
"I know. Please, Daisy, let me take care of this. Let me take care of you." I moved into her, pulling her body against mine. My cock twitched, and I was ready to go again. This time, I spun her around and she sat on my lap, taking my cock from this position. Our lovemaking was gentle, but fast. She cried as she moved her hips, and I kissed each tear away, assuring her all would be okay.
I changed the sheets, and we fell asleep shortly after our heads hit the pillow. Morning came, and she was anxious again. I wrapped her in my arms to soothe her.
"I have it all planned out. You are going to go home, and me and Dewayne will go to the Theater."
"And you'll discover the body and call the police to report a break in?" Her voice lifted in a hopeful tone.
I chuckled, stroking her hair. “We are just going to clean up. It will be as if she were never there.”
“But people will be looking for her.”
“Yes, but that’s not our problem. She was a woman with a shopping addiction and a reputation for having affairs with bad men. It’ll be safe to assume she either ran off with one or they killed her.”
"Bad men like Max," she said slowly. My stomach tensed. The idea that she had feelings for him at all made me sick.
"Yeah... Daisy, we need to talk about something," I started. She moved to get out of bed and, as if knowing exactly where I was going with it, she went to get dressed, leaving my words hanging lifelessly in the air.
Another time, I supposed.
Once this was all over, we'd have a lifetime to discuss everything.
I repeated those words to myself as I got out of bed, dressed in casual clothes fitting of disposing of a body, and went to call Dewayne.