Chapter 63
Gatsby
"Why didn't you ever tell me?" Daisy’s voice cracked after I confessed to her everything I’d gone through during my teenage years.
"I didn't think you'd understand. A teenage boy not wanting sex from a bunch of women? My mom told me over and over, ingraining it into my mind that no one would believe me or care," I admitted. “She gaslit me for so long, telling me that I must want it just because my body responded to stimulation. That’s…” I trailed off, my own memories triggering a response in me. I couldn’t finish the sentence. My entire body trembled as the horrible words my mother used to say echoed in my mind.
Daisy shook her head and threw her arms around me, causing me to fall back slightly on the table.
“Oh Gatsby, I believe you, and I do care. And fuck her for saying that." She kissed me gently, over and over again, as if her lips could heal my fucked up mind. I liked to think they did. I kissed her back, and soon our tongues were intertwined in a sensual, yet gentle dance. I pulled away first and sat her up. She scurried off the table and took my hand to help me down, despite me being tall enough to touch the ground.
"So what happened next? Did you get your revenge by eating her?"
I huffed, my eyes going toward the ceiling. "No, I've told you. I'm not a cannibal." I paused to flash a shy smile at her. "I am, however, very pro-cannibalism."
I loved saying that phrase.
She pushed me playfully. "Really?" Her eyes filled with hope, and I nodded.
"Really. I actually went vegetarian specifically in an attempt to thwart the rumors. Turns out it doesn't really matter. People will believe what they want." I laughed. "Now, are you satisfied? There's nothing left to tell. If all goes as planned, Max will be on this table soon, where, like everyone else since my mother, he’ll be served alive."
"Alive?" she squeaked, her face paling.
"Yeah, we like to let them watch people eating them. The meat isn't the greatest. Fear seems to toughen it; but the revenge is worth it. All of their victims say it helps heal them."
She shook her head. "I-I don't know what to say."
"Say nothing." I took her hand and led her out of the room. "I hope Max is the last dinner I serve. After that, you, me, and Lydia can start a life together."
"Lydia?" She grimaced.
"Well—"
"Let me get Max here, and we can discuss things then," she rushed.
"Let me walk you home. At least close," I insisted.
We walked hand in hand to the other side of the lake. She asked questions about my parties. I asked her if she was prepared for what I had planned. She was hesitant at first, but then responded .
"Yes. I caught him right before he tried to molest a group of young girls. I don't know if it was his first time."
"Well, it's his last," I promised, reluctantly letting her go as we got close to her home. We parted, and as I started back to mine, I pulled the ring box from my pocket to open and admire under the moon. The emerald engagement ring shone beautifully in the light. I couldn't wait to put it on her finger.
It took three more weeks, with Daisy and I in communication every night via phone, before she'd convinced Max to attend my party.
"I'm not sure what he has planned, but he thinks he's going to win."
"Win?" I smirked.
"His words, not mine. What colored dress should I wear?"
"Green, for Gatsby."
This would be my last Gatsby party, so I planned to make it the most memorable one ever. I had a new suit tailored and got new decorations for the ballroom. I hired ballerinas to dance in cages, ordered twenty peacocks to roam the party, doubled food and drinks, and booked stellar entertainment. Everything was perfect. I stood above at the exact place I'd taken Daisy at the first party she'd attended. My cock stiffened, remembering the encounter. I couldn't wait until tonight was over, and she was all mine for the rest of our lives.
Dewayne called my name, pulling me from my thoughts. "The staff is prepared, sir. "
I blinked, trying to remember what he was talking about. "Oh, yes. Are they upset?" I asked, worried.
He laughed. "Not at all, and everyone has vowed to keep what they witnessed while here to themselves. You're a good man, Gatsby."
"What about you? What will you do?"
He grinned. "I'm still deciding."
He left me to my thoughts, and I stood, watching as the doors opened and partygoers wearing masks filed in, dancing and howling. An hour into the party, they entered.
She looked like a princess in her green, sparkly ball gown. She wore a half mask, stopping at her nose and high cheeks. It was white, with large bunny ears that sparkled in the light. I pulled my fox mask out of my jacket and hurried down to greet them.
Max scowled when he saw me coming. He wore a Venitian mask with an oversized, crooked nose. It was ugly, like the face behind it. I greeted them politely.
"I assume you're here to steal my fiancée away." Max snickered, his cold eyes growing darker, colder. So cold, it sent a shiver through my body, despite the heat of the crowded room. Gatsby didn’t miss a beat.
"That I am." I laughed, pulling Daisy into my arms.
We bound away, Daisy leading, her natural grace moving us easily through the packed party.
"Hello again, Daisy." I smiled.
"Hello again, Gatsby." She nodded.
"Are you hungry?" I asked. Her smile fell.
"I don't know if this was a good idea. This feels wrong."
"Why? You've done the same to protect me. I think it's time I return the favor."
"I just feel like at any moment, the bomb is going to drop. He's been up to something, I just know it. He's been too nice lately. "
Her concerns were valid, but I no longer cared. This was being handled tonight.
"I can't wait any longer, Daisy. In fact..." I pressed myself against her, allowing her to feel how hard I was. "Why don't we sneak away before the festivities start?"
I took her off the dance floor, and we snuck upstairs to my office. The moment the doors were shut, our masks flew off and my lips crushed hers.
"I'm so fucking horny," I muttered as I fumbled with her skirt.
"No, I want to repay the favor. Put your mask back on." She giggled and reached for hers, sliding it over her eyes, pushing my hands away. I was offended at first until she dropped to her knees and grabbed for my suit pants. I helped her undo them and remove my cock from my boxers. She inhaled me quickly, and I leaned my head back, closed my eyes, and savored her tongue and lips as she sucked me deep into her throat.
She worked me fast and hard. She knew just what to do with her tongue to get me there fast, and like a preteen boy seeing his first playboy, I came hard and fast, making me surprised and a little dizzy. I pulled out of her mouth and yanked her up. She swallowed every drop and kissed me, our mouths locking. The taste of my cum on her lips turned me on, causing my cock to throb. Could I go again?
Deciding there was time for that later, I stuffed myself back into my clothes and retrieved our masks.
"Jules is probably getting ready. We just need to pull Max from the party." I opened the door and was greeted with the barrel of a gun being shoved into my forehead.
"Care for company?" Max asked.
I raised my hands. He pushed me back with his gun, and I stumbled over my feet.
"Max!" Daisy cried .
"Shut up, Daisy. We're ending this tonight. Come in, Clarke." Max cocked his head, and a man in a mask that matched Max's entered.
"Recognize him? This is Lilly's husband. You know, the dancer you murdered."
"What?" I asked.
"You don't have to play dumb anymore, Gatsby. I knew the whole time that the last place Lilly was, was your Theater. And the next day you and your assistant were there all day. You killed her and covered it up. You thought you'd get away with it, but Clarke and I aren't letting that happen."
I licked my lips and focused on my breathing. Panicking would do me no good right now. I needed to get the gun off my forehead.
"It wasn't me, but I know who did it," I admitted. "I was the one to clean up the mess."
"See, I told you," Max said to Clarke.
Clarke took off his mask and came forward.
"Tell me. Who murdered my beautiful, innocent wife?" he choked. "Why did they do it? She wouldn't hurt a fly. She was so beautiful and perfect. Tell me what you know."
"Put the gun down," I demanded.
"Fuck you," Max spat.
"Put it down, Max,” Clarke begged. “I need to know. I can't go on, not knowing what happened to her."
Slowly, begrudgingly, Max lowered the gun to my chest.
"Daisy, get out of here," I ordered.
"I'm not leaving," she said.
"Go get Lydia," I ordered.
Max's hand went slack as he gave me a questionable look.
"Why would she go get my daughter?"
"Because she's not your daughter; she's mine," I asserted .
Max chuckled, and that turned into a full belly laugh, causing him to swing the gun down to his side. I stood there, confused, my gaze shifting from him to Daisy, then back again.
"What? I know the truth. Lydia is mine and Daisy's child."
"No, she's not." Max stood, his face red from laughter. "She's not even Daisy's."