Chapter 66
Gatsby
Daisy screamed as the room filled with smoke. My ears rang as I stumbled back in surprise. Furious, I reached my hand behind me and removed the gun from my back strap and turned, quickly firing two rounds, hitting Max in the chest, and Clarke square in the forehead. The men dropped to the ground instantly.
"If you have anything to say, say it now," I yelled. If my ears were ringing, so were hers. Clarke's gun didn't have a silencer, like mine. I set my gun on my desk and took off my jacket to examine where I'd been shot. I stripped my shirt off, then the bulletproof vest, then went to the other side of the room, where a mirror sat.
A large bruise was already forming, and it hurt to breathe. One of my ribs was cracked, I was sure.
Bastards.
Glancing past myself to the mirror, I saw that Daisy had gone to Max. She was holding his head up as he struggled to breathe. He didn't have much time, considering I probably hit a lung. Her mouth was moving, and his eyes were on her. I couldn't hear anything, which was just as well. She needed to say goodbye, and I needed to let her. I exited, leaving my gun and vest behind.
My office wasn't soundproof. Even with the raging party going on below, there was a chance the gunshot had been heard. The moment I stepped out of my office, it was clear that it had.
Fuck.
My guests below were screaming and running out of the doors. The music had stopped, and the dancers were standing there, unmoving. I reached into my pocket and found missed calls and text from most of my staff. I text Dewayne, letting him know everyone was safe, the shooter was contained, and to calm the people as they exited.
A moment later, I watched from the balcony as he reached the stage and took a microphone. His voice was muffled in my ears, but the crowd stopped panicking and began to listen. Slowly this time, people began to file out, and through the windows, I could see police lights.
Someone had called when they heard the gun go off.
Police waded in past the guests, and I returned to the office, where I put my clothes back on and took the gun from Max, replacing it with mine.
"What are you doing?" Daisy asked. Max was already gone. I helped her stand and pulled her in for a hug.
"Going for our green light."
I took my time going down to greet them. The calmer I was, the easier this would all be.
"Mr. Gatsby." They nodded. These were the same ones who had arrested me, then apologized after I'd paid them handsomely to never harass me again. "We're sorry to have to be here, but we were called and a gunshot has to be at least checked on."
Thankfully, the ringing was dying down and I could finally hear again .
"Yes, it's a really unfortunate scene upstairs. Let me take you."
In my office, Daisy stood, blood on her hands and dress, still looking stunned.
"What happened?" an officer asked.
"The gentleman on the right, Clarke, shot me, and then shot his friend, Max Stanton, on the left. As Max was falling, he shot Clarke."
"You're shot?" they asked, stepping over to the bodies.
"Yes, but I had a feeling that I would not be safe tonight, so I wore a bulletproof vest. I'm fine." I winced through the pain from the cracked rib.
"I see." It was clear on the policemen's faces as they exchanged looks like they knew I wasn't telling the truth. Even I could admit the story didn't add up. And if they did autopsies and checked the bullets or searched for gunpowder residue, my timeline of events would fall apart. They looked over at me, and I stared them down.
"Should I call my lawyer? He can speak to you about things if you'd like."
Their faces lit up simultaneously, knowing exactly where I was going with this.
"Sure, we'd love to speak to him. Although to me, this looks like an open and shut case," one of them said, tipping his hat to me.
"I agree. Do we know why they came here with guns? While we wait for your lawyer, why don't you tell us your side of the story, Mr. Gatsby?"
I pulled out my phone, shot a call over to my lawyer, and then came around to sit at my desk and spin a story.
"Clarke recently lost his wife. She'd run off with her lover, and Max had told him it was me. As I had not left town and his wife wasn't here, he accused me of murdering her. When I laughed off the incredulous idea, he shot me. "
"And why was Max Stanton here?"
"Because I was having an affair with his woman." I grinned and glanced at Daisy who was still standing across the room, staring at the bodies.
The officers chuckled and wrote what I told them. Soon, my lawyer arrived, and I took Daisy up to my bedroom, thanking the officers for understanding.
"It's unfortunate, but as I do have a reputation, let's keep this quiet."
"Yes, sir," they said in unison as they slid the large checks into their pockets.
The moment Daisy and I were alone, she broke.
"Oh my god. What did we do? What is going to happen? People will know. Just paying off city police isn't going to do anything, Gatsby. This is bad; people will come for us."
I grabbed her shoulders and steadied her.
"Sshh... yes, people probably will come looking around, but there will be nothing to be found. We're leaving tonight." I turned her around and pushed her toward the closet. "Come, let's change, put something more comfortable on. We have a long flight."
"A flight? I can't just leave. What about my things, my company, the show, Tuth and Neal and—" She stopped crying, and I turned to see her face had gone blank. "What about Lydia?"
That was a good question. She crumpled to the ground and began to cry again.
"I never wanted to be her mother. I don't love her the way she deserves. I resented her for the choice I made—picking money over freedom. And her poor mother… Max ripped the baby from her arms and thrust her into mine. She died giving birth, so we couldn't give her back. I didn't know what to do. I still don't. Gatsby…" She looked up, her makeup running down her face. "I can't pretend anymore. "
I helped her up, soothing her.
"I'll take her."
The voice startled us both. We looked out the doorway at Tuth.
"I was at the party when the gun went off. As Daisy's main security, I thought it best to stick around. I knocked, but no one answered, and I assumed no one would be having sex right now so—" they were rambling, and I put my hand up to stop them.
"What did you say before?"
They cleared their throat. "I'll take the little girl.” They stepped forward and reached for their friend’s hands. "Being able to acknowledge that you wouldn't make a good parent is respectable. If you don't want her, I'll take her."
"Where will you go?" Daisy asked.
Tuth grinned.
"Where are you guys headed?"
Two hours later, the police had left, the party was cleared out, and Daisy and Tuth had retrieved Lydia from the house on the other side of the lake. We all stood at the door, Dewayne waiting to take us to my private plane.
"Tell the staff thank you for everything," I said.
"Of course. We extend the same gratitude, Mr. Gatsby. We will finish our two weeks, restore this place, and then close its doors. It will be as if you never existed."
I nodded appreciatively. "Good."
We got into the limousine. This was the one and only time I'd ridden in this vehicle. There were a half dozen others I'd purchased and never used as well. I looked at the proof of my wealth as we started away and smirked.
Money was wasted on the rich.
We'd just started to go when Tuth cried out for us to stop.
"Neal!" they said as they gently moved Lydia to the seat and hopped out of the car to run to Daisy's cousin's home.
As we waited, Daisy leaned her head against mine, and I relaxed into my seat.
I was tired, my chest ached from the gunshot, and I was mentally tapped from so many revelations tonight, but still, I reached for Daisy’s hand, entwining our fingers. We'd been through hell and back, from our own prisons in youth and adulthood. We'd committed crimes no one would dare speak, and it all led to this.
It was worth it.
"Will we be okay?" Daisy asked.
A slow, exhausted grin spread over my lips. What a loaded question, but what an easy answer. Digging into my pocket, I pulled out the ring box and opened it clumsily with one hand. I removed the ring and slid it onto her finger.
"Do you believe in the green light?"
The End