"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 affairswith 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.
Chapter 56
Gatsby
