"Are you the one doing it? All of his friends. They'vegone missing. Max is panicking. He thinks you have something to do with it."
"What if I did?"
"I-I don't know. What did you do with them?"
"Don't ask questions you don't want answers to," I warned. She swallowed and nodded.
"Max seems to think you're taunting him. You know, leaving him for last." She let me go and went to the edge of the dock, where she sat, putting her feet over the edge. I joined her, reaching for her hand.
"Tell me to stop, and I will." It was the truth. My chest squeezed as I waited for her to do just that. To plead for me to spare his life. To let them get married, to raise her daughter, to be a family. To leave them alone.
She stayed silent.
I pressed my lips together, my stomach twisting in knots. I needed to have a conversation with her, but I wasn't sure I was ready. Would I ever be ready?
"Daisy, I need to talk to you about something," I said. The photograph in my pocket grew warm, as if calling for me to bring it out.
"I need to escape," she blurted. "For good. I walked here. I left through the back once I knew Max and Clarke had drank themselves into a stupor. Max has always been awful, but having Lilly's husband there too is insufferable. I'm like a bird, trapped in a tiny cage with another dead bird. The guilt, and the anger is too much. I, I—" She burst into tears, and I embraced her, letting her cry into my chest.
"Daisy, it's okay. I'm going to get you out. It's almost done. We're so close."
"Clarke won't leave. I don't know what his game is, but it's like Max is taunting me. I think he knows I know what happened, and he's using Clarke to get to me."
"Don't let him. Just keep quiet. If you can get Max here,I can take care of it. I'll make it so no one ever bothers you again. With me, you'll never be trapped again."
"Max won't ever let me go," she said, mournfully. "There's too much you don't know."
"He's not getting a choice. Is this because of—" I started but was cut off by her scrambling to her feet.
"Show me." She sniffled. "Show me what you plan on doing, and I'll get him here."
I blinked, and she repeated herself. She took my hand and dragged me forward. We reached the doors, and I stopped her.
"Daisy, I don't think you know what you're asking."
"I'm serious. I know what people say about you. I need to know the truth. Take me upstairs to the rooms you keep locked. Let me see the full truth. Don't hide anything. Tell me, Gatsby, how depraved are you, truly?"
I swallowed, licking my lips. What a loaded question. My breathing became labored as I took in her words. She wanted to see it all. Was I ready to bear my truth to her, finally, after all these years?
"I'm afraid you won't love me, if you know the truth."
"Same here," she said, nodding toward the doors of the house. "You tell me your darkest secrets, and I'll tell you mine. We can decide later if we deserve each other or not."
I stared into her brown eyes. She was so sure, so confident that her secrets matched mine.
Could she handle seeing just how broken I was?
Could I handle her secrets as well?
Chapter 61
Daisy
Keeping hold of my hand,Gatsby took me into his large home, leading me to the elevator. He stuck a key inside it and nodded to me solemnly. His entire demeanor had shifted since I'd demanded he show me everything. His lips were a thin, straight line, his green eyes cold and seemingly lost. He stared straight ahead as the elevator jerked upward, taking us to the only part of his house I'd yet to be granted access to.
"Are you sure?" he asked one last time, pausing with his hand on the door, keys in the locks. I looked around. The hall was deathly silent, as if it too, were waiting to hear me change my mind.
"Yes, I'm sure." I nodded.
