Chapter 63
Gatsby
"Why didn'tyou 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 tohelp 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.
