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."
Chapter 64
Daisy
"What do you mean?I saw the video at the abortion clinic, I read the birth certificate." Gatsby furrowed his brow.
"You must have found the altered birth certificate, which lists Daisy as Lydia's mother. Which is exactly what we were hoping for if people went snooping." Max snickered.
"If... you're not her mother..." Gatsby was confused.
I hung my head and sat in the chair next to me. I put my head in my hands. I knew this was coming, but the shame and guilt was just as horrible as I'd imagined it would be.
"Lydia's biological mother is a girl I fucked one time in college.” Max lifted his gun again to Gatsby. “I tried to get her to abort, but we got to the clinic and she refused. That's when I met Daisy. She had a problem, I had a problem, and we decided to help each other."
"Sit down," Clarke demanded of Gatsby. Carefully, he walked backward into a chair, plopping down while keeping his hands up.
"I still don't understand. Daisy, what... the video showed youat the clinic."
"I don't know what video you saw." Max dropped the gun slightly and went to the mini bar, pouring himself a drink. "But maybe she can help explain better. Why were you at the clinic, Daisy?"
I looked around the room. All three men were staring at me, waiting to hear my answer. My eyes rested on Gatsby, and my stomach turned.
"I wanted to tell you."
