"Daisy, Daisy, Daisy, how I've waited for this moment. I never imagined having an audience, but hey, gotta keep up with the times. What do you think, are you ready to become a mother, for real this time?"
Max grabbed my hips and, out of reflex, I lifted my legand kicked my heel directly into his groin. He fell back with an "oof!" and I yanked myself free from Clarke's hold. I heard the gun drop onto the floor, and I spun around to look for it. Max and I saw it at the same time, and I dove for it as he rolled.
I managed to get it and kick him away again before I stood and pointed it at him.
"Don't move." Keeping the gun trained on him, I went to Gatsby, untying him. The handcuffs were still attached to the wooden chair. Gatsby stood and yanked, using his foot as leverage to break the chair and remove the handcuffs from the arms, leaving it stuck on his wrist. I looked over at Clarke, who was standing there, arms empty, looking utterly lost without orders from Max.
"Gatsby didn't kill Lilly, I did."
The room was silent for hardly a moment. Max laughed.
"No, you didn't. He did. Why are you trying to save him?"
I shook my head. "No, it was me. I found her in my dressing room, wearing my clothes, using my makeup and perfumes, and I snapped. It also wasn't Gatsby having an affair with her; it was Max," I told Clarke.
Clarke dropped into the office chair and put his hands on his temples.
"None of this makes sense. Why would..." He looked up at Max. "Why would you help me look for her, if you knew what happened?"
Max stood, limping slightly.
"I didn't know jack shit. Don't believe a word she says. She's a pathological liar. She lied about our daughter for years. She was fucking this guy all summer; she can't do anything else but lie. Who would you believe, Clarke, a liar, or your friend?"
"Daisy…" Gatsby moved closer, muttering under his breath. "You need to leave, find Dewayne, and shut down the party."
"Yes." Clarke stood. Lifting his suit jacket, he removed a handgun. "Daisy, I think it's time you left. Leave the gun."
Max hurried forward, taking advantage of my surprise, and snatched the gun from my hand.
"I can't?—"
"Go." Gatsby put his hands on both sides of my head and kissed me. "Make sure my guests are safe."
"But what about you? I can't let you do this... you're my green light." A single tear slid from my eye.
He nodded. "We promised each other years ago, remember, that we'd find a way to get our green lights? I'm keeping my promise. Go, my Daisy."
"She's not your Daisy," Max snarled.
"You're right. Just like I was never really Gatsby, was I? Go... Shiloh."
I stared at him and, for a brief moment, everything fell away. The room, Max, Clarke, Gatsby and Daisy, all of it. It was just him and I, suspended in darkness. The real us.
Emile and Shiloh.
And then a gun went off.
Chapter 65
Shiloh
Age 13
I jumpedonto my bed and pulled the notebook from beneath my pillow. Giddy with excitement, I turned to the clock, reached for the phone, and waited. Any minute now, he'd be...
The phone rang, and I quickly picked up before my Nona could hear it going off.
"Daisy?" His voice came through when I clicked on.
