"It means, she never loved you. She was just waiting for me."
"Waiting?" Max let out a laugh. "Ha. You were in prison. She wasn't waiting for shit. She tossed you aside and jumped into my car the first chance she got. Yeah, I looked into you. Your name isn't Gatsby."
I looked up from my hands, curious. What did he know? Max looked at me and nodded.
"That's right, Daisy. Your prince Gatsby isn't who he claims to be. He's a monster. He's a cannibal."
"He was proved innocent," Neal interjected. "Your detective is shit."
Max came around the table and I flinched as his hands came down on my chair.
"Oh, it's not his overturned convictions I'm referring to."
The room fell silent.
"What?" The word slipped from my lips. Max released my chair, and I slowly rose to my feet, turning to face the room. "What are you talking about, Max?"
Max sneered. "He didn't tell you? All the time you had this summer, in his bed, and not once did he feel intimate enough with you to confess what he's been doing?"
"Daisy, don't listen to him." Gatsby reached forward and took a step, but Max tensed.
"Come near her and you'll regret it," he warned, causing Gatsby to freeze. His Adam's apple bobbed nervously.
"He's a liar, Daisy," Gatsby said from where he stood. "You know that. He's cheated and lied and kept secrets from you. He's the bad one, not me."
"Me? Having an affair is far different from eating people." Max scoffed.
I stepped out of Max's grasp and put my hands on my temples. "What are you talking about? Do you hear yourself, Max? This is wildly insane to accuse someone of--"
"I hear myself just fine. But do you hear me? Are you listening? Daisy, you need to pay attention to my words."
"Your words are absurd," I shot back. "He's not a cannibal." The words came out unsure, and I hated myself for it. Tears stung my eyes at the confession that I wasn't entirely sure.
"Daisy..." Gatsby warned.
Max strode over to me and tookme by the shoulders. "The parties. They were a front. He's been using them to cover what’s really taking place inside those walls."
"What are you talking about?" I shook my head. Max's eyes were wild, his pupils as large as the smile. It sent chills through me.
I wasn't safe.
"Dinner parties." He let me go and turned to face the room. Tuth and Neal were standing on opposite sides of the room, watching and waiting. Gatsby was glaring at him as if he thought he could murder Max with his eyes. Max used their expressions to fuel him. "Tell the room about the dinner parties, Gatsby. Tell them about all the men you've kidnapped, tortured, and eaten."
"That's not true," Gatsby said.
"Liar!" Max screamed. "I found one of your girls. They confessed everything. We had to stick one—" He paused and made the motion of a gun with his fingers and pressed it to the center of his forehead. "Right there so she'd keep quiet, but she was just another less dead, so it didn't matter."
"Less dead?" Tuth asked.
"Drug user or sex worker," Neal muttered, their true crime knowledge leaking out. They turned to Gatsby. "Tell me this isn't true."
"I said it wasn't," Gatsby spat.
"You're a good fucking liar." Max laughed. "But it doesn't matter. I'm going to tell everyone the truth and you'll be fucked. Good luck getting anyone to believe you. Your pretty face saved you once. It won't happen again." Max grabbed my hand and tugged me forward. "Come on, Daisy, we're going home."
"No." I ripped away, shaking my head as I repeated the word. "I'm leaving, but... I need to be alone." I looked around the room and went to Gatsby. "Give me your keys."
"What? Daisy, no, just come home with me," Gatsby pleaded.
