Tears streamed down my face as I held out my palm. "Please give me your keys."
He dug into his suit and dropped them into my hand. I turned back to the room. My eyes fell to Max, and I raised my hands, pulling off my engagement ring. I pinched it between my fingers. He stared at it.
"You act like you're so much better than me, Daisy." Max shook his head. "I'd venture to say you're worse. Go, leave the ring if you want, abandon our relationship just like you've abandoned everything else. Have you even told yourgreen lightabout Lydia? Or how we met? Why we're together at all? Why you need me?"
The air seemed to leave the room as panic jolted my system.
"He doesn't know, does he?"
"I have to go." I set the ring on the table and fled the room, speeding through the restaurant and to Gatsby's car. The waitress hadn't exaggerated. The rain was brutal, and the twenty feet to the car had me soaked head to toe. I ripped the car door open, and as I was shutting it, I heard Tuth scream my name. I ignored them and shut the door, turning the car on and yanking it into reverse. I peeled out of the parking lot and onto the road.
The rain, mixed with my blurred vision from crying, made it hard to see the road. I searched for street signs, trying to get my bearings. I didn't drive myself much, let alone at night in bad weather. I drove around, avoiding high traffic, until I saw a sign that made my heart soar and sink simultaneously. I turned right and followed the signs that led me to the Tennant.
I parked in the back and ran to the door. Gatsby's key ring had dozens of keys, and I began trying them, findingthe right one eventually. I hurried inside and breathed a sigh of relief. Finally, I was out of the rain.
I could think.
I flicked lights on as I walked toward my dressing room. I just needed to sit, dry off, and absorb what Max had said. It couldn't be true, could it?
The image of Gatsby placing that bite of steak in his mouth while making eye contact with Max came to mind.
It could be, I realized.
The signs were there.
If he hadn't been accused before, would anyone even consider accusing him of such a horrifying crime?
I stopped short in my tracks when I turned a corner and saw the lights that led to the dressing rooms on.
"Hello?" I took a cautious step forward and then another. "Hello, is someone here?" I went to my dressing room and turned the handle. The light was on. I stiffened when I heard a quick shuffling of plastic. Someone was in here. What did I do?
Feeling brave, I shoved the door open, and stared at my intruder.
Lilly sat at my vanity table, in a leotard and tutu, covering her face inmymakeup. All of the things Gatsby had bought for me. I recognized the clothes from my closet he'd filled. And the lipsticks, perfumes, and blushes, all of my makeup had been a gift from Gatsby to me as well. There she was, my doppelgänger, my biggest fan, my stalker, trying to be me.
She leaped up. "Daisy, I—What'sin your hand?"
I came to sometime later, unsure of where I was, what time it was, or what had happened. Had I passed out? I looked around, finding myself in my dressing room at the Tennant.
How did I get here?
I stood and turned to look at the mirror. My reflection made me pale. I stared, my hand going to my face, touching it to make sure this was real. It only made the mess worse. I stepped back and looked around the room in a panic. I spun around, my hands frantically roaming my body, searching for something that I knew in my soul wasn't there. I was confused, but I knew that I wasn't able to remember because my mind was saving me from knowing, but there were larger questions than how did I get there.
I needed to figure out why I was covered in blood.
Chapter 51
Gatsby
Steam pouredfrom my nose as I breathed in and out, never taking my eyes off the bastard that thought he had my Daisy.
Max laughed dryly and sauntered back to the table, where he pulled out his chair and sat back down, as if nothing had happened. He reached for his fork and knife and, while we all stared at him, he cut his steak and took another bite.
"Sit." He pointed to me with his fork. "This meal is expensive. Might as well eat. Probably a little different than the meat you're used to, but?—"
He was cut off by me letting out a guttural cry from my chest and running toward the table. He fell over in his chair, and I yanked him out by his shirt and threw him to the ground.
Tuth and Neal let out sharp cries and demands for us to stop, but there was no going back. I swung my fist at his face, connecting with his nose. It let out a loud popping sound as it broke. Max fought back, kicking, rolling, andattempting to punch while holding a hand to his face. I kept going though, continuing to lay swing after swing on him.
