He shook his head and pulled his hand away.
“I can’t. As great as that sounds… Ican’t. I—” He huffed, as if his tongue was tied. Staring off for a long moment, his expression hardened and he looked at me with cold eyes. “Daisy, you need to go. I am going to be arrested. If you’re still here when they put the handcuffs on me, I’ll plead guilty at my trial.”
“Gatsby.” I shook my head in disbelief. He was going to purposely get arrested? Why was he already thinking about a trial? My chin trembled, and the tears returned. Why would he do this?
“Please, Daisy, stop asking questions. I can’t answer them. I just need you to get the fuck out of here. Leave now, before anyone sees you. If you leave now, I’ll fight at the trial. I’ll plead innocent and then fight to get back to you.”
Shaking my head and backing up, I tripped over the body. I stumbled, but caught myself on the large oak table. Gripping the edges, I looked around. This was a nightmare. None of this made any sense.
How had he even found this place? I’d followed him all the way from our hotel to this large mansion. He knew exactly where to go and how to get past the enormous wrought-iron gates. He’d walked in cautiously, but once inside he seemed confident in where he was going. I only knew a small fraction of the story, and I’d inserted myself right in the middle, screwing up whatever plans he’d had for the end of it.
“You can’t go to jail. You’re supposed to join the military.” I sniffled, wiped my cheeks, and continued, “That was the plan, remember? We were going to run away together, and then you were getting on the bus to join the Army, and I would go to New York for ballet school. And after your four years, you’d join me in New York. You’ll find a tattoo artist to apprentice under, and then eventually open up your own shop, and I’ll be a Prima Ballerina at a company, and we’ll live happily ever after. Gatsby, this wasthe plan!” I shouted, stomping my foot like a petulant child.
His sad eyes told me that this was never the plan. He’d deceived me. This… this dead woman in this fancy mansion-- that had been the plan. But why? Why get arrested on purpose? Why go to jail? Why not just come with me?
“Daisy, this is your last warning. If you don’t leave, I’ll let them fry me. This is a death penalty state. Leave.”
“And what? Forget you?” I cried. “Am I supposed to pretend I wasn’t here? Just go on, be the next Prima Ballerina, become famous, and forget everything? I can’t, Gatsby.” I collapsed, dropping to my knees, sobbing. I could never forget him. Until my last breath, his name would fill my lungs.
He sighed and returned to me, crouching beside me. He lifted my face again, holding my chin.
“No, I don’t want you to forget me,” he whispered. “I want the opposite, actually.” He urged me to stand and took me into his arms. I relished the feeling of his warm skin. I memorized his hard muscles, his scent, and everything else about him. I knew this would be the last touch we’d have. He moved just enough to press a kiss to my lips, allowing me to be the first one to pull away.
Wiping a tear away with his thumb, he stared into my brown eyes.
“Daisy, listen to me. I need you to leave. Go become the famous ballerina you are destined to be. I need to stay here. I don’t have much time, and I have stuff to do. I’ll come for you when I can.”
I shook my head. “How will you come for me if you’re arrested?”
“I can’t explain, but I will. Do you believe in the green light?”
“What?” I blinked. I didn’t understand him. Why werewe talking about The Great Gatsby right now? My eyes shot to the body, then him again.
He repeated the question.
“Just… wait for me. Okay?” Gatsby’s green eyes suddenly flooded with a look of pure desperation. “Don’t forget me.”
I swallowed my fears.
I didn’t want to leave, but I had to. I knew he was right, in my heart of hearts. Gatsby had always known the right thing to do. He had a plan, and I had to trust him.
I did believe in the green light. In us.
I stepped out of his arms and walked to the door, pausing to turn back one last time before I left forever.
“Daisy?”
“Yes, Gatsby?”
“Don’t believe what the news is going to tell you about me.”
Chapter 2
Daisy
Three Years later
Emile Dumas - Cannibal,Gets Death Penalty.
