Max shoved my shirt up, and I tugged it back down, clawing at his hands and arms and chest as I tried to kick him off me.
“Max, stop!” I yelled, and with one final kick, I managed to throw him off me. He rolled onto the floor with a grunt. I sat up, brushed myself off, and looked around the room. This wasn’t the life I wanted. I never wanted any of this. Tears ran down my face as I stepped over Max. “I need to go.”
“Go where, exactly?”
I froze, turning back. He stood and strode to me, grabbing my chin. He pinched me hard. His hardened gray eyes bore down on me. “Like it or not, you’re not going anywhere without me, Daisy. You’ve gotten comfortable with your mouth. You think just because you’re famoushere, you can say and do whatever, but no wife of mine will act like this.”
He shoved his mouth onto mine, bruising my lips. As he let me go, I stumbled back. He laughed, hands on his hips.
“I don’t know why I even try so hard here. Go—” He waved me away. “Go to bed, call your cousin and cry about it. It doesn’t matter. We’re getting married September 23rd and then we’re moving. You’ll never see this place again.”
Chapter 35
Gatsby
“You did all of these?”Neal looked up from one of my many sketchbooks. We were in my den, having a nightcap. I’d been going crazy lately, not being able to speak to Daisy every moment of the day, so I brought Neal over to keep me company. They more than enjoyed spending time down at the bar, or testing out Jules’ culinary concoctions.
“I did.” I nodded. “Most of them when I was locked up.”
They brought the book over to the chair across from me and plopped down. “It’s still hard to think that you were in prison. What was it like? Was everyone scared of you, because—” They motioned to their mouth.
“I don’t like to talk about my time in jail. But, if you must know, yes. As it turns out, if people think you’ll eat them alive, they don’t want to get too close.”
“Fair. So do you still tattoo then? I’d love to get one if this is what you can do. This shit is good, man.” They turned the pages of the notebook and flashed me a drawing of a scarecrow I’d done. “Tattoo me.”
I sipped my drink, and when I didn’t reply, they argued their case further.
“It can be payment for helping you with Daisy.”
I raised my eyebrows and sat up fully. “Is this a threat?”
They shrunk into their seat. “No, I mean, I was just—” They stumbled over their words until I cracked a smile and started to laugh. They relaxed and flipped me off, swearing.
“Don’t do this, asshole. I’m still not sold on the ‘you not eating people’ thing.”
“I’m not a cannibal.” I stood and went to the bookshelf, pulling out another notebook full of drawings. “I am, however, very pro-cannibalism.”
“Eat the rich.” Neal nodded with a fist in the air and the conversation returned to them getting a tattoo from me. I pulled a few books out and we began pouring through them. It was refreshing to see genuine interest in my art. My mom never cared growing up. The only reason she supported me with supplies was to keep me from telling people what she was making me do.
That wasn’t the reason I stayed quiet, though.
Shame, horror, guilt. That was what made me afraid to come forward. Not fucking pencils.
The jails didn’t care either. There were plenty of artists behind bars, many far better than me. They did teach me how to make tattoo machines and ink, though, and from there, I was able to hone my craft.
“You don’t get to talk about your art much, do you?” Neal asked after they’d picked out what they wanted me to tattoo on them.
“No, not really. The only person who ever cared was Daisy.” My decent mood shifted down, as I missed her again. “She was the first person I ever tattooed.”
“I knew it!” they shouted and clapped their hands excitedly. “I fucking knew it. She’d always beenso secretive about that tattoo. Our Nona lost her shit when she saw it. I asked her about it all the time and she refused to tell me anything. Ha, that’s... that’s crazy, man.” They frowned, and their face took on a twinge of sadness. “She’s really loved you that long.”
“We,” I clarified. “We’ve loved each other for that long.”
“Right, yeah, of course.” Their phone rang, and they moved to answer it. “Hey, Tuth, what’s up?”
Their brows furrowed.
“That’s weird. Have you spoken to her since?”
