Page 28 of Gideon
“Are you a man of Zion?” she asked. I could see a thousand questions burning behind those stunning eyes, her gaze piercing me with an intensity that nearly left me breathless.
“In name only,” I admitted, holding my breath as I waited for her reaction.
“Explain,” she replied, her eyes narrowing at me as she spoke that one solitary word.
“Can we sit? I would like to talk to you. I would like to tell you everything,” I asked, holding my hand out to her. She eyed it warily, still not sure if she could trust me or not. I couldn’t blame her. If I were in her shoes, I wasn’t sure I would trust me either. “I promise you are safe. We are just going to talk,” I tried to communicate my sincerity.
I swore I could see a glimmer, just a glimpse, of regret pass over her face before she covered it with the same distrust and hesitancy she’d held before. Finally, she took my hand. I inwardly felt myself relax, breathing a sigh of relief as I led her to the bed in the cabin.
“Let’s sit. I want to explain it all to you,” I repeated, sitting on the edge of the mattress. She sat next to me, though about as far away from me as she could, while still sitting on the edge of the bed. “Where should I begin? With the Dominant part, or the Zion part?”
I wanted her honest answer.
“I am not sure. None of it makes sense to me, to be honest,” she whispered. There was a smallness to her now, one I was not used to seeing. I didn’t like it. Not one bit.
“Well, I suppose I’ll just start at the beginning. Sort of. I am a Son of Zion, as you know. But I don’t want to be. And I won’t be for much longer.” The statement held a weight that I had carried within me for a long time. Stating it out loud — I had done that plenty of times; to my brothers, even to people at Abditory. But saying it to her? It was different. It was heavy.
“You won’t be for much longer?” she repeated, questioning my words.
“No. My brothers and I have a plan. A plan to leave this place for good and never look back,” I admitted. I wished she would just look up, to see the truth in my eyes for a moment, but she kept her gaze down, looking at her hands, which she was busy wringing in her lap. Out of nervousness, I supposed.
“It’s a long story, one I want to share with you tonight. I want you to know the truth, Naomi. It’s all I want. What you do with it from there, that’s up to you. But you deserve the truth. Lord knows there is little enough truth to be found here in Zion,” I scoffed and, to my great pleasure, she smiled. Just the tiniest smirk of her lips, but it was enough to flood me with hope. Hope that she would at least hear me. Just this once.
With a heavy sigh, she replied, “I’m listening.”
“Good,” I said with a smile. “It all started a few years ago, when Levi went out on an errand from the Reverend to find a car part. Sometimes I still can’t believe that something so mundane led to all of this. Long story short, he took too many wrong turns when he was in St. George, and found himself not in a pawn shop like he had planned, but in a BDSM dungeon called Abditory.”
“Abditory? What kind of name is that?” she scoffed. I laughed along with her.
“Yeah, it’s a weird name, but I like it,” I shrugged.
“You do like weird names,” she giggled.
“How so?” I asked, puzzled by her comment.
“Um, Ataraxia? Come on, Gideon,” she scoffed. I shrugged her comment off, choosing to continue with my story instead.
“Anyway, he discovered Abditory, and through it, kink. One by one, my brothers and I were all introduced to the place, wanting to know and understand what had captivated Levi. And one by one, we all found ourselves entangled in a new world. A world that showed us who we really are, and showed us what Zion really is,” I explained.
“And what is Zion?” she asked. There was something in her voice, something I couldn’t quite put my finger on. As though she were waiting to see how I answered this question in particular. I was worried; worried she would hear the truth and go running back to Zion and tell everyone what we had planned. That could have disastrous consequences. I could barely stomach the thought of it. But I had to be honest. It was the only way.
“Zion is a goddamn cult.” I spit the words out quickly, ripping the bandaid off and hoping that underneath it wasn’t a gunshot wound instead of a scratch.
“You really believe that?” she asked timidly, her hands wringing themselves together in her lap with such pressure it surprised me she wasn’t rubbing the skin raw.
“With all my fucking heart. It’s nothing more than a greedy, sinister group of men who want to control people and force them to do their bidding. Especially women,” I stated resolutely and with absolute sincerity.
“Thank God,” she breathed out in the heaviest breath imaginable.
“I’m sorry, what?” I asked, befuddled and completely taken aback by her comment.
“Thank God,” she repeated, the biggest smile I’d yet seen on her face as she turned to look at me finally. I just looked back at her dumbly, not understanding her shift in demeanor in the slightest. “Thank God you feel that way, Gideon. I feel the same,” she admitted. I could tell it was not an easy thing for her to admit, not by a longshot.
“I’m confused,” I sputtered, but she took my hand and looked at me with such open acceptance it took my breath away.
“Later. Tell me the rest. Please,” she implored. I nodded my head, ready to continue.
“Zion is a toxic place, one we are more than ready to leave,” I continued.
