Page 42 of Gideon
NAOMI
The morning came quickly, and still my thoughts plagued me. I wanted to trust him. It was right there, right in front of me and ripe for the taking. I wanted it. This deep part of me felt like it had started to wake up after a long slumber. It would have been easy to push it away, to tuck it back down deep within me where I could pretend it didn’t exist, but he had to come here last night and have that talk with me.
That talk changed everything. Or at least it felt like it had. It made me question everything I knew, everything I had planned. What would happen if I gave in? If I told him the truth and allowed him to touch the innermost part of me? What would happen if I let go of that safety I held like a fortress, protecting me from this violent life I had been thrust into unwillingly at such a tender age?
What would happen if I didn’t? Would I lose out on the opportunity to not be alone for the first time in all these years? Would I lose out on the possibility of something real? Perhaps if I did, I could be myself for the first time since coming to this hellhole.
I didn’t know what to do. I had absolutely no idea.
Gideon, much to my appreciation, made himself scarce, leaving me to my thoughts. His thoughtfulness was not lost on me. He had been true to his word at every turn, which only furthered my confusion. He was easy to deal with when he was being his usual smug self. But this was something different. Different, yet no less real.
I walked circles around the house, lost in thought and drowning in conflict with my convictions. He didn’t check on me once, trusting me to come to him if I had an issue or if I was ready to talk. Honesty. I wasn’t used to it. Least of all from a Temple.
Perhaps that was what made it even more difficult to understand, or to trust. To trust Gideon meant I was trusting the son of one of my kidnappers. That thought terrified me to no end. But I could not ignore the truth. Gideon was nothing like his father. Those two truths, the fact that he was a Temple, and yet nothing like the Temple I knew, confused me. I couldn’t see my way out of this conflict.
I needed more time. I needed clarity.
I looked out of the window, noting the beautiful way the setting sun had just begun to paint the sky into a golden hued masterpiece. If I believed in a God, this would be proof of his handiwork. As it was, I couldn’t believe in a God who allowed young girls to be taken; to be put through what they had put me through.
I saw Gideon on the deck of the Ataraxia, stretching as he took a break from his restorations. He looked out onto the water, his profile still in view enough for me to see the smile light his face up with joy. That man and his water. He loved it in a way I didn’t understand. Though, that night on the lake had given me a glimpse of why he loved it so.
What would it be like to go out on the water with him now, knowing him the way I did? The thought struck sharp and took hold. Perhaps the clarity the water gave him could spare some for me. It was worth a shot.
I slipped on my shoes, throwing caution to the wind, and made my way to the Ataraxia in search of clarity.
“Naomi?” Gideon called from the deck above me as I neared his prized boat.
“Hey, can you come down for a second?” I called back, shielding my eyes from the bright sun that still filtered through the clouds as it sank ever closer towards the horizon line. He climbed down the ladder with a skilled ease and I found myself watching the way his muscles rippled, pulling at his taut shirt. It reminded me just how strong he was, how those slightly calloused fingers felt against my skin, against my most intimate places.
I shook the thoughts from my head as he walked toward me. I did not need to think about things that only confused and befuddled me further.
“What’s up, Naomi?” he asked, that smirk etched over his face, making my heartbeat quicken.
“I was wondering if you might do me a favor,” I began.
“Anything,” he answered enthusiastically, his hands hooked into his back pockets as he rocked back on his heels, looking every bit of the boyish charmer that he was.
“Can we go out on your boat?” I watched as his eyes lit up with so much excitement it was almost laughable. This adorable, charming side of him was nearly impossible to not fall for. I was already falling too much. Too much, too fast.
“You want to sail?” he asked. I swore if he were a puppy, he would be wagging his tail.
“I do. I still need some time, but I thought the fresh air and the water might do me some good,” I shrugged, kicking at a piece of gravel at the toe of my shoe.
“There is nothing like it,” he sighed, looking over at his smaller boat. “When?” He turned back to me, his eyes sparkling with expectant excitement.
“Now?” I asked, looking at him hopefully.
“Fuck yes!” He actually clapped his hands and did this ridiculous little happy dance that had me giggling like a young schoolgirl. I felt like one with him today. Gone was the earlier vitriol and hatred I had held for the man. I’d seen a different side of him and I couldn’t ignore it. Make no mistake, I still wanted to snap at him and snark, but there was something else now. Something deeper and more true than I had previously understood. I offered him a small smile as he took my hand and pulled me down to the small sailboat tied to the dock.
He stepped onto the deck, situating himself as the boat rocked before holding a hand out to me. There was something in that moment. In his open expression, his grin of excitement, and his offered hand of trust. It clenched hard around my heart and refused to let go.
I took his hand and let him steady my way onto the boat. I found my seat and watched him fiddle and situate the ropes and sails as we pushed away from the dock. It was something I hadn’t paid attention to before, but now I knew better. I watched his hands work with a new understanding of just how talented he was with rope. It was his love, just as much as this boat was.
He moved us around the dock and out into the water with such practiced ease. It was breathtaking to watch. In no time at all, we were sailing; the wind caught in the canvas as we jetted easily through the water. The mist sprayed us lightly as the sky moved from golden beams to pinkish-purple watercolor art before us. I tilted my head back, closing my eyes as I let all the stress I felt seep out of my body and onto the fresh cooling breeze.
He stayed silent as we moved along the water, sitting near me, but giving me space at the same time. We both let the moment cleanse us, ridding us of our thoughts and troubles. I could feel it from both of us.
“Again?” he asked as he neared the dock, having turned the boat around sometime before. The sun had nearly set, but I wasn’t ready to be done. Not yet.
