Days With Zion Dawsey

2. Nightmares

The room was silent. The attention was on Zion. On Zion alone. The judge that sat in front of him opened his mouth...and closed it again. He didn't know what to say. This was supposed to be a simple divorce between Bonnie Stewart and her fourth husband, Jeffrey. But Zion came out of nowhere, disturbing the process.

"Sir, the divorce is peaceful. Miss Stewart will get custody of her son." The judge eventually started to explain.
"No, Sir. I do not agree with that." Zion said and everybody frowned.

"Your opinion isn't relevant to this, Zion." He heard Bonnie say and turned to look at her.
"Yes it is. He is my son." Loud and surprised gasps filled the room. The judge needed a second before using his hammer as a weak attempt to silent everyone. But the damage was already done.

"I knew it!" Came from the back of the rows somewhere. Everybody's eyes turned towards the person that just stood up in rage. Zion's and Bonnie's eyes widened. Sheryl Dawsey's face mirrored the anger she felt. She was holding onto something with her left hand but Zion couldn't see what it was. 

"You lied to me. All these years you lied to me. You're my only son!" Then she muttered something under her breath but no one in the room seemed to acoustically understand her.
"Please speak up, Misses Dawsey." The judge demanded.

"I said unfortunately. Unfortunately, he's my only son. You!" She pointed a finger at Zion.
"You took my husband, my first born and now my grandson away from me! You're the devil! The devil, do you hear me?!" She cried and suddenly broke down. Gasps errupted again and all Zion did was stand there.

"Zion Dawsey, is that true?" The judge asked him and everybody was quiet again. He nodded, not being able to say anything.
"Very well. For your sins, you shall be decapitated." The judge swung his hammer again, declaring Zion Dawsey's death.

It was dark when he woke up. Dark and cold in his room. Yet, Zion was sweating as he rubbed his eyes. What time was it? He glanced at his nightstand, five a.m. Zion rolled his eyes and let his head fall back onto his pillow. By now, he should've been used to a strange dream like that. After all, he has had those for the past few months. Yet, every new one shocks him to the bones.

.

"Sir, your 5 p.m. appointment is here. Shall I let Mister Kent in?" Michael, Zion's personal assistant let him know as he popped his head into his office. Zion simply nodded his head and waited until the man sat right in front of him.

"What can I do for you, Mister Kent?" Zion refrained from narrowing his eyes. Cirus Kent was only three years younger than him, yet it felt weird for Zion to call him Mister Kent. Maybe because usually he was the youngest Mister when it came to business colleagues, but maybe it was also because the man had no experience. 

Cirus Kent was the son of Hank Kent, the founder of Kent industries. They sell fabrics and stuff like that. He was not an important acquaintance of Zion's, yet the man insisted on meeting him. Zion let him wait for a few months, but the man didn't seem to hold a grudge.

"Well I was hoping to convince you for a partnership with-"
"No, thank you." Zion knew how that sentence was going to end. He had no intention on partnering up with Kent industries, nor did he feel like wasting his time talking to that man. 

"But you haven't even-"
"Save it. I already have an amazing fabric company for my products. They are always on point when it comes to quality and quantity. I'm happy with them and I am not in need of partnering up with any other fabric industry, seeing as I hardly ever need fabric anyways." Zion interrupted again. 

Cirus Kent was red in the face, most likely trying to hold back his anger. Zion studied him silently, interested in his next moves. But Cirus simply stared, seemingly having forgotten about the purpose of his appointment. Zion's eyes narrowed when the man suddenly started smirking.

"Thank you anyways, Mister Dawsey." Mister Kent said as he stood up and offered his hand. Out of politeness, Zion stood up as well and the two men shook hands. Without another word, Kent strode out of his office. Zion shook his head and sat back down. He had declined many offers in the past but never got a reaction like that. So calm and indifferent. That just proved Zion's first impression of the guy. He had no idea what he was doing.

Many hours later when he finally decided to go home, Zion drove over to his mother's house. He has been doing that for the past few months as well. Ever since he lied to her about the Stewart's baby, he hasn't talked to her. She has sent him letters but he never answered. He just parked his car in front of the house. His mother would always be on the other side of the house, probably drinking tea and reading a magazine.

He would wait for ... what exactly? Maybe he was waiting for her to spot him, come out and slap some sense into him. He just hated the guilty feeling. He had never lied to her before. Not ever since he did what he did. He had promised himself not to ever disappoint her again. Yet, here he was, not talking to her and lying to her at the same time. He was a disgrace, he thought every time he looked at his mother's house.

A single tear left his eye before he started up the engine again. But before he could drive off, another car passed him, stopping him from getting out of his parking spot. He waited patiently and just casually glanced at the driver. And then he looked away. 

But then he looked back at the driver, getting a glance of her hair right before she was out of sight. His eyes widened. What was she doing in this neighbourhood?!

Zion quickly drove after her, leaving some space between them but he knew that she must've realized that he was following her. But he didn't care. If she stopped and confronted him, he would get answers as to what the hell she was doing in his mother's neighbourhood. 

But Ebony Stewart didn't stop. Maybe she just didn't see him when she passed his car. But she drove as if nothing bothered her. Her car stopped only a few houses later. Her red bmw x6 stopped in the driveway of a white house. Zion watched her turn off the lights in the car and heard her engine come to a halt. 

Bonnie stepped outside wearing a black dress, her hair was pulled into a pony, the highlights from a year ago already gone. She opened the back door and a few seconds later, she carried a sleeping child in her arms. Zion averted his gaze.

He shook his head and started to drive off after a minute, knowing she was out of hearing range. It looked like she lived there now. And that, for some reason, did not make Zion happy.