ONE
The sounds of chains dragging along the path was aggravating but hardly a factor of my liberation. Physically, I was confined, but mentally, I was elsewhere. I was the destination for the unworldly creature who had graced me with her presence just minutes ago. Because she didn’t need to spend her Friday morning behind steel doors, across the steel table from a man wrapped in chains, I freed her.
I pulled the flesh of the wall of mouth between my teeth, nearly drawing blood as I recalled those curious, anguished eyes. Sadness rested on those orbs. Though collected, baby was falling apart. She masked her misalignment well.
My nostrils widened as the lack of clarity in her diamonds reminded me of the presence in her life. He couldn’t handle a ring purchased. I’d be damned if he could handle her.
Thoughts of her lingered as I turned the second corner. An unfamiliar face rounded the triangle, hands aimed for my frame. The chains were silenced at once. All movement halted.
“Hasting,” the guard behind me called out, voice panic stricken.
I tilted my head rightward, waiting for the first mistake of Hasting’s day to be made.
The two pairs of eyes both traveled in the direction of the voice behind me.
“Yeah?”
“Nah– I got it.”
“He’s going to–”
As he spoke, his hand lowered, prepared to put his dick beaters where they didn’t belong.
“Hands to yourself, Hasting,” I warned.
“If you want your job, I suggest you let me handle this one.”
“My job? Nigga, I–”
“Or your life,” I breathed out, my shoulders lifting and falling.
“Was that a threat?”
My eyes remained forward, trained on Hasting. The hand that was once near my frame was now against the frame of his bifocals, pushing them up further on his face.
Silence thickened the tension between him and his co-worker. Because their unpleasantries weren’t my concern, I continued toward the next door, standing in front of it until I heard that familiar sound.
Bzzzzt.
Thoughts of her returned. Their disruption was disappointing.
Range.
Range Childers.
Her hair wasn’t wild. It wasn’t unkempt. Yet, it wasn’t kempt. And, it wasn’t tamed either. It was fluffy. It was piled on top of her head, hanging mid-back. Straight, but not flat. Her lips were full and dark and daring.
I felt them against mine long before she opened her mouth. I’d never been a man with a vivid imagination. Before my niece, I didn’t have an imagination at all. But, suddenly, it was clear. Suddenly, it was filled with reels of Range. Even with all of her darkness, however, she was a ray of sunshine in this dim reality.
Sunshine.
My lips curled into a smile. I wished it was my home she was headed to. My bed. My boat. My office. My lap. My arms. My chest.
Sunny Baby.
The softness of her hands was comforting. So were her differences from the rest of the world. While invisible to the naked eye, I identified her challenges upon entering the conference room. She was one of the special ones. So highly gifted in certain areas that others were considered deficiencies on the broad spectrum of human capabilities.
Neurodivergent.
