Page 98 of Range
When her eyes were finally with me again, they analyzed me. Studied me. Quietly.
With a crackling voice, she asked, “No cuffs?”
I shook my head, feeling the dagger as it pierced my chest.
“No cuffs.”
Silence.
There was something on the top of her dome. Something marinating in that pretty mind of hers.
“I’m listening, Sunshine.”
“Hm?”
“I’m listening.”
She lowered her body, taking a seat. Like a child that had been scolded, she looked up at me with remorseful eyes. I mentally prepared myself for news I wasn’t ready to receive as the dagger was pushed further into my chest.
“What’s the matter?” I questioned, erasing the space between us.
I pushed her chair up to the table. Her breath hiked in her chest as I rounded the table. She swallowed back, eyes pinning me to the wall behind me while I had a seat in front of her.
“Range–”
“He wasn’t the first,” she whispered.
My nostrils flared with uncertainty.
Silence.
“Josiah.”
Silence.
“Your uncle,” Range mouthed.
“You prefer soft colors over bold. Neutrals. You like playing in makeup. That probably stemmed from childhood. Dress up. Makeup. You get in your head quite a bit. Still, you’re trustworthy. In fact, you hold secrets the world will never know. You’re excellent at your job. You’re the best cleaner Huffington knows.
“You prioritize the people you love. Time, energy, and effort. You aren’t in search of validation. They’ve told you all your life you’re capable, loved, beautiful, and of a different pedigree. You haven’t loved. Not hard and not long and not right, yet, at least.
“You’re lonely. Even when you’re not alone, lonesomeness still lingers. Your heart is heavy even when it’s light. You have been clinically diagnosed with autism. Late. it hasn’t always been on your medical charts. You’re navigating. You understand that it works for you more than it does against you.
“You don’t embrace it. You accept it. You’re not afraid to leave. Situations. People. Projects. Places. Things. You cling to nothing. You understand when it’s time to move on and you do so.”
“Josiah, that has–”
“I want to be clear, Range. I want to be clear about one thing.”
She released a shaky breath.
“I know you. I’ve analyzed. I’ve predicted. I’ve observed. Every word. Every movement. Every inhale. Every exhale. Every eye twitch. Every response. Every step. Every piece of clothing. Every inch of your frame. I’ve taken that information back to my cell to break it down, process it, store it, recap, and adjust. Because, there’s just something about you that won’t leave me. Or maybe it’s everything.”
“We need to discuss your case, Josiah. I’m moving forward wit–”
She was deflected. She was running. She was voiding.
“You understand when it’s time to move on and you do so,” I repeated.
