Emmett looked at his mother, then back at Dale. Still whimpering, but the screaming had stopped.
Dale slowly extended his hand, not to grab Emmett, just offering it. “You don’t gotta come to me. But if you want to, I got strong arms. And I promise, I won’t let nothing hurt you.”
Dale took it gently. “There we go. You’re doing so good, buddy.”
Slowly, carefully, Dale sat down in the room’s chair and opened his arms. To everyone’s shock, Emmett climbed out of his mother’s lap and into the biker’s arms. He was still crying, still scared, but something about Dale felt safe.
Dale settled Emmett against his chest, the toddler’s ear right over his heart. Then he started doing something odd—he made a low rumbling sound with his chest. Not quite humming, more like a motorcycle engine idling. A steady, deep vibration.Continue reading…
