I reach across the console and grasp her tiny hand in my much larger one, the need to touch her overwhelming. “What’s wrong?” I ask gently. Before I met Emerson, I didn’t know I had a soft bone in my body. I mean, I kill people for a living, but she brings it out in me. Hiding under the tough exterior, she shows everyone is someone in need of softness, and I want to be that for her.
