Page 4 of Breaker

But as I looked at the woman, her face flushed and her breathing labored, I knew I had no choice. Her well-being had to come first, no matter how uncomfortable it made me.

I nodded, my jaw tight. “All right. I’ll get it ready.”

As I turned toward the bathroom, Dread’s voice stopped me. “You’re doing the right thing. Don’t doubt that.”

I swallowed hard, the knot in my chest loosening slightly. “Thanks, Dread.”

With a deep breath, I stepped into the bathroom, my mind already racing ahead. I knew what I had to do, even if every fiber of my being rebelled against it.

But as I turned on the tap, the sound of running water filling the room, I couldn’t shake the feeling that this moment was a test. A chance to prove to myself, and to that poor soul on my bed, that I was an honorable and trustworthy man. Someone who wouldn’t take advantage of a woman in need.

I tested the water with my hand, ensuring it was warm, but not too hot. The last thing I wanted was to cause her any more discomfort. As the tub filled, I grabbed a soft washcloth and a towel, setting them within easy reach.

My heart pounded as I returned to the bedroom, my gaze falling on the woman’s fragile form. She looked so small, so vulnerable. I approached the bed slowly, as if any sudden movement might shatter the moment.

“Hey,” I murmured, my voice rough with emotion. “I’m going to help you into the bath, all right? We need to cool you down.”

Her eyes fluttered open, glassy and unfocused. “B-bath?” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

“Yeah. We need to get your fever down. I promise I’m only going to help you. You’re safe.”

With gentle hands, I peeled back the thin coat she’d been wearing, my breath catching as I took in the sight of her. The fabric of her sweater and jeans clung to her curves, emphasizing the lines of her body. I swallowed hard, forcing myself to focus on the task at hand.

“I’ll wait outside the door,” Dread said, stepping out into the hall.

Slowly, reverently, I began to undress her. My fingers trembled as I exposed the mottled and bruised skin on her legs. I averted my gaze, determined to preserve her modesty, even as my pulse raced at the intimacy of the moment. Shit. It had been too long since I’d slept with a woman if I was reacting to this pathetic little creature.

When she was fully undressed, I carefully lifted her into my arms, cradling her against my chest. The heat of her skin seared through my shirt, a reminder of the fever that raged within her. I carried her into the bathroom, lowering her gently into the warm water.

As I began to bathe her, my touch was featherlight, my movements careful and deliberate. I kept my eyes firmly on her face, watching for any sign of discomfort or distress. But she remained still, her eyes closed, her breathing shallow.

I ran the washcloth over her skin, and I couldn’t help but marvel at the softness of her, the gentle beauty that seemed to radiate from within. Even in her weakened state, there was a strength to her, a resilience that took my breath away.

I needed to keep her safe from the dangers that lurked beyond these walls. I didn’t know why she’d been on the streets, but I’d make sure she never had to live in dark alleys ever again. The depth of my feelings surprised me, the intensity of my desire to shield her from harm.

But as I looked at the woman, her face peaceful as she dozed, I knew something bigger was going on. Deeper. Almost as if something had taken root in my very soul. It was complete madness. I had no idea who she was, how old she was, or if she’d want my help once she was entirely lucid.

Despite all that, my gut said I’d found her for a reason… that this woman was meant to be mine.

As I gently dried her off, my hands moved with a tenderness I didn’t know I possessed. Her skin was soft and warm beneath the towel. I reached for one of my clean T-shirts, carefully maneuvering her limp arms through the sleeves, my fingers grazing her skin.

I lifted her into my arms once more, carrying her to my bed. Dread had come back into the room at some point, and I noticed a clean set of sheets on the bed. I laid her down, pulling the covers up to her chin. I brushed a stray lock of hair from her face, my fingertips trailing along her cheek in a gentle caress.

The sound of heavy footsteps pulled me from my thoughts, and I turned to see Fox and Rocket filling the doorway, their presence commanding and authoritative. The air grew thick with tension as they surveyed the scene before them, their gazes shifting from the woman’s sleeping form to me.

“What’s going on here?” Fox demanded, his voice low and gruff.

I met his gaze head-on. “I found her in the alley, sick and alone. I couldn’t just leave her there.”

Rocket stepped forward, his blue eyes piercing. “You know the rules. We don’t bring outsiders into the compound. Not without permission.”

I nodded, my jaw clenching. “I know, but she needed help. I couldn’t turn my back on her. She’s sick, and she would have died if I’d left her in the alley.”

Fox’s gaze softened slightly, a flicker of understanding passing over his features. “Tell us everything, from the beginning.”

As I recounted the events of the night, I could feel the weight of their gazes upon me. My heart ached for her, and I swore I wouldn’t let her disrupt the club in any way. I could understand why Fox would be concerned. The club had been through a lot over the years, and quite a bit of it happened because of women. Hell,allof it had.

When I finished, Fox and Rocket exchanged a long look, a silent conversation passing between them. Finally, Fox turned to me, his expression unreadable.

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