Page 15 of Theirs to Rule

I glanced at my watch. I’d been out here for five minutes.

I stood and approached the bathroom door and knocked. “Camille, dinner’s ready. Are you going to come out soon?”

Nothing.

I knocked again. “Camille.”

Again, nothing.

My mind immediately went to the razor I’d left by the sink. To the pain pills I still had in the cabinet from my motorcycle accident.

I hated what I was thinking but she was hurting. And I knew exactly the lengths a person would go to to erase their pain.

Chapter 7

Dante

Ijiggled the doorknob. Locked.

My heart pounded in my ears. “Camille, I’m coming in.”

I didn’t wait for permission. Grabbing the doorknob with both hands, I shoved my shoulder against the door. It gave after a couple of hard hits, the wood splintering around the lock.

I expected to feel the steam of a hot shower, but the air hit me like a slap. Cold. I barely had time to process before I saw Camille, fully clothed, sitting on the shower floor, knees pulled to her chest, water flowing over her. Her hair clung to her face, wet and heavy, the tears blending with the cold stream.

I felt a stab of panic as I rushed over, yanking the shower door open and reaching for her. But she didn’t even look at me. Not a flinch. Not a word. Nothing.

When the water hit me it was ice cold. I recoiled, shaking the shock off, and immediately turned the knob to shut it off. "Camille," I said gently, my hand coming to her face. “You’re freezing. We need to get you out of here.”

No response. Nothing.

I scooped her into my arms, my heart cracking as I felt her weight, small and fragile. Guilt twisted my insides, tighter than I wanted to admit. I should’ve seen this coming. I should’ve pushed her. I should’ve made her talk, scream, cry—anything to break through whatever this was.

Her teeth were chattering so hard, I thought she might break in my arms. I stripped her clothes off, feeling the chill of her skin against mine, pulling off the sodden fabric as carefully as I could. I grabbed the towel from the bathroom door, rubbing her hair and skin, trying to warm her up.

When I finally wrapped her in the towel, I lifted her again, carrying her to the bedroom. Her body felt like ice against me. I set her on the bed, running my hands over her arms, her back, trying to generate some heat, anything to bring her back from wherever she’d gone.

“You’re in pain, Peaches. I get it. But you have to take care of yourself. If you need to scream, cry, curl up and lose it, do it while I’m here.”

Nothing.

I shook her a little, frustration clawing at me. “Baby, answer me.”

Her eyes flickered, and for a moment, I didn’t know if she even recognized where she was. "Dante?" she whispered, her voice raw, confused.

"I’ve got you," I assured her, brushing a strand of hair from her face, feeling like I had to hold it all together for both of us.

"Dante, I..." Her voice cracked, and then she broke. She choked, her breath hitching before the sobs started, harsh and unrelenting. Thank God. She needed this.

“That’s it, baby. Get it out. Let me carry it for you.”

She clung to me, her nails digging into my skin as she sobbed. She beat at my chest at one point, and I didn’t stop her. I knew what she was really hitting. It wasn’t me— it was Kage.

And then she screamed. It was raw, painful, like a wound being torn open.

I held her tight, whispering soothing words, though I knew they couldn’t stop the flood of emotion she was drowning in. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you…”

Her grip tightened, her body shaking as her sobs grew harder. “Fuck, Dante,” she gasped, her voice barely a whisper as she buried her face against my chest. “Kage…he became a part of me. Who am I now? What should I do? I... I just don’t know.”

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