Page 152 of Corrupting Camille
A raw, animalistic cry claws its way out of my throat, echoing down the hallway, the sound utterly desperate, utterly broken. I curl into myself tighter, feeling the violent tremors that wrack my body, helpless against the waves of agony that crash through me again and again, relentless and unforgiving.
I never meant for him to matter this much. Never meant for him to become the air in my lungs, the pulse in my veins. But he did. God, he did.
And now?
Now, without Kane’s darkness, without his chaos, without the fierce, reckless truth he forced me to see, all I have left is a hollow ache, an emptiness so deep, so fucking painful, I don’t know how to keep breathing.
Because Kane didn’t just leave a mark on me, he shattered me completely. He stripped away every layer of carefully crafted lies and left me raw, vulnerable, alive. And then I used that life, that strength, to rip him apart in return.
My heart thrashes painfully against my ribs, as though trying to escape the wreckage I’ve made. I drag myself up on shaking legs, the hallway spinning around me, vision swimming with unshed tears, regret bitter and acidic in my mouth.
I force myself forward, but I can still feel him behind me, the phantom heat of his rage, his pain, his heartbreak. It clings to my skin, to my soul, an invisible stain I know I’ll never be able to scrub clean.
And as I stumble away from the destruction I’ve left behind, I realize the most brutal truth of all:
Without Kane Rivera, I’m not just empty.
I’m nothing at all.
***
The night air hits me hard, sharp and icy against my skin, making me shiver violently as I stagger out onto the pavement in front of the Langford. My pulse still hammers wildly, a ragged drumbeat in my chest that refuses to settle. Each breath feels like it’s tearing at the edges of my lungs, raw and agonizing.
I freeze as I spot the sleek black car waiting silently at the curb.
Kane.
A wave of fresh agony sweeps over me, making me sway on unsteady legs. He arranged this. Even after everything I said, everything I destroyed, he still arranged a safe ride home.
I choke back another wave of nausea as the driver’s side door opens, revealing Joaquin stepping quietly onto the sidewalk, his expression unreadable, professional, yet somehow shadowed by disappointment. By judgment.
Because Joaquin knows.
Of course, he knows.
“Miss Sinclair,” he greets me evenly, carefully neutral, but his dark eyes hold too much understanding, too much knowledge.
I hesitate, rooted to the spot, my entire body trembling uncontrollably. Going home right now feels impossible. Returning to that quiet, sterile mansion and facing the lies I chose over Kane, I can’t do it. Not yet.
Instead, I force the words from my throat, voice rough, almost unrecognizable. “Can you…can you please take me somewhere else?”
His eyebrows lift slightly in surprise, but he nods without question, pulling open the back passenger door. “Of course. Where to?”
“Lena’s.” My voice shakes, breaking on her name, and I quickly give him the address. I slide into the backseat, the scent of leather and luxury wrapping around me like a cruel reminder, familiar and aching, impossibly him.
I reach for my phone, fingers trembling violently as I quickly type out a message to Lena.
I’m coming over.
I hit send before I can overthink, before I can explain…because how the hell do I explain this?
Joaquin pulls the car away smoothly, and the silence that fills the interior is suffocating, drowning me in all the words I’ve left unsaid. Every inch of this sleek, perfect car screams of Kane. His touch. His scent. His presence, lingering everywhere I look.
My phone vibrates softly in my palm, jolting me from my spiral. Lena’s reply flashes bright on the screen, warm, immediate—exactly like her.
Door’s open, wine’s poured. Come thru.
A strangled, aching sound catches in my throat, relief mixed with something sharper, something cutting deep inside my chest. Lena is safe. Lena is comfort. Lena will wrap me in softblankets and even softer words, drowning out the violent echoes of what I just left behind.
