Page 27 of Painter's Obsession

Storming to the bathroom, I slam the door behind me and lean my hot forehead against the cool surface. My chest heaves, the anger and shame warring inside me, but my body betrays me. My cock is still rock-hard, his touch lingering like a brand I can’t shake.

“Fuck,” I mutter, pounding my forehead lightly against the door. “Fuck… Fuck…”

The words slip out, a desperate attempt to drown out the mix of anger and unwanted arousal coursing through me. I press my palms against the door, trying to steady myself.

But the damage is already done.

Chapter Sixteen

Ren

Making my Thorn mad is as easy as stealing candy from a kid. No effort needed—just my presence sets him off. It’s fun to watch him unravel, his self-hatred gnawing at him like a festering wound. He refuses to be honest with himself, but it’s fine. Once I have him cornered, he’ll have no choice but to face his darkest truth. Whether he likes it or not, he’ll acknowledge it. Just as I’ve acknowledged mine.

I’ve stared into the mirror and met the monster within. I don’t flinch. I don’t deny it—I embrace it.

Gabriela’s voice breaks my thoughts. “I don’t know what’s gotten into him. He didn’t use to be like this, but those murders got him freaked out.”

She’s lying across my lap, her soft brown hair cascading over my hands as I twirl a strand between my fingers. Her warm, trusting eyes lock onto mine. “He’s just being protective. I can understand that.”

She smiles, bright and wide. But not even her light can touch my darkness. I was forged in it, born and raised.

“You’re perfect, Ren,” she breathes, her words catching me off guard. My fingers still mid-twirl. I’m not sure how to respond, so I mimic what I’ve seen in romance movies. “I’m not perfect,” I murmur. “I just understand. I feel protective of you, too.”

Her smile softens, but then her eyes brim with tears. “I know, but it’s not right. The way he’s treating you isn’t fair.”

I shrug, resuming my twirl. “It’s okay. I’m used to men like him. You forget what I do for a living.”

She scoffs, rolling her eyes. “God, no. How could I?”

From the couch, I listen carefully for my Thorn. He’s been quiet since his shower. I wonder what he’s doing—punching holes in the walls again? Or did he fuck his hand while thinking about me? If my count’s right, there are over twenty-two holes in the trailer already. His temper is legendary, but it’s nothing I can’t handle.

“Does he just hang out at home? Or does he have a girlfriend?” I ask casually, though my ears perk for her answer.

Her nose scrunches slightly. “Relationships haven’t been his thing since he split with Sandra.”

Ah, Sandra. The waitress from the diner. I overheard enough during my visits there to piece some things together, but now the puzzle is clearer.

“What happened between them?” I ask, letting my fingers trail lightly down her arm.

Gabriela shrugs, her attention shifting to her peach-manicured nails. “I’m not sure. I know it was bad enough for him to beat her cousin nearly to death. Sandra called the cops, and after that... he just wasn’t the same. He started selling drugs, getting into fights. Then he got locked up. Dad got sick, and he died while my brother was still in jail.”

I hum thoughtfully, stroking her hair. “That’s a lot to deal with. Maybe he should see a therapist.”

Her head snaps up, eyes narrowing. “Do you see where we are? Therapy isn’t for men like him. He’d never go.”

“I didn’t mean to offend you,” I say gently, reaching for her face. My fingers brush her cheek, and I lean in closer. “Truly. I just wanted to offer some insight.”

Her frown softens, and when I kiss her, she melts into me. Her tongue grazes my lips, demanding entrance, and I let her in. The warmth of her fills me, a goodness so foreign it almost hurts. But not even her sweetness can save me. I was born of darkness. I am death.

My fingers grip her jaw, pulling her closer. She straddles my lap, breathless. “I think we should go into my room,” she whispers.

I pull back slightly, watching her lips quiver. “Not tonight. I have to get going.”

She sighs but smiles, planting a soft kiss on my lips. “Okay.”

The sharp slam of a door cuts through the air, freezing her in place. Thorn. I can feel his eyes on us, searing with rage. Gabriela scrambles off my lap, running her hands through her thick locs.

“It’s fine,” I reassure her, gripping her knee. She nods, but her gaze drifts toward the hall.

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