Page 78 of Painter's Obsession

Reaching for the small set of keys, I turn back toward him. His gaze follows me, his body rigid, tension radiating off him in waves. There’s a flicker of something in his eyes—fear, anger, or perhaps both.

“You run, I’ll shoot. I won’t miss.”

The words fall from my lips like a command, low and unwavering.

I kneel before him, the leash clinking softly as I unlock it from the ground. My grip on the chain remains firm, he won’t catch me off guard a second time. This time I’ll cut him down. Standing again, I hold it tightly in my hand, the connectionbetween us palpable, like a tether binding him to me. A pet with his master.

“Walk.”

Using the gun, I gesture toward the door. He hesitates for the briefest moment before obeying, his movements stiff and mechanical.

The rain greets us immediately, cold and unrelenting, soaking us to the bone. The storm rages around us, the wind howling like a beast, the downpour drowning out all but the sound of our footsteps. The air is thick with the scent of wet earth and blood, sharp and metallic.

We walk in silence, the leash jingling softly with each step. The weight of the gun in my other hand feels reassuring, a constant reminder of the control I hold.

Then, a voice pierces the storm, sharp and fragile, slicing through the darkness.

“Ren!”

Byron freezes at the sound, his body going rigid, the chain pulling taut between us.

The silhouette becomes clearer with each step closer, faintly illuminated by flashes of lightning. A small figure, fragile against the night.Gabriela. How the fuck did you get here.

Her voice wavers, uncertain. “By—“

The words falter, dying in her throat as her eyes fall on us. On the chain in my hand, on the gun, on her brother’s slumped posture and our naked bodies. I see the realization hit her like a physical blow—the horror that spreads across her face, her lips trembling as she tries to process what she’s seeing.

Byron moves before I do, shoving me hard enough to make me stumble. My grip on the chain slips, and I raise the gun, firing instinctively.

The shot cracks through the storm, deafening. The bullet slams into a nearby tree, splintering the bark.

“RUN, GABRIELA!” Byron’s voice is raw, desperate, cutting through the chaos.

For a moment, she doesn’t move, frozen in place, her eyes locked on me. Then, as if something snaps within her, she bolts into the woods, her figure vanishing into the shadows.

Byron lunges for me, and we hit the ground hard. Mud splatters around us as we grapple, his hands clawing for the gun. He’s desperate, his strength fueled by raw panic. His fingers jerk at my cock, yanking hard on the skin, and I snarl, the sharp pain igniting a fury within me.

I knee him in the face, the wet crack of bone against bone cutting through the storm. He crumples briefly, just enough for me to shove him off and scramble to my feet. But his hand pulls on the longer strands of my hair pulling me back to him. Throwing me into the wet grass. “Let her go, it’s me you want,” he snarls.

Sitting back on the wet ground, I laugh, the sound cutting through the storm like a blade. The rain pelts my face, cold and unrelenting, mixing with the blood smeared across my skin before looking up at him. Pointing towards the shed, “that mistake in there was supposed to be Gabriela,” I say, my voice steady despite the chaos. “I was going to snuff your will, Byron. So you’d have no choice but to live for me. A puppet.”

Despite the darkness, I see his face contorting into anguish, his features twisting with fury. His fist comes down hard, connecting with my face in a sharp burst of pain. My head snaps to the side, but he doesn’t stop. Straddling me, his naked body trembling with rage, he lands blow after blow. His knuckles split against my skin, his strikes raw and desperate. “I will kill you.”

“I welcome death.” I hiss through clenched teeth, my hand snaking downward, wrapping around the piercing in his perineum. “But first, I’ll kill her.” I say as my fingers tug sharply, the metal digging into sensitive flesh. His body jerks violently, astrangled cry tearing from his throat as he collapses to the side, clutching himself.

I shove him off and scramble to my feet, the cold rain cascading over my bare skin, mixing with the blood dripping from my split lip. Behind me, I hear his ragged breathing, then the squelching sound of his feet slipping in the mud as he tries to stand.

“Ren, I’ll kill you!” he roars, his voice hoarse, cutting through the storm.

I glance back, my lips curling into a feral grin. “Good. Someone needs to put me down.”

I pump my legs harder, the mud sucking at my bare feet, as rain pelts my body like icy needles. The forest around me feels alive, oppressive. Shadows dance with each flash of lightning, and the air reeks of wet earth and blood.

Ahead, I see her. Gabriela. She’s weaving between the trees, her movements frantic, her body illuminated briefly by the storm’s flickering light.

The gun in my hand feels slick and heavy, rainwater streaming off its surface. Raising it, I steady my aim, my breath even despite the chaos.

“Sorry it had to end this way,” I murmur, my voice soft, almost gentle, before pulling the trigger.

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