Page 79 of Painter's Obsession

The shot cracks through the night, and she stumbles. Her scream pierces the storm, sharp and primal, before her body tumbles down a small hill, rolling into the underbrush.

I approach slowly, savoring the moment. The mud clings to my legs, thick and heavy, my steps deliberate. The rain drowns out most sounds, but I can still hear my breathing—calm, measured.

A flash of movement catches my eye. Byron. He’s trying to circle around me, his body glistening with rain, muscles taut with tension.

“Stop, or I’ll end her now,” I say, aiming the gun at her crumpled form below.

He freezes, the rock in his hand slipping free and landing with a dull thud in the mud. His chest heaves, his wide eyes darting to Gabriela. Her leg bleeds heavily through her torn jeans, her body slack and motionless, but I can see the faint rise and fall of her chest.

Byron drops to his knees, his voice cracking as he pleads. “Please… spare her. Take me. Do whatever you want to me, but let her live. I’d rather her hate me and be alive.”

I tilt my head, studying him. His desperation rolls off him in waves, but it’s hollow to me. Has he not been paying attention? Emotions mean nothing. They’re fragile, fleeting things, unable to touch the void inside me.

I glance back at Gabriela’s crumpled form, raising the gun slightly. And that’s when he moves.

He lunges for me, his wet, mud-slick body colliding with mine. The gun slips from my grasp as we tumble together, rolling down the hill. The rain makes everything slick, our naked bodies sliding against each other in the mud.

We hit the bottom hard, both gasping for breath. Byron recovers first, driving his knee into my ribs with a vicious force that makes me choke on the pain.

I fall back, laughing through the agony, the sound cutting through the storm.

“We can have it all,” I say, my voice rasping but steady. “Cut the cord.”

My hand finds the gun again, the familiar cold metal pressing into my palm. I aim, my finger tightening on the trigger. This time, the bullet hits its mark.

He cries out, collapsing as the shot tears into his leg. Blood pours freely, mixing with the mud and rain. He almost fallscompletely, but he catches himself, sheer will keeping him upright.

We grapple again, our bodies slipping and sliding in the muck, his strength fueled by desperation, mine by sheer determination. From my position beneath him, I see Gabriela stirring faintly, her hand clutching her head as she fights to regain consciousness.

My fingers dig into Byron’s bullet wound, pressing down hard. His scream is raw, guttural, his head snapping back in pain.

“I am the only one who accepts you, Byron,” I hiss through gritted teeth, my voice low and venomous. “The only one who sees you.”

His elbow crashes into my head, the force blinding. “Fuck you,” he snarls, his voice dripping with hatred.

I throw my head back into the mud, dazed but clutching the gun tightly. We continue to struggle, his body pinning mine down, rain and blood mingling as the chaos spirals.

Then, the gun goes off.

The pain is immediate, deep and searing in my chest. My breath hitches, a strangled gasp escaping my lips. For a moment, the world slows, the storm muffling as warmth spreads across my torso.

We both freeze, our eyes locking. I glance down at the crimson blooming across my chest, the vivid color stark against my pale skin.

I collapse backward into the mud, my body limp. “You did it,” I whisper, my voice faint, barely audible over the rain.

Byron doesn’t look at me. He scrambles to Gabriela, his hands trembling as he cradles her fragile body. My gaze stays fixed on them, the siblings huddled together, their love raw and unguarded—something I can’t understand but recognize all the same.

The distant sound of sirens grows louder, cutting through the storm. Byron rises, helping Gabriela to her feet, their forms glistening in the rain as they stumble away, their silhouettes fading into the trees.

Not once does he look back.

I cough, blood bubbling at my lips as my vision dims. My hand reaches out weakly, grasping at nothing.

“You don’t look too hot,” a familiar voice murmurs, breaking through the haze.

I squint, trying to focus, but the figure remains shrouded in shadow. My lips curl into a faint smirk as the void finally swallows me whole.

Chapter Forty- One

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