Painter’s Obsession

18. Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Eighteen

Byron

I took the day off today, and I got lucky—my hunch was right. I found the asshole at the courthouse.

The downside? It meant waiting around for hours until his court hearing ended.

By three o’clock, he stepped out of his office, moving with an upbeat bounce in his step. I followed at a distance, watching his movements, listening to his soft hum. He looked... happy. Excited, even. But I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off about him.

I’ve met plenty of people in my thirty-one years of living, and I know a monster when I see one.

And this one? Prince Charming? He might be the scariest of them all.

I just need to prove it. Something tangible, something Gabriela can’t ignore—though my words should be enough. Unfortunately, they’re not.

I trail loosely behind him, careful to keep my distance. His car snaked out of town, heading toward the outskirts, closer to the forest and the Great Lake. Isolated.

Perfect for a killer.

The thought makes me chuckle—darkly, bitterly. Maybe there’s something wrong with me, too. Ren Sato, the Laguna Bay Painter? It feels like a reach. But he’s hiding something. Maybe he’s got a wife, kids—something he doesn’t want anyone to know about.

When he pulled into his fancy driveway, I drove past the house and parked deeper in the woods.

Hidden. Waiting.

I light up a cigarette, the burn of the nicotine steadying my nerves, before stepping into the crisp afternoon air. The autumn chill bit at my skin, but I move forward anyway, weaving through the trees toward the back of the property.

People always put cameras in the front. The back? That’s usually where they get lazy.

Through the branches, the house came into view—a modern gothic mansion with clean lines and expensive finishes. But it wasn’t the main house that caught my attention.

It was the shed.

Or maybe it was a guest house—whatever it was, it stood out. The windows were high, except for one that sat low to the ground. The door looked heavy, reinforced, like something from an old school building.

I hesitated, doubt creeping in. Not too late to turn back, I whisper to myself.

But I didn’t.

Taking a deep breath, I step closer. My movements slow, deliberate—scanning for any surprise as I approach the smaller house.

I drop to the ground, crawling towards a low window. My heart pounds so loudly, it echoes in my ears. I know—whatever I’m about to see, it’s going to change everything. I can’t explain why, but I feel it.

I open my eyes. The sight before me shakes me to my core. A naked woman, chained to the floor by a collar around her neck. A flower carved into her back, the skin raw and bleeding. She lies unnervingly still.

I knock on the window, cursing under my breath. My hand goes to my pocket—shit. I left my phone in the truck. The irony hits me like a punch in the gut. I knock louder, desperate for her attention.

Her head jerks up. I lock eyes with her, and instantly, I know. Theresita. My dear friend. She sobs when she sees me, her face crumpling with relief. I gesture—imperfectly, trying to sign. I don’t know what I’m doing, but I try to tell her. I’ll find a way in. I’m not leaving her.

I crouch, walking around the shed, looking for an entry. I try the door. Fuck. The cliches are too obvious. My hand pushes the door open. I hesitate for just a second. It feels too easy. But I think of Theresa, what she’s gone through. I think of my sister. This could be her.

Ren has no idea I’ve followed him. I can grab her, make a clean break. I take a deep breath and step inside, leaving the door ajar behind me.

“Byron...” Theresita sobs, tugging at her collar as I rush to her side.

“I’m here. Where’s the key?” My eyes scan frantically, but there’s nothing—only twisted art pieces. I choke back bile. There’s no doubt now. Ren Sato is the Laguna Bay painter.

I try pulling at the chain, but it’s no use. I should’ve known it was too easy—too perfect, like something out of a fairy tale. I was so focused on saving her that I didn’t hear him come in.

Her eyes go wide with fear as her body tenses. I feel the dark weight of his presence before I see him.

Suddenly, a sharp pain erupts on the side of my head. I collapse, my ears ringing. My hand presses against my skull, but it doesn’t help.

“Breaking and entering,” Ren taunts, his voice smooth as he kneels in front of me. I blink, trying to focus—two Ren’s. Which one is real?

“You fucking sicko,” I grunt, teeth gritted.

“I might be sick,” he sneers, “but you could be my cure.”

Before I can react, I feel the sting of something sharp against my skin. “You will go to sleep very soon.”

“What the fuck did you give me?” I ask but Ren just looks at the time before showing me his hand as he puts up his five fingers, “in exactly five minutes you will be under. You shouldn’t have come sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

I try to move but the pain in my head keeps me in place. “Wh– why? Her?”

He looks at what remains of Theresita, shrugging, he says. “I needed something to hold me over but also something that would send you a message.” He continues to look at the clock as my body begins to twitch, and soon, every muscle begins to spasm. “Anytime now, I gave you a little more than usual.” he says, pinching his fingers. My eyes blur and, for a moment, I lose focus. While I’m finding it hard to keep my eyes open, I don’t miss the moment his smile widens on his face.

“Night night,” he says, his voice dripping with mockery. He stands, his boots clicking on the floor as he walks toward Theresita, then I watch as he lifts a bat. The sickening crack of it against her skull echoes through the room. I watch, frozen in place, as her blood splatters across the canvas, painting the twisted art piece he’s created.

“I don’t break my toys,” Ren growls, his voice dark, as if this horrific act were nothing more than a sick performance. “You made me do this.”

I stare, paralyzed. The bile rises in my throat, but I can’t tear my eyes away. I was too focused on being a hero, too obsessed with him... Now, I’ve made a fatal mistake.

I’ve stepped into his world, and now, I might not survive it.

He finishes, using his bloody hand to push his onyx strands of hair out of his face. Whatever he did to me has taken hold—my body refuses to obey. I try to move, but it’s like I’m trapped inside myself. I’m aware of every muscle, every thought... yet I can’t control a single thing. The drug worked too quickly. Walking towards me,his body covered in blood, I notice chunks of grey matter hanging off his bare chest. As I watch, he plucks it from his chest and casually flicks it to the side.

“It’s different sedatives,” Ren says, his voice cool, almost clinical. “You won’t go to sleep. You’ll feel everything, but it’s fast enough to take down a man your size.”

He stands and walks over to a nearby cabinet. From the cabinet, he pulls out chains, their heavy links clinking together like an ominous warning. Without hesitation, he grabs one of my arms and cuffs it with a metal wristband then attaches it to a hook on the wall. The cold steel bites into my skin as he moves to secure my other arm. I try to resist, but the drugs in my system keep me immobile, like I’m trapped in my own body, unable to fight.

My head lolls to the side, my vision swimming, but then I hear the sound of wheels rolling across the floor—metal against stone. A small TV screen appears before me. He taps it mockingly, a wicked smile on his face.

“I’ll be nice and entertain you,” he says, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “I have a special guest tonight. A lucky lady who’ll be spending the night.”

No. Not Gabriela.

I scream but it’s only in my head, my body desperately trying to fight against the paralytic drug. I want to move, to push past this curse of stillness, to save my sister—but I’m helpless. I watch through blurry eyes as Ren twirls his bat in one hand while using the other to close the door behind him with a soft click.