Page 38 of The Perfect Illusion (Jessie Hunt #39)

Finn Anderton walked through the dark parking lot, trying not to let his nerves get the better of him.

There were still a surprising number of cars there, which likely belonged to some other students in the same class.

It was held at the very far end of campus, a twenty-five-minute walk away from the dorms and campus apartments.

As a result, many students drove rather than risk walking across campus late at night.

He wondered if that was Dallas’s reason, though he doubted it. The guy was tall and muscular, and attempting to mug him seemed like a foolish choice. But Finn wasn’t here to mug Dallas. He was here to confront him. And now, only a few paces behind the guy, he decided the time had come.

“Hey,” he called out.

Dallas jumped slightly, nearly bumping into the pickup truck next to him, and turned around with a surprised expression on his face.

“Can I help you?” he asked in a tone that suggested he had no intention of helping.

“Actually, I was hoping to help you out,” Finn said. “I wanted to give you a piece of advice.”

“Do I know you?” Dallas replied unconvincingly.

Finn knew it was a charade. Dallas Henry was well aware of who he was. He let that lie go so as not to get distracted.

“You need to leave Hannah Dorsey alone,” he said emphatically.

“Are you serious right now?” Dallas demanded, looking like he might be on the verge of laughing.

Finn was very serious. He’d come to accept that there might not be any romantic future for him and Hannah anymore.

That was his fault—a result of his moral weakness in an important moment.

But even so, he still wanted Hannah to be safe and happy.

And what he’d recently learned about Dallas Henry told him that she wouldn’t be safe with him.

“I know who you really are,” he said, deciding that the best way to keep Hannah safe was to put a little healthy fear in this guy.

“What does that mean?” Dallas demanded haughtily, though his eyes looked slightly panicked.

“I researched you,” Finn said, “just like Hannah does when she’s helping other students out of a jam. I even went to Bakersfield this last weekend to talk to some people. The hometown folks always know each other best, right? And you know what your old high school peeps told me?”

“This should be good,” Dallas said, pretending not to care, though his teeth were gritted.

“They said that early in school, something happened to you,” Finn told him. “You changed from a normal kid into some kind of incel type. I had multiple people tell me that they were scared that you’d end up as a school shooter. And then something changed.”

He waited to see if Dallas would respond, but the guy just stood there, staring at him, his whole body one big ball of tension. Finn continued.

“They said that you seemed to drop the whole ‘woman-hating’ thing, that you appeared to have turned over a new leaf. But the weird thing was that not everyone bought it. I had at least three people that I tracked down say they thought you were just putting on a good show so that you could get into college, but that you hadn’t really changed.

They said the darkness was still in you. ”

“What kind of freak are you?” Dallas demanded.

“We’ve never spoken and then you come up to me in a random parking lot and start making accusations about my character?

What kind of sicko decides that a fun time would be making the three hour trip from Irvine to Bakersfield— on a weekend, no less—to dig up lies on a total stranger?

You think I’m some threat to Hannah, but the truth is that you’re the stalker, man. ”

“Just stay away from her,” Finn said undeterred, “You act like you’ve changed but I know guys like you. There are a few in my own fraternity. I know what your type does when you think no one’s looking. I know the truth. We both do.”

Dallas paused, seemingly taking the words to heart. Then he took a step forward and muttered under his breath.

“The truth is that you should be less worried about the threat to Hannah and more worried about the threat to yourself.”

Finn saw a flash of motion at waist level and glanced down. He processed what was happening only after it had begun.

Dallas had a switchblade knife in his hand.

It glinted in the moonlight just before Finn felt it sink into his gut.

He started to gasp, but Dallas’s hand was suddenly covering his mouth.

He felt the knife leave his abdomen, then re-enter it.

More jabs happened in quick succession. He lost count as he dropped to his knees, unable to support his weight because of the excruciating pain.

He felt another puncture land in his chest and immediately knew it had pierced his lung. Lightheaded, he toppled from his knees to the parking lot asphalt, lying flat on his back, looking up at the moon amid the starlit sky.

Then Dallas stepped into his eyeline, blocking his view.

***

Dallas stood over Finn Anderton, looking down at him without pity. The kid was like a gutted fish, gasping for his last breaths.

He was about to bend down to finish the job with one sharp slice across the front of the punk’s throat when he heard voices nearby.

Glancing around, he saw two girls from his class walking together in his direction.

The pickup truck next to him was blocking him from their view, but not for long.

If he took the time to deliver the death blow to Anderton, he risked them seeing him.

He glanced down at the pathetic creature. Anderton was bleeding out from at least a half dozen wounds. He was rasping unintelligibly. His eyes were fluttering. He didn’t have long left. Even if he was discovered, it would be too late to help him.

Dallas had to think of the bigger picture.

Being discovered here—now—would ruin everything he worked so meticulously to make happen.

So, despite his intense desire to cut into Anderton’s flesh one final time, he pulled his hoodie over his head, turned, and darted off, keeping low until he reached his car.

He unlocked it and slid into the driver’s seat, where he peeked in his rearview mirror.

He could see three other people, including his professor, walking toward the parking lot now too.

The place was getting surprisingly crowded, and he needed to leave fast. He wrapped the bloody knife in a collection of tissues, dropped it on the passenger seat, then started his car and backed out of his spot.

As he eased carefully out of the lot, an unexpected thought popped into his head. He’d never killed anyone before. It had all happened so quickly that he’d been denied the time to appreciate the moment.

He'd allow himself that luxury later. And then he'd review what he'd done right and wrong tonight and how things could be improved so that the next time would be easier.

Next time. The words sent a thrill up his leg. He was almost aroused.

But he would have to wait until the time was right. Only then would he do the deed. And when he finally did, all his work would be worth it. He deserved this. And so did Hannah.

She had it coming.