Page 1 of The Dare

Chapter 1

Molly

I pulled a compact mirror out of my purse to check my makeup during the long drive. I was applying a fresh coat of lipstick when the car hit a pothole. Scowling at the streak of red running from my lips to my cheek, I thought about reprimanding the driver, but I held back. It really wasn’t his fault that the back roads in this town weren’t well-maintained.

Wiping the lipstick from my cheek with a tissue, I looked out of the car window to see that we were heading down a familiar road with trees on each side. Colorado was always beautiful, but it was especially nice this time of year. It was spring, so flowers were blooming and the trees were full of new leaves. Animals were coming out from wherever they’d holed up for the winter, and the air had a freshness about it I’d been missing while attending college on the other side of the country.

“We’ll be arriving in fifteen minutes,” the driver said, looking at me through the rearview mirror.

I nodded in acknowledgment and finished applying my makeup. I needed to freshen up after the long flight from New York. My parents sent this private car to pick me up at the airport, both of them busy preparing for my mom’s big birthday dinner tonight. That was the reason that I was home for the first time in months. My mother was turning fifty-four this weekend, and it was tradition to celebrate with a small family gathering.

I didn’t mind the drive. It gave me a chance to relax until I arrived at my family’s cabin by the lake. I was excited. Not only was I going to see my parents, but my two best friends would be there. I hadn’t seen Jenna and Olivia since we were all home for Christmas, but that was months ago, and we were all so busy spending time with family that we didn’t get much of a chance to hang out.

I had just tucked my makeup back into my purse when my cell phone let out a shrill beeping noise. It was a text sent out by the university, and I felt a chill run down my spine as I read the notification about increased security measures that would go into effect starting Monday. There would be more security officers on campus, and they were implementing a buddy system after six every evening. No one could be out on campus without at least one friend at their side. Pretty inconvenient, but I guess it was worth for safety.

All of this was in response to the recent deaths on campus. Everyone was on edge because of the two bodies found stabbed to death, but I was especially freaked out because they happened to be the two guys who I’d slept with since school started.

I couldn’t help worrying that I was the connection between these men, that their deaths had something to do with me, but some of my friends at school pointed out I was unlikely to be the only woman on campus who both of them had slept with. The guys were a part of a fraternity and were both known to enjoy casual sex. In fact, my roommate referred to the recently deceased as man whores. That made sense, because my interactions with each guy were just one-night stands, the result of my attending some parties at the frat house. They were both good at the game of seduction, and I had to admit that I was easily charmed into sleeping with them.

Neither one of the guys was great in bed, and I was drunk each time, so they weren’t exactly memorable, but I still recognized each guy when their pictures appeared in the paper. Despite all the crimes in New York City, the deaths of these two guys had been a huge deal. They were all over the news and tension was high on campus. Young and fit with bright futures ahead of them, their deaths were being reported about every other day, despite there being no leads. It was to the point that it was almost ridiculous how the media was cashing in on the tragedy. It was just another trending story.

I tried not to give in to panic like so many others on campus were. It would do no good. Besides, both victims so far had been men. So, there was no reason to think that I was in danger.

Yet, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong and that it was related to me in some way. Maybe that was crazy. I couldn’t imagine why in the world someone would kill two men just because I’d slept with them.

But there was more to it than that. I also felt like I was being watched ever since I left home for college a year and a half ago. No matter where I went, prickling awareness rippled through my body, the fine hairs on my arms and the back of my neck standing on end. Even alone in my dorm room, I sometimes got the feeling that there were eyes on me.

It made no sense, and I chalked it up to being paranoid because it was my first time living on my own, so far away from my family. It was scary to move to the other side of the country to attend college, living in a dorm with a roommate who I didn’t know and no friends at my new school.

Over time, I grew close with my roommate and made other friends. I joined a photography club at the school and attended some frat parties. I grew more comfortable in my new situation, but through it all, I consistently got that feeling of being watched.

Tucking my phone back into my purse, I let out a sigh and forced the paranoia to the back of my mind. The deaths were a tragedy, but there was no reason for me to fear anything. They were both handsome guys, athletes with blond hair and playboy reputations. If the killer had a type, it definitely wasn’t a curvy brunette woman.

So, why was I convinced that I was in the killer’s crosshairs?

In my mind, I heard Jenna’s voice. When I told her about what was going on at my school and my strange feelings about it all, she told me not to put a target on my back. She delivered her advice with her usual cheeky attitude, and I couldn’t help smiling at the memory. Of my two besties, Jenna was the outgoing risk-taker, and I knew she’d make me feel better about the whole thing. The girl didn’t have it in her to worry about much of anything.

Ten minutes later, the family cabin finally came into view, and I grinned, all thoughts of killers and increased security fleeing my mind as the driver parked in front of the large wooden glass stained door. This trip was exactly what I needed to relax and forget about the psycho killer. I was looking forward to having some real fun this weekend.

Chapter 2

Atticus

“Goddamn it,” I mumbled under my breath as I scrubbed at the blood stain on my favorite shirt.

This was what I got for getting involved in other people’s drama. I was usually the type to keep to myself, but I couldn’t ignore the screams for help I heard last night. I arrived in Colorado yesterday evening, and I had a few errands to run. I’d just left the hardware store, right before they closed, so it was late, about ten o’clock. The sun had gone down hours ago, and there wasn’t anyone else around.

The sound of a woman shrieking came from the alley behind a bar two doors down from the hardware store. With a plastic bag containing my purchases in hand, I headed in that direction before I could stop and think about whether it was a good idea. There was a crash as a metal garbage can was kicked over, and I rounded the corner of the building to see a man pinning a struggling woman to the brick wall. One of his hands was circling her neck while the other ripped open the front of her button-up shirt. She clawed at his arms, unable to continue screaming as he cut off her air supply.

I acted without thinking. Approaching from behind as he pawed at the woman’s breasts, I pulled out the knife I’d taken to carrying around with me lately. It was a five-inch blade that I wore inside the waistband of my jeans. It made no sound as I pulled it from the sheath, and the asshole never saw me coming.

He was chuckling and working to unbutton his pants with one hand as he continued to hold the woman in place. Her terrified eyes shifted over his shoulder to see me approaching. She couldn’t make a sound with his firm grip on her throat, but I could see the pleading in the expression on her tear-stained face.

She didn’t have to beg for my help. I was already lifting my knife. Holding it high over my head, I brought the weapon down in an arch, throwing all of my strength into the motion as I sank the blade into his back on the left side, aiming for his heart.

I had some practice in this sort of thing, so my aim was true. The bastard let out a strangled cry of pain as his knees buckled. I yanked the knife out and stepped back into the shadows, watching what happened next. I always enjoyed watching my handiwork, and this fucker definitely deserved it. He released the girl as he fell, his hands stopping him from face-planting on the ground for a moment, but it didn’t take long for him to lose all strength and slump to his side in the dirt.

His victim was already running away as the life drained from the man. Each pump of his heart sent more blood out onto the dirt, and it only took minutes for him to die. I thought about just leaving him there, but it was too risky. I couldn’t risk a connection being made between this man and the two who had been found stabbed at the university.

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