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Lifting the flaps, my stomach drops.

Is… is this…? From Tristan?

CHAPTER ELEVEN

TRISTAN

Man,I love Taco Bell. Seriously, nothing beats a chalupa supreme and a baja blast after an intense workout. I fucking hate cardio days until they’re over and I get to reward myself with salty, cheesy goodness.

Lifting the fluffy taco from the wrapper, my mouth unhinges wide like a cartoon character until my phone buzzes on the coffee table.

Seriously? Talk about shitty timing.

Setting down the chalupa, I pick up my burner as Daphne’s name brightens my screen.

“Hello?”

“Was it you?” The panic laced in Daphne’s voice sends a bolt of icy adrenaline through my gut.

“What happened?”

“You, you fucking sick fuck!” Her voice rises to a shout that pierces through the speaker. “Is this a fucking joke?”

Worry clutches my stomach harder. Something’s wrong. “Whoa, okay. That’s a lot of swear words, Daph.” She doesn’t laugh at my joke, which only makes me feel even shittier.

“If this is your idea of a sick joke, it’s not funny.”

“Joke? What the hell are you talking about?”

“Oh, don’t play dumb.”

“Um, I’m not. What’s going on? Am I being punked?”

Daphne lets out a frustrated growl that’s both cute and terrifying. “The box.”

“What’s in the box?” I ask like Brad Pitt’s character inSeven.

“Tristan,” she snaps.

“Seriously, Daph. I didn’t leave a box.”

There’s a long pause. Something rumbles around on the other end of the line like she’s tossing the box around. “It wasn’t you?”

The worry still in her voice sucker-punches me in my gut.

“No. It wasn’t me. What’s in the box, Daph?”

She draws a long, stuttering breath into the phone. Time damn near stands still as I wait.

“The bill.” She swallows the words on the other end of the line like a bitter pill. “With a knife through it. They wrote, ‘Kill it or we’ll kill you.’ It wasn’t you?” she asks again with a note of desperation in her voice. Like she wants me to admit to it and say it was a bad joke.

But fuck, that’s not a joke. And it wasn’t me.

Anger builds quickly until my heartbeat hammers in my ears. Is someone after Daphne?

My hands shake as adrenaline floods my system and I spring up from my seat, ready to go to her.

I need to know she’s alright. Even if she’s on the phone with me, even if I can hear her clearly, I need toseeshe’s okay.