Page 102 of Perfume Girl

“Nope, which was kind of strange don’t you think? Turns out his mom knew the judge. Some weird family connection. I mean, he should have ended up in Juvi.”

“I want proof.”

“He was a minor so the records are protected.”

“That’s too convenient.”

“You can’t share this with anyone…especially not Astor. The last thing I need is for him to come after me. Things have changed between us, Raquel, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you.”

“You’re lying.”

“About caring for you?”

“About Astor.”

“Yeah, thought you wouldn’t believe me at first. Just don’t shoot the messenger, okay?”

Astor had never once shown any leanings toward violence. He was domineering, yes, but there was a kindness to him that I’d unraveled layer by layer.

Taylor’s words screamed back into my thoughts,“Something terrible happened in that house.”

“Damien, why would a boy do what you described?”

“I don’t know. But it was obviously intentional.”

“How do you mean?”

“The police were called to the house in response to a disruptionbeforethe gun went off. That’s all I know. Sounds like his parents were scared of him.”

I didn’t want to believe any of this. Damien didn’t have any real evidence.

He leaned forward. “How well do you know this guy?”

I shook my head. “I bet you couldn’t wait to deliver this news?”

“I should have taken Embry’s advice. She said you wouldn’t listen.”

“No, really, thank you for telling me,” I said dryly, my gaze returning to the building that hid so many secrets within.

“I think you should leave this place,” he said. “Open a new store. Nothing is stopping you.”

“Other than the money.”

“Take out a loan.”

“I have to go.” I opened the car door and swung my feet out. When I stood my legs shook from the strain of his words.

“Raquel,” Damien called after me. He had gotten out of the Beamer.

I spun on my heels and glared at him.

“Do you want me to help you with your stuff?” He took a step closer. “Help you clear out your desk?”

“I’m perfectly capable,” I told him, and headed toward the entrance.

When I made it to the door, I turned to see Damien driving off and then froze with my hand clutching the handle. In my peripheral vision I saw a man getting out of a Range Rover.

Refusing to look Astor’s way, I pretended not to see him and pulled the door open, hurrying inside and letting the door close behind me. With my heart jack-hammering, I counted the seconds it would take for Astor to reach the building.