Just Keep Sweet (The Compound Series) Read Online Free PDF Page A

“Nah, I got it.”
    He shook his head and laughed uncomfortably. “I gotta pay for that damn saucer anyway.”
    I slid from the booth and stood opposite him, extending my hand. “I got it, kid. Thanks for coming.”
    He nodded, patting me on the shoulder. “Thanks, man. If you get word on Aspen, text me, okay?”
    “Will do.”
    The bell of the door rang as he left the building. Our waitress returned with a fresh pot of coffee. “Where’d your friend go? I had a batch made special.”
    “Sorry, darlin,’ but he had to run. I’ll take a fresh cup, though, and an order of blueberry-stuffed french toast, please.”
    “You got it.”
    My thoughts returned to Aspen, and I checked my phone five times before my breakfast arrived. Word from her couldn’t come soon enough.
     

Chapter 4
     

     
    Aspen was restless, anxiety-ridden and worst of all, without the opportunity to call Jonathan, completely exposed and vulnerable. She hadn’t spoken to him in weeks since Pennie left her phone at the house. Since then, there’d been no opportunities, and although she may have been paranoid, Aspen was convinced everyone in her household was watching her—waiting for her to crack, to expose her intentions toward the prophet. Her sister wives were biding their time—waiting for an opportunity.
    Fools. That will never happen.
    True, in the three Sundays on the compound since discovering his crimes, she wanted nothing more than to grab his microphone and proclaim his savagery to the community at large. To scream of his abuse, to whoop and holler and demand the church elders follow her upstairs to his chamber of horrors. But she was too smart for such impulsive behavior, and that would be nothing but a fool’s errand. The prophet would humiliate her in front of the congregation and leave her a pariah within the entire community. Those church elders would let her beg at their feet, scoffing at the stupidity of a silly woman.
    And she couldn’t let that happen.
    Never.
    No. She would make Clarence Black pay. She just didn’t know quite how. For that piece of the puzzle relied upon Detective Cooke, and under Flora’s and Paul’s watchful eyes, she’d barely had the opportunity to take her children to the park, let alone sneak away for a visit to the police station.
    Paul. Paul. Paul.
    If ever a human being caused her emotional turmoil, it was the man who formerly called himself her husband. Since he severed his vows and declared that she was no longer his wife, she could no longer look him in the eye, which was new to her. Both mortified and angry when in his presence, Aspen found herself in constant conflict. Despite his acrimony, she knew he still loved her . . . somewhere tucked beneath his fury. She’d noticed it in the shy glances he stole during dinner and in the way his footsteps slowed when he passed by her room at night. Never did he enter, but just the sight of her door gave him pause. She knew it in her gut. However, that didn’t matter. Not only had he abandoned her when she needed him the most, but he trusted the evil that was Clarence Black more than he trusted her. How could she ever forgive that? And if she could forgive, could she ever truly forget?
    No, Aspen, you cannot.
    Isolated and confined, Aspen chose to learn the art of knitting from Pennie. Together, they sat on the front steps of their home, working on sweaters for the coming winter, per Flora’s request. Aspen had hoped to volunteer to visit the fabric store to choose the yarn since she’d estimated the store was five blocks from the police station. Perhaps she could sneak away to see Jonathan. With a snide rolling of her deep-set eyes, Flora shook her head and insisted she and she alone would select the yarn.
    Knit one, purl two.
    Aside from knowing where her children were at every waking hour of each day, knitting was the only thing that brought her solace, and so she hung on every word Pennie had to offer when it came to their lessons. The tiny