Six Months Read Online Free

parties not present.
    Denver had an easygoing personality with a flair for humor, and sometimes that was a good quality for a man to have. The only thing I didn’t care for was how he’d walked in on a tense situation and had done little to keep me calm. I respected men who knew how to take charge, although I’d never known one outside of a paperback novel. Maybe they didn’t exist.
    “Oh, no,” Lexi gasped, staring at her phone. “April, I need to go home early. Can you handle the rest of the shift alone, or do you need me to be here? I have an emergency.”
    “Not a problem,” I said.
    “What’s wrong?” Denver asked in a serious tone, his brows slanting down.
    Lexi’s brown eyes flashed up. “Maizy’s hurt.”
    His face tensed and he clenched his fists so tightly his knuckles turned white. “What happened?”
    “She fell off the new swing and hit her mouth. They’re taking her to the—”
    The bell jingled and Denver jogged toward an old yellow truck. Lexi grabbed her purse and followed close behind.

Chapter 2
     
    A few minutes after ten o’clock, I decided to flip our sign in the window to Closed and lock up the store. The scent of rain hung heavy in the air, and I dreaded the walk home. I absolutely loved getting up early and walking to work, but after dark was another story.
    Lexi assumed I rode the bus. She had no idea the bus didn’t go that route. My house was close to a five-mile walk and it gave me plenty of exercise, which I enjoyed. I don’t think my legs had seen muscle tone in all my life until the last two weeks after my car had broken down. The first three nights were a killer, but after that, I’d managed to build up my stamina and it gave me a boost of energy in the morning.
    Most of the walk was along a busy street… until the turnoff just beyond the railroad tracks. Then I had to cut across open ground. I got spooked by sudden noises and shadows moving about. Each night, I’d slip on my dark track pants and hoodie so I wouldn’t stand out.
    I looked like a burglar.
    After three miles of singing “Piano Man” by my all-time favorite singer, tiny raindrops began to dampen my cheeks.
    “Shoot,” I said, kicking a small rock as I hurried up the wet sidewalk.
    At least we were having a mild October and the cold weather hadn’t kicked in yet. While my goal was to get an apartment, I’d been giving serious thought to buying a car first. It all depended on whether or not I could find an apartment near a bus route. I didn’t think I’d be able to continue walking once the temperature decided to drop.
    The steady rain beat a staccato rhythm on the parked cars, and an SUV swerved so close to the curb that a wave of water splashed over me.
    “Thank you!” I yelled with a laugh, waving my drenched arm as the car sped away.
    Probably a decent guy trying to rush to the store to grab dinner for his wife and kids. I held my elbows tightly as a memory jostled loose in my head—one I’d just as soon not think about.
    Every so often, I glanced over my shoulder at a strange clicking sound coming from behind me. Each time I stopped and turned around, I was confronted by a long stretch of shadows and concrete, but no boogeyman.
    “ I’m hearing things, I’m hearing things ,” I sang to myself—the sort of thing you do when you’re alone and on the brink of running home like a frightened child. The streets were brightly lit and passing cars provided me with a sense of security, at least until I reached the wooded area.
    “This is not my life,” I said to my wet shoes. “I should be like all the other women my age—going to happy hour with friends and flirting with attractive men. Instead, I like to read and play Scrabble. Then again, I’ve never been successful with flirting. Just ask the last guy. He ended up wearing condiments on his shirt after standing beside me in the burger joint. I tried talking to him and wound up slinging a half-opened packet of ketchup on his white