Nomads' Fall: Burning Bastards MC Read Free Page B

not to mention the lack of a paper trail would make it harder to follow her. The car ran out of gas and fumes five minutes later, and she had no idea where she was.
    There was a wooden sign advertising “Big Lake Campgrounds” fifty feet in front of her, but that was about it. Not even a road mile marker could be seen. If I didn’t have to use back roads and goat paths I’d at least know where I was . She got out of the old Olds and looked around, but that didn’t help, there was nothing to see. After standing with her car for half an hour with no vehicles passing by, she grabbed her purse and locked the doors before heading in the direction of the campground’s sign.
    It was close to dark by the time she walked up to the manager’s office. The closed sign on the door was just one more disappointment in a long line today. Yesterday she’d barely escaped from being snagged by sneaking out the back door of the truck stop where she’d been working. She’d slipped into her studio apartment, aka attic room in a slumlord’s 1900s Victorian, via the fire escape. The dark blue SUV parked half a block away was about as inconspicuous as a black eye. How she’d been found was anyone’s guess. She grabbed her duffel, stuffed her pitiful belongings into the cheap bag, and pulled up the carpet in the corner of the room to get her small cache of money.
    The car was in a fake name, with fake plates and for a derelict, it had at least gotten her a few hundred miles away, so she couldn’t complain too much, but it drank gas at what seemed to be ten miles per gallon.
    She had changed her hair color two months ago, and now she’d have to do it again. At this rate, she wouldn’t need to worry about her hair, it would be so brittle, it would all break off and she’d be bald. She thought her appearance had changed drastically enough to keep her under the radar, but there was no guarantee about that either. She’d been a kick ass college student with dreams of owning her own business and seeing her name on the side of her own building. While she attended her normal college courses, she’d gotten licensed as a Massage Therapist to supplement her income. It was originally her idea to get out of the Lady, and find work in a Chiropractor, or Doctor’s office. She couldn’t use her skills for that without showing her license, and that had been left at her mother’s home. Even then, if she used her real name so an employer could check her out, that would leave her trail wide open for her pursuers. That was over two years ago. Now she was a woman running scared from some very bad people with no place isolated enough to keep her safe.
    Sitting on the wooden steps and crying her eyes out wasn’t going to improve her situation any, but that’s exactly what she did. No wimpy crying jag for her, it was an all-out blubbering release of emotions and tension. She hadn’t cried since the night she discovered her boss was a killer. She would have slipped away scot-free if it wasn’t for the damn security cameras. She’d been in the office waiting to tell her boss at the Lovely Ladies strip club, that she needed to change her working hours due to her class schedule for the year.
    A man begging for his life wasn’t something she expected to hear coming from the backroom. Nor was the sound of a single gunshot, and a few minutes later, the sounds of something heavy being pulled across the floor. She’d snuck out of the office and ran to get her purse, explained to the girls in the dressing room that she suddenly didn’t feel well and needed to go home and lie down for a while. The next day Porter came to her door.
    She lied to him, denying she spent any time in the office last night at all. “I did go into the office looking for you last night, Porter, but you weren’t there, so I left. I wanted to tell you I’m moving to Denver to start a business, and give you my two weeks’ notice. I feel it’s only fair since I’ve been with the