Serial Novel: The Biker's Wench, Chapter 61
This serial novel is posted in draft form every Tuesday and Friday.
Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6 | Ch. 7| Ch. 8 | Ch. 9 | Ch. 10 |Ch. 11 | Ch. 12 | Ch. 13| Ch. 14 |Ch. 15 |Ch. 16 |Ch. 17 |Ch. 18 |Ch. 19 |Ch. 20 | Ch. 21 | Ch. 22 | Ch. 23 | Ch. 24 | Ch. 25| Ch. 26| Ch. 27 | Ch. 28 |Ch. 29 | Ch. 30 | Ch. 31 |Ch. 32 | Ch. 33| Ch. 34 | Ch. 35 | Ch. 36 | Ch. 37 | Ch. 38 | Ch. 39 | Ch. 40 |Ch. 41 |Ch. 42 |Ch. 43 |Ch. 44 |Ch. 45 |Ch. 46 |Ch. 47 |Ch. 48 |Ch. 49 |Ch. 50 |Ch. 51 |Ch. 52|
Ch. 53 |Ch. 54| Ch. 55|Ch. 56|Ch. 57|Ch. 58|Ch. 59|Ch. 60
The Biker's Wench
Chapter 61
Monica stretched and rubbed the back of her neck with one hand as she stepped off the bus in Salt Lake City. When she'd bought the ticket, she'd been dismayed that there was no direct route to Las Vegas, and that the one-way trip would take up to twenty hours. She needed to transfer to a different bus, but as she made her way across the dimly lit terminal, a sign on a large bulletin board caught her eye. It was an FBI "Wanted" poster, with the address of a local field office listed on the bottom. Thinking for a moment, she tried to remember if Burns had any connections in Utah, but couldn't think of any that she knew of. The chances were probably just as likely as Vegas, and if she could just hole up somewhere for the rest of the night, she could be at the office first thing in the morning.
The decision made, she punched the address into her cell phone, and brought up directions for how to get there. Of course it would be all the way across the city. She glanced at the time - ten o'clock. All the rental places would be closed by now, which left her either on foot, or in a cab. Easy choice.
Shifting her bag to the other hand, she walked out to the curb, giving several transient-looking people a wide berth. She walked half-a-block down and looked both ways, surprised not to see cabs lined up along the curb. Apparently bus travelers weren't big enough business to warrant a presence. Noting more traffic at one of the cross streets ahead, she hiked up to the corner and looked around, watching at least two cabs go by. When the next one came by, she held up a hand, grateful when it pulled to the curb.
"257 East 200 South please," she said as she got in the back seat. The driver, a man who appeared to be in his late forties frowned over the seat at her.
"Nothing's open over there this time of night. You sure you got the right address?"
She nodded. "I'm sure. Thank you."
He shook his head and faced forward again, muttering something under his breath as he pulled away from the curb. She looked out the window as they drove, wondering where Harley was now. Hopefully he'd gotten to the doctor in time, and was somewhere safe to heal. Tears pricked her eyes as she pushed the other options out of her mind. He had to be okay. She couldn't stand to think that something might have happened to him.
Pulling out her phone, she dialed Harley's number. It was risky, she knew, but she just wanted to know he was okay. To hear his voice again. Holding the phone to her ear, she waited as it rang back at her, twice before his voicemail picked up. She left a quick but vague message and hung up. Just in case.
Stifling a yawn, she laid her head back on the seat. Maybe she'd just take a quick nap to refresh herself. Her eyes drifted shut and just as she felt herself dosing off, the car lurched forward, tossing her forward into the plexiglass window. Her head bounced off the thick plastic and she fell back on the seat, dazed as the car came to an abrupt stop. Enjoy this installment? Try Desert Heat, available now at:
Amazon US | Amazon UK | Barnes & Noble | Smashwords | Diesel
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Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6 | Ch. 7| Ch. 8 | Ch. 9 | Ch. 10 |Ch. 11 | Ch. 12 | Ch. 13| Ch. 14 |Ch. 15 |Ch. 16 |Ch. 17 |Ch. 18 |Ch. 19 |Ch. 20 | Ch. 21 | Ch. 22 | Ch. 23 | Ch. 24 | Ch. 25| Ch. 26| Ch. 27 | Ch. 28 |Ch. 29 | Ch. 30 | Ch. 31 |Ch. 32 | Ch. 33| Ch. 34 | Ch. 35 | Ch. 36 | Ch. 37 | Ch. 38 | Ch. 39 | Ch. 40 |Ch. 41 |Ch. 42 |Ch. 43 |Ch. 44 |Ch. 45 |Ch. 46 |Ch. 47 |Ch. 48 |Ch. 49 |Ch. 50 |Ch. 51 |Ch. 52|
Ch. 53 |Ch. 54| Ch. 55|Ch. 56|Ch. 57|Ch. 58|Ch. 59|Ch. 60
The Biker's Wench
Chapter 61
Monica stretched and rubbed the back of her neck with one hand as she stepped off the bus in Salt Lake City. When she'd bought the ticket, she'd been dismayed that there was no direct route to Las Vegas, and that the one-way trip would take up to twenty hours. She needed to transfer to a different bus, but as she made her way across the dimly lit terminal, a sign on a large bulletin board caught her eye. It was an FBI "Wanted" poster, with the address of a local field office listed on the bottom. Thinking for a moment, she tried to remember if Burns had any connections in Utah, but couldn't think of any that she knew of. The chances were probably just as likely as Vegas, and if she could just hole up somewhere for the rest of the night, she could be at the office first thing in the morning.
The decision made, she punched the address into her cell phone, and brought up directions for how to get there. Of course it would be all the way across the city. She glanced at the time - ten o'clock. All the rental places would be closed by now, which left her either on foot, or in a cab. Easy choice.
Shifting her bag to the other hand, she walked out to the curb, giving several transient-looking people a wide berth. She walked half-a-block down and looked both ways, surprised not to see cabs lined up along the curb. Apparently bus travelers weren't big enough business to warrant a presence. Noting more traffic at one of the cross streets ahead, she hiked up to the corner and looked around, watching at least two cabs go by. When the next one came by, she held up a hand, grateful when it pulled to the curb.
"257 East 200 South please," she said as she got in the back seat. The driver, a man who appeared to be in his late forties frowned over the seat at her.
"Nothing's open over there this time of night. You sure you got the right address?"
She nodded. "I'm sure. Thank you."
He shook his head and faced forward again, muttering something under his breath as he pulled away from the curb. She looked out the window as they drove, wondering where Harley was now. Hopefully he'd gotten to the doctor in time, and was somewhere safe to heal. Tears pricked her eyes as she pushed the other options out of her mind. He had to be okay. She couldn't stand to think that something might have happened to him.
Pulling out her phone, she dialed Harley's number. It was risky, she knew, but she just wanted to know he was okay. To hear his voice again. Holding the phone to her ear, she waited as it rang back at her, twice before his voicemail picked up. She left a quick but vague message and hung up. Just in case.
Stifling a yawn, she laid her head back on the seat. Maybe she'd just take a quick nap to refresh herself. Her eyes drifted shut and just as she felt herself dosing off, the car lurched forward, tossing her forward into the plexiglass window. Her head bounced off the thick plastic and she fell back on the seat, dazed as the car came to an abrupt stop. Enjoy this installment? Try Desert Heat, available now at:
Amazon US | Amazon UK | Barnes & Noble | Smashwords | Diesel
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