The Intuition - Debra Kayn Page 0,8

with relief.

"Sit and eat." She reached over and removed a plate from the cabinet, putting it at the table beside Trina. "I'll put more pancakes on."

Taking in the familiar way she glided from one appliance to the next, he moved toward the closest chair. She knew her way around his kitchen. Either she'd snooped around in his cupboards and fridge, or she'd asked Trina where to locate everything to make breakfast.

He sat and planted his elbows on the surface of the table. Laurel worked with ease, making more food and taking care not to burn the bacon.

Not much of a cook, he'd only started fixing dinners at home once Trina arrived at his doorstep. Breakfast and lunch were usually something they both could grab and came from the fruit and vegetable aisle at the store.

"Did you make her fix you a meal?" he asked Trina quietly.

His daughter shook her head and swallowed. "She offered."

"She's hurt."

"I know."

"Don't be asking her for anything. She's leaving."

Trina slid off her chair, took her plate to the sink, and rinsed off the dish before putting it in the dishwasher. Then, turning toward Laurel, Trina thanked her, then slipped out of the kitchen without acknowledging him.

His cheek twitched. His relationship with his daughter hadn't changed much over time. She spoke when he asked her questions, but she never volunteered anything about herself.

Laurel carried over four pancakes on a spatula, setting the stack on the plate in front of him. He poured syrup over the top, spreading the small drop around with his fork.

"There's butter in the dish." Laurel set four pieces of bacon on the edge of his plate.

"I don't eat butter." He dug in and took a bite.

Food was a necessity to keep his strength, along with a rigorous workout. Lately, he'd had to squeeze in time to workout when he should be sleeping. The activities in the cave and dealing with running the town kept him busy.

Avery Falls wouldn't run itself. The club oversaw each business and dealt with the tourists while keeping them separated from the newer members trying to adapt in society. There was a fine line to making their quiet mountain life work without anyone finding out about the Alpha Bio Project and what kind of men made up the motorcycle club.

Laurel cleaned the kitchen while he finished his late breakfast. Aware of her near, he consumed every drop of food on his plate.

"Have you decided on what you want done with your car?" he asked, ready to get her out of the house.

She folded the wet dishrag and draped it over the divider in the sink. "In your opinion, is it fixable?"

"No."

Her slender shoulders sagged. "I'll need my bag. It was in the car."

"I'll get it for you."

She pursed her lips to the side. He waited for more instructions on what she wanted to do, but she remained quiet.

"I'll ride over to the wrecking yard." He stood. "It'll take me an hour or so."

"Where is it located?"

"St. Maries."

"Where exactly is that?"

He motioned with his chin, confused about her not knowing the location. "About an hour or so west of here.

She raised her arm and pulled her hand away before she touched the stitches in her forehead. "I'm getting a headache."

"There's Tylenol in the bathroom." It was a medicine Trina had brought into the house when he'd sent her for food at the store a few months ago. Having read the information on the bottle, he understood it was for headaches, muscle aches, menstruation, toothaches—things that had nothing to do with him because of the Alpha Bio Project.

"Thanks." She slipped past him and left the room.

He grabbed his keys and went outside. Aware she hadn't answered him on what she wanted done with the damaged car, he decided to get her bag and set her up somewhere else until she decided what to do about her situation.

She wasn't his problem. He had enough going on in his life.

Chapter Four

Speeder dropped his duffle on the floor by the door, strode across the room, and handed Laurel her backpack. She clung to the bag, recognizing it as belonging to her.

"Thank you." She unzipped the pack and thumbed through the interior, relieved the contents were still there.

"There were a bunch of clothes and shoes scattered throughout the car. I thought you might want them, so I put everything in a garbage bag and tied it on the back of my motorcycle." He pointed over his shoulder. "There's also a Ziplock bag inside there with