Kidnapping Me

Mr. Vampire...

Shaking my head, I laid my napkin delicaty on my lap, taking a sip from the Vodka in my wine glass. Gloria knew me a little too well....

"We meet again."

I placed my cup on the table. Please not him, please not him, please not him.....

Greyson slid into his seat on my left, smirking from ear to ear. Damn my Dad's match-making. I turned my head slightly, looking past Penny to the end of the table, where my Father sat at the Head. He caught my eyes, his lips curving into a smile as his eyes spotted Greyson beside me. Oh for heavens sake! He did try and Match-Make us. That man has no shame.

The first coarse was placed in front of me- A Steph Pizza. They're small pizza's with grilled chicken, a ton of chilly and beans, mexican spices, lettice, tomato etc. Taking the correct knife, I began cutting it up neatly into small pieces, popping them into my watering mouth.

I LOVE MEXICAN FOOD!

Taking a glance at Greyson, I frowned. He was using the wrong knife. I shook my head- So what if he was using the wrong knife? Taping him lightly on the shoulder, I grinned as sweetly as possible. Now that dad was watching, I couldn't be mean to him.

"You're using the wrong knife," I hissed, plastering a smile on my face.

He frowned. "What?"

I rolled my eyes, taking his hand in my fingers. I squeezed his wrist until he dropped the knife and snatches his hand away. I pointed to the smaller knife of the two. "This one. Use this one." I mumbled, waving mine at him.

He smiled then, a fleeting twitch of his lips in a semi-upward direction. I almost had a heart attack. Not because he smiled, but because of his... teeth. "Omg," I frowned, leaning closer to him. "Is that... natural?"

He narrowed his eyes, snapping his mouth shut into a thin pale line. "I don't know what your talking about." He snipped, angling his head away from me.

I raised an eyebrow at him, returning to sit properly in my seat. "Okay then... Mr. Vampire."

Greyson's head whipped back around and he glowered at me, a frustrated huff escaping between his tightly seal lips. I smirked back at him, taking a bit of my pizza with a smug smile gracing my lips. Damn straight, Mr. Vampire, I will not be letting this go.

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"I would like to propose a toast," My father said gruffly, in his mono-tone voice. "To my Family." He raised his glass at Penny and I, nodding his head slightly.

We raised ours in return, smiling stiffly. Dad's toast were never good at Dinner parties. As a buisness men, Dad was top of his game. As a Dad, he sucked. I remember one toast, when I was thirteen and Penny was twelve, Dad made a toast to Penny getting her period.  We were both mortified, and left the room in a huff, much to the amusement of his buisness partners. It took a whole two months before Penny would attend another of his Dinner parties.

Obviously having a similar recolection, penny made a face at me, quickly taking a sip of the Vodka in my glass.

"And," Dad laughed, keeping his audience captivate with his lengthy pause.

"Here we go." Penny and I muttered at the same time, sighing.

"To my new bride, Sarah." Dad finished, gesturing to the blonde beside him.

Sarah. Sarah had been his little toy for a month now. She was also, ironically, Julia's sister. She was about 26 years old, was 95% plastic and had such an orange fake tan, that she looked like a blonde haired Oomp Lumpa. But that wasn't the worst of it.

Now, the worst part was that after Dad had told me him and Julia were divorcing, he promised he'd take it slow this time. He promised  me that he'd meet a nice girl, his age, and take it slow. He promised. Clearly promises don't mean much these days.

I stood up abruptly, my chair scrapping along the ground like nails on a chalk board. Everyone's heads snapped in my direction as I stood, chucking the napikin onto my half eaten pizza.

Dad's eyes bored into my head, but I ignored his gaze. I ignored him. I stood there for a moment, shaking with anger, before picking up my glass of water and hurling it into the wall opposite me. It exploded, showering the people below with glass and water.

I knocked back my chair and it clattered to the ground. Turning on my heel, I marched right up to Dad, standing side on to him, not even looking his in the eye as I clenched and unclenched my jaw. "I'm going for a walk." I muttered to him and contiued walking.

"Grace." He gabbed my arm in his warm hand.

"Don't touch me!" I sheriked at him, ripping my arm from his grasp like he burned me. "Don't touch me." I said in the most menicing tone I could muster.

Dad nodded, his eyes sad, his mouth curved down at the edges. But I couldn't careless right now. I didn't care if I'd upset him, or hurt someone by throwing the glass across the room. I didn't care if I'd looked scary or insane.

I needed to get out of here.

Rushing down the hall, I grabbed my black leather jacket from the door and stalked out, slamming the door as loud as I could, so that everyone in the dining room would hear.

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