A Greek God Kidnapped Me

Chapter 9- Eat your words

Chapter 9- Eat your words

"Ivory!" I hear my dad call my name out. Cursing like there's no tomorrow, I turn away from the door and head towards the source of the voice, which was in the kitchen.

After my encounter with the very weird yet very gorgeous stranger, I decided that it was time to head back home, I didn't want to think about who that Nikola guy was talking too. It creep the fuck out of me. So I snuck back home, open my books, read some chapters, sleep, then tada! Here I am, trying to escape from dad, but completely and utterly failed.

My life sucks!

I see my dad drinking from his SUAVE mug while a newspaper was clutch on his other hand. Hearing my approach he looks up and smiles at me.

What.The.Fuck.

Did my dad just fucking smile at? Are my fucking eyes deceiving me? I mean who fucking smiles at someone who they just not hours ago slap? Oh my fucking god, I can't believe this.

"Aren't you going to eat breakfast?" He asks while I on the other hand was gaping like a mother fucking fish.

"I-uh- you-" I blubber out. Fucking kill me now! My dad chuckles at my incapability to speak out what I want to say. Oh, so he thinks this is amusing? What happened to the dad I knew last night? The one who slaps their fucking daughters.

"I see that breakfast isn't really your thing?" Shaking his head he grab his car keys, down his coffee and then grabs his jacket which was resting on his chair.

"What are you doing?" I ask my voice finally working.

He looks at me strangely. "What do you think I'm doing?" Shrugging his jacket on he heads towards the door. "I'm dropping you off to school."  He says in a duh tone after a few minutes of me glaring holes at his back.

Is he fucking serious right now?

"Come on, we haven't have all day!" I grumble profanities under my breath and clutch my bags strap so tight that I think I could rip this mother fucking strap.

Oh how I wish I was kidnap now!

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One word to describe the car ride. Intense.

Well it was intense for my part. I was glaring fucking holes on the side of his face and he in return just kept throwing smiles at me, I mean what the fuck? Did he got hit by a fucking truck and got amnesia or something? Because this is so not right. It was like yesterday never happened, that a massive fucking hand was not imprinted on my fucking cheek .

Oh and don't get me started with the whole "Camera on my bag" shit. I'm still not over with that fucking issue. Before I went to sleep last night, I found the fucking tiny camera sewed on my bad strap. How he knew how to sew? I don't fucking know. Want to know what I did to that twenty thousand camera? Yeah I searched the prize of that cock sucker and it felt good what I did to it.

I crushed it with my four inch heels! And I did it with style bitches.

"What's with the face?" I hear my friend Cassie asks me.  Closing my locker I face her and as usual she look like a goddess and I look like a fucking troll. "You look like a fucking pedophile or shit." She shudders at the word pedophile then in process stuck out her tongue in disgusts .

Wiping the smile or shall I say evil smile on my face, I glare at her. "I do not look like a pedophile!" I defend my gorgeous as fuck face. Okay, so it's not that gorgeous.  We start to head to class, me to English and she to History, cue in shudder. God, hate that subject.