Page 119 of His to Ruin

This isn’t my family. He said he was taking me to my family. The old man who took me from them is not my family and neither is…Lucas. Its Lucas, the guy Lexy was dancing with from the party at her house. The guy Saint beat the shit out of. What the hell is he doing here?

“Ah Jordina, there you are. We’ve been waiting for you to come join us. Please come in take a seat. I’m sure you’re hungry,” Ian greets.

The man I walked in with who I assume is the security pulls out a chair for me at the table. I hesitate unsure of what to do. I could make a run for it but I don’t know what they’ll do to me when they catch me. Plus, there could be others waiting outside like the man said. Hell, this whole place really could be surrounded for all I know. I need to see what this psychopath wants with me because he is mistaken, I’m not his granddaughter. I walk over to the table taking a seat.

A full buffet made up of fruit, freshly made bread, bacon and eggs is laid out on the table before me making my mouth water.

“Don’t be shy and help yourself,” Ian offers. “Make yourself at home.”

“This is not my home,” I tell him keeping my tone clipped.

“This is your rightful home child.”

“This isn’t my home. You’ve made a mistake. We are not related and you are not my grandfather,” I argue.

“Eat something first and then we’ll talk,” he tells me.

“I want nothing from you,” I spit, standing up.

“SIT DOWN,” he roars.

I look around the table but no one is watching me. Every head is lowered eating in silence.

“EAT SOMETHING,” he commands sternly smacking his fist off the table making everyone in the room including a little girl I didn’t notice before jump.

“NOW.”

Tears prick the corner of my eyes and I want to continue to argue that I shouldn’t be here, but I don’t. Instead I give in reaching across the table snatching a warm bagel off a tray.

Lucas smirks over to me with hateful eyes taking a forceful bite of a croissant.

“Coffee or tea miss?” a beautiful young brunette wearing a green apron asks over my right shoulder.

“Coffee. Thank you.” I reply with a tight smile.

She pours the dark liquid into my cup and I take a sip. Its good coffee, probably the nicest I’ve ever tasted.

“It’s good isn’t it? Ethiopia may be the birth place of coffee but for me its Brazil that makes the best. I have it shipped over specially.”

I don’t engage with him. If this is Ian’s attempt at small talk then he needs to do better. I don’t give two shits about coffee. This man took me from my home for fucks sake. I hate him.

I take another sip shifting my gaze to Lucas who watches me with curiosity chewing bacon like a cow grazing in a field. It’s disgusting.

“Now that we are all settled, I would like you to meet your family Jordina. This is your uncle Marcus wife Christine, his son Lucas and daughter Alicia,” Ian tells me.

“Hello Jordina. It’s so good to finally meet you.” Christine says peering over her glasses. She’s beautiful with dark brown curly hair that rests on her shoulders. She doesn’t look old enough to have a seventeen year old son.

These people may be strangers to me and are well aware of how I got to be here, but I was brought up to have manners so I return her smile politely.

“Hi Alicia. I’m Jordin. It’s nice to meet you,” I say to the little girl.

The little girl sweeps her hair away from her investigating eyes that’s peering up at me from her plate of pancakes that has a smiley face made with strawberries, chocolate sauce and cream, just like Millie does. Sadness pangs in my chest. I miss her. Even if what they all say is true that I’m not James biological child, Millie will always be my baby sister. Blood or not no one is going to take that away from me. Not Ian, not James, Gale, no one.

“I’m Alicia,” the little girl announces. She looks to be around the same age as Millie, maybe slightly older. The thought of Millie makes my chest expand. Will she be asking where I am? What will they tell her?

“Hey,” I utter to Lucas.”

“You can stop the fake introductions. We already met at your boyfriend’s best friend’s house remember?” Lucas scathes. “Na you probably don’t. Maybe if I cover my face in blood you would recognise me better right, Jordin?”

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