Chapter 12

BPOV

I could barely make it through school in the morning. After that bomb was dropped on me last night, I couldn't stand to sleep one moment longer in the same bed as that traitor beside. Thank God Charlie was a heavy sleeper because I practically had to wrestle out of his arms to get away. I barely slept a wink in my own room and left the house before Charlie got up; the only thing I could focus on as I drove around Forks in the early morning was ripping Evie's hair out with my own two hands. God, I was just so livid, like every pore in my skin was on fire, like a dog raising its hackles, ready for a fight. And trust me, there would be fight and in the end, I would be the only bitch standing. I wouldn't stop until that happened.

Because my father was mine and mine alone! No one else had claim to him; no one else was allowed to touch him like I could. And the idea of that whore running her fingers down his sleeve made me see red.

Oh, she was a dead woman. And when I saw her next I was going to…

"Miss Swan?"

Ms. Elliot's voice pierced through my haze, jolting me back into the present. Then I remembered where I was and why my scrawny, bird-like English teacher was calling my name. Because I was in class. I was in class and everyone was staring at the girl who had practically been foaming at the mouth and gripping her pencil to the snapping point. I looked down at the shattered wood in my fist; I could feel the splinters digging into my skin, my hands shaking with tension as I unclenched them.

I swallowed heavily, shaking off some of the strangeness I was feeling. "Yes Ms. Elliot?" I knew my voice was shaking as well, but it was tiny in comparison to how I was really feeling. The woman looked down on me with concerned eyes, her glasses sliding down her beak nose.

"Care to answer my question?" she replied coolly. Even though I knew she was being bitchy, I was thankful that she didn't call any more attention to my embarrassing state. Sometimes she had a purpose. If she were anyone else I might've given her more respect.

"What was the question again?" I asked innocently, trying to ignore the snickers that came from the nerds behind me. Liked I gave a damn what they thought about me, with their oversized backpacks and Doctor Who teeshirts.

"Do you believe that Oedipus's died of his own doing, or was he simply a victim of fate?"

I knew that Ms. Elliot hated repeating herself, her tone too sweet to be sweet - more like she was making me out to be a simpleton. And compared to anyone in the room, on the topic of English, we all were simpletons to her. She was the scary kind of smart, the kind of smart that made you cringe away from her because she just knew things that no one else could possibly remember. And I knew that anything I said she wouldn't take kindly to.

"I'm sorry, I don't understand?"

Well that was like a nail on my coffin, and the whole class let out a silent, collective gasp. They knew I was done for too.

"You did read the Theban Trilogy, did you not? I assigned it last week."

My silence was all the answer she needed. She shook her head and sighed, muttering something under her breath before going to her desk and returning with a flimsy, thin book. The cover was worn, but I could still see a crude drawing of a man with bleeding eyes and a crown, people fallen at his feet weeping. Frankly I was disturbed.

"Oedipus, the King of Thebes in ancient Greece, was cast out by his mother and father as a baby after a prophecy was given by the Fates foretelling that a son born by them would live to kill his father and marry his mother. So of course Oedipus grew up only to unknowingly meet his father on the road and kill him in a fit of anger. He then goes to Thebes to take the throne from the slain king and marries the former king's wife - his mother - as per tradition. They have four children, and the prophecy is now complete. Of course it is Oedipus's own curiosity that destroys him. On his hunt to find out who he is, he uncovers the truth of his parentage. In horror, his mother hangs herself, and Oedipus himself gouges his own eyes out with her pins."

"Wonderful," I replied in a small voice. But I really had no cares about what this king did. He wasn't even real.

"My question to you Miss Swan is if you think that Oedipus's fate could've been avoided. Had he been happy with what he had and not gone looking, could he have lived a happy life in ignorance? Or do you think that fate was at play?"

I sat back in my seat, wracking my mind for anything I could glean from her description and the few pages I had actually had the chance to look at.

"I don't know. I mean we all decide our own fates right? So if he never went looking for his parents, I think he could've avoided it yeah…or at least not have gone crazy when he found out the truth. I mean, he had a good life. He was a king, wasn't he? He could've just kept it a secret and no harm would've been done to anyone."

Ms. Elliot gave me a pensive look, halfway between amused that I could actually think, and pitying that I could actually pass that off as a good answer. But then again I could never read her. Maybe she was pleased that I had given her something new to debate about. God that woman loved to debate. I swore it was just to tear others down. Her point was always the right point, no questions asked. No exceptions.

"Hmmm… but do you think that that is moral though? To live a life of lies? To have reproduced with your own parent and kept that information from them and your children? What would you do if you found yourself in your parent's bed, how would you take that?"

I swallowed thickly, my throat suddenly uncomfortably dry. This was hitting way too close to home, and it was making my discomfort escalate. I watched as Ms. Elliot smirked at me, taking my discomfort as a sign of defeat. But how was I supposed to react to her question? She had no idea how deeply this topic affected me. She had no idea…and I was just supposed to bear all to the class? Hell no!

"I don't know," I finally managed to wheeze out through controlled lips. I had taken to clutching onto the metal bar beneath my desk to keep from totally losing it.

Ms. Elliot was eating my reaction up, puffing out her chest in some sort of twisted victory. I felt for sure that she was about to patronize me, and I had never hated her more, all those previous good feelings gone in a moment.

"Well, the moral of the story is: you cannot avoid the fates Miss Swan. Perhaps if you had shown up for class yesterday you would've known that."

"If that's the answer, then why bother asking me at all?"

"Think of it this way: in the end, we all get what's coming to us. You can only hide secrets for so long before they come back to haunt you."

She stared at me hard for a good few minutes and felt as if my heart would stop in my chest. It was like she could see through me, and I had to fight off the panic that was building inside me. She couldn't know! How could she know? Thoughts were whirling and screaming through my head as she fixed me with her icy gaze. I was dead, oh I was dead. I was sure that terror was spread all over my face, clear as day for the class to see, but I was paralyzed. But then she broke her stare and turned to face the rest of the class, and I let out a not so subtle breath.

"Everyone turn to page sixty-seven. We'll finish our analysis of Oedipus at Colonus today in class and hold discussion of Antigone tomorrow."

The whole class broke out into a flurry of pages and murmurs of discontent, completely over what had just happened, but I was too busy trying to calm myself down yet again. My heart was hammering so hard that I thought that it might try to jump out of my chest in a full-blown panic attack. Now that would be a sight.

But I couldn't stay in this class for much longer. Every whisper between friends, every side glance or nervous gesture seemed to be pointed at me. The paranoia was setting in, that nagging voice in the back of my mind that was screaming at me, "They all know!" I was getting fidgety, and if I didn't leave soon, I knew I was going to end up scratching my skin off.

"Ms. Elliot!" I nearly shouted, interrupting her mid sentence. She looked up at me, rather peeved, but I continued on anyway. "I need to go to the bathroom."

She opened her mouth to speak, but I didn't wait for her to give her consent. I didn't even grab the stupid bathroom clipboard. I just grabbed my purse and practically ran out of the classroom, the door slamming shut behind me, drowning out Ms. Elliot's protests and threats of failing me. She wouldn't do it.

And so for the second day in a row I found myself holed up in the bathroom.

I didn't know when I decided to just leave school instead of wait until the final bell, but I knew I had done it when I saw the road out in front of me, my hands clenched tightly on the steering wheel. I also didn't know when I decided to pay Charlie a visit at the station until I found myself standing in front of the main doors, pushing them open with a sound thud. But there I was.

The office wasn't as busy as it was yesterday, but there were still a few people bustling about. I still had to step over crates of files and dodge the occasional overly-enthusiastic officer. Everything was so alarmingly normal that it only made me feel more tense.

"Bella, what are you doing here?"

I groaned as Officer Richards approached me, happy to see me per usual, but this time a little confused. I returned his obligatory bear hug, but I was in no mood to chat.

"Well, you were the one who said that I should stop by and say hi more often," I explained, painting on a smile that I knew lacked its usual charm and luster. But Officer Richards still laughed a bit. I could see that I was not expected, nor particularly wanted around at the moment, but he was too nice of a man to say anything. And honestly, I was in too big of a dilemma right now to listen if he did kick me out.

"Well, I didn't really mean that you had to come today…don't you have school?" He replied amicably, now taking in my flustered attitude and growing a tad concerned.

"Free period," I responded almost too quickly, as if that one over-used excuse was a free pass to get me anywhere I wanted to go.

"Okay…" Officer Richards rumbled. I knew he wasn't buying it, but I knew that he also couldn't do anything about my skipping class. Besides, he probably thought something serious was happening for me to be here during a school day. I was never one to break the rules. Not the Bella he knew.

"Is my dad here?" I asked, trying to maintain some normality to the conversation.

"Uh, yeah, should be in his office," he told me, nodding to my father's office, the same one he's had for years. But there was a new addition, one that I was adamant on rooting out.

"Thanks," I gave Officer Richards a kiss on the cheek before turning to go see my father.

I wasn't even there for a legitimate reason. Just that Oedipus thing had scared me so badly that I felt like I needed to be here, to keep him from gouging out his eyes. To keep me from going home hanging myself with my own sheets like Jocasta. Nowhere and no one felt safe; at every turn I felt like everyone knew exactly what was going on, and I didn't like it. I didn't like being this out of control. Not at all.

"Hello, how can I help you?"

A high pitched trill reached my ears, bringing me back to the present for the second time today, and I found myself faced with the devil herself, her long eyelashes batting down innocently on overly-blushed cheeks. She was like a walking Mary-Kay model on overdrive. I almost cringed but, as much as I wanted to wipe that makeup off her face with her own tears of defeat, I had better manners than that.

"I need to see the Chief," I stated in a monotone, not willing to commit any form of previous interest into Evie Winters. After all, I wasn't supposed to know her. We were strangers. She didn't know what I knew about her, and maybe that was her only saving grace.

"I'm sorry, but you'll need an appointment if you want to-"

"No, I really don't," I cut her off, growing tired of protocol. I just needed to see Charlie, and this bitch didn't need to keep me from him.

"Yes, I'm afraid you do. Now if you will please leave and-"

"No, I don't," I reiterated, this time speaking painfully slow so that this dumb bimbo could hear every single word. I was sure I was out of line, but I didn't give a damn. "My name is Bella Swan and I am here to see my father."

"Oh, I am so sorry, excuse me! Let me go and get him!"

Evie suddenly became flustered, immediately getting up to leave her desk and check my father's office. She came back a moment later, her face red and flyaway curls laying in the middle of her forehead. She swatted them away and gave me her most apologetic smile.

"I'm sorry but your father really is in an important meeting right now, but you are more than welcome to leave a message with me and I'll make sure he gets it."

"That's alright. I'd rather wait for him myself," I told her, taking a seat in the waiting chairs outside my father's office, across from Evie's brand new desk. I had to roll my eyes internally at that. Why the woman needed a desk in front of my father's office instead of the already established front one escaped me. Completely ridiculous.

"Okay then, that's fine too Miss Swan," she smiled widely, now ready to bend to my every will because of who I was attached to. Oh, how the twisted world worked these days.

"Bella, please," I insisted, using my sweetest voice in order to mask my true feelings of absolute loathing that I held towards her. Thankfully, she didn't think anything of my ulterior motives and was just as bubbly with me as she continued talking.

"That is such a pretty name! I had a puppy named Bella when I was younger, but she passed away when I was nine."

Evie spoke to me like I was a little girl, feeling the need to be overly animated and use her patronizing voice that all the administrators at school used. The I-am-better-and-older-than-you-so-I-can-talk-to-you-like-a-child-voice. It only increased my dislike for her, and how my father could stand to be around that was a mystery to me.

"How tragic," I replied, only halfway interested in what she was babbling about now. But a sudden change in conversation drew in my attention a hundred percent.

"Bella, if you don't mind me saying this, but I am actually really glad I got the chance to finally meet you."

"Really?" She knew about me?, I though to myself.

"Oh yes! Charlie likes to talk about you a lot, and I have always been curious about the girl behind all his funny stories."

"Funny stories?" I asked, my eyebrows raised in disbelief. Charlie liked to tell stories…sometimes. They were corny and they rambled, but they were never funny. Never.

"The funniest! It's one of the things I find most attractive about him."

"Excuse me?" I asked in a sassier tone, completely taken aback. Not only was this beyond inappropriate to be talking about because my father was her boss, but she was talking about my father at all. My father.

"Well it's no secret that your father is an attractive man in more than just the face," she explained like it was the simplest thing in the world, her expression one of a love-struck schoolgirl's, and it made me want to throttle her right then and there.

"Are you saying that you like my father?" I accused more than asked her, trying to put two and two together. It was as if all my fears were being confirmed and I had no power to stop them.

"Are you okay with that? Because I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

My throat grew tight; I swore that breathing was impossible through the fire that was raging inside me. There it was. The confession I had needed to certify that I wasn't just going crazy, and to justify my intense anger.

"Why would you make me uncomfortable?" I smiled the fakest smile, all malice and ill will, but she didn't know the difference.

"Well, things between your father and I have begun to become more than just…platonic. I just wanted to let you know it first from me in case things take a turn for the serious."

I literally snorted at that, making her look up from the papers she was filing to shoot me a strange look.

"Oh, I doubt that will happen."

"Excuse me?"

Now it was her turn to be confused, and I relished in her indignant expression, her too-tweezed eyebrows curling up in a comical manner.

"Charlie knows where his heart lies, and it's with me. We have a good life together. Besides, he's still not over my mother. She was the love of his life."

She seemed to relax at this "revelation" which unsettled me. Her face melted into one of pity and condescension.

"Really? Well he seemed quite over her when we got coffee the other day."

Her words were targeted and precise, cutting me exactly where she knew it was. This new approach was so different than the perky office act she had going on, and she flipped the switch in an instant. Perhaps I had underestimated her all along. Now she was gaining the upper hand, and my stalling of a response was helping her win. But I didn't know how to come back from that. My horror-struck mind was too caught up in images of her laughing at my father over a cup of coffee, running her hands over what clearly was not hers to have.

"He's very good at hiding his emotions," I replied tersely through closed teeth. My anger was visible, and she reached over to pat my arm in "sympathy". Her touch was like acid on my skin, and I visibly shirked away from her. She retreated and gave me another pitying glance.

"I'm sorry sweetie, but your father is a very attractive man. You'll have to get used to the fact that there may be other women in his life."

"We'll see," I borderline hissed at her, completely done with this petty argument. I just needed to leave and clear my head. "Tell my father that I'll talk to him at home."

"Pleasure meeting you Bella!" Evie chimed after me like nothing had happened as I grabbed my things from the other chair beside me and sauntered away from her desk. Evie could have this tiny victory, but I would sure as hell win the grand prize. Blood ran so much thicker than water, and I knew where Charlie's real loyalties lied…at least I hoped I did. Whatever Evie was to him, she would stop being to him very soon.

I slammed the station doors behind me like a child in the midst of a temper tantrum. God I hated how she could get so far under my skin! She was like a parasite, feeding off of my doubts and fears and playing her sick little games! I could hear her nagging voice in the back of my mind as I replayed our conversation, my face getting hotter and hotter every time I went through the banter.

I should've just called her out then and there and gotten her fired. There had to be some code about boss-employee relationships, something that could get her removed on the spot and sent to some back alley department ten states away. But that was only wishful thinking.

I stood outside of the station for a long time just thinking, my mind going rampant with ideas and plots to rid Evie from my life. And then I heard a car alarm charm, the single beeping noise that notified the driver that the car had unlocked. And I followed that sound to an officer that was getting into the cab of his Ford and driving off into the afternoon traffic.

Glinting in the rare sunlight, the car in front of me was shiny and posh, the windows sleek and new. I recognized the label as a Bentley, something completely out of place in Forks, Washington unless you were a Cullen. This was a car for an outsider - a bitchy, stuck-up outsider at that. Evie

I walked around to the side, peering into the driver's window. The seats were leather, leather and pushed down far too much for normal driving. There were smears of handprints across the bottom of the passenger windows and suddenly I knew exactly what had happened in this car. I nearly choked on my anger, but forced myself to remain in control.

I let my nails scrape down the immaculate paint job until I felt the indent of the hood against my fingertips. The cool metal hummed under my hand, and I felt so powerful. The possibilities were endless, and Evie Winters had such a nice car.

I heard another engine start up in the parking lot and looked up to see another officer leaving to go home. He probably had a family to protect, to come home to. Children to play with and a wife to hold and make love to. He had it all. And that was all I wanted too, to have Charlie come home and that home be me. And I was willing to do anything to make that happen.

Yes, I thought to myself, Evie Winters has a very nice car.

I was curled up on the couch, semi-reading a book, semi-stewing over the Evie problem, when Charlie finally came home from the station. At least that was where I assumed he was, and he wasn't passing his time in the back seat of Evie's car. I heard the crunch of his tires on the gravel and soon after, the tell tale click of a key in a lock.

"Hey, I'm home!" Charlie called in his usual greeting, making a raucous of shedding his layers of uniform and dropping his bags in the foyer.

"Hmmm…" I hummed from my spot in the family room, sticking my nose further into my book to avoid contact with him. As much as I wanted to settle this crisis, I also wanted to avoid any and all conflicts.

Charlie became visible as he walked into the kitchen, spotting me on the couch and then changing his directory. Fuck.

I couldn't stop him from placing a kiss on my forehead, but I did shy away from his stubble. At least he didn't smell like alcohol or Evie, which made me breathe a small breath of relief. But it didn't stop me from being livid as hell.

"How was school today?" he asked amicably. His naivety was driving me insane.

"Fine. We're reading Oedipus in English class now," I replied as shortly as possible, wanting to get the point across that I was pissed off and not wanting to be bothered. But Charlie just wasn't getting the message. He also didn't seem to get the Oedipus reference, or didn't show that he did, to which I just frowned.

"No dinner?" he jested at me as he moved to the kitchen, looking for his usual meal. Even before we became a thing I would make him dinner for when he came home. I rarely ever didn't do it. Until now.

"I didn't know how late you would be, and I was tired," I explained casually like it was no big deal.

Charlie turned to me at this, finally realizing that something was different, only to find me nose-deep into my book. I refused to acknowledge him more than I had to, and I was glad that he was finally starting to feel the cold wind blow.

"My secretary told me you dropped by the office. Heard you two had a nice chat," Charlie continued, stupidly thinking that a change of topic would help. But that topic only made me angrier and deader set on keeping up this charade.

Nice talk. Yeah, if nice included a near fight to the death…

"I guess," I replied, giving nothing away. I had to say, I was getting very good at the whole lying thing.

"She said you had something to tell me?" Charlie continued, clearly trying to get me to open up. He wouldn't succeed.

"I figured it out. Nothing to worry about."

"Okay…"

Charlie was no idiot. He could tell that something was amiss, but he just couldn't tell what that thing was. And I sure as hell wasn't going to tell him. He needed to squirm for a little bit. It was only fair for all the squirming he made me do with all my second-guessing.

Without precedent, I snapped my book shut and stood up and stretched out my body from where I had folded in on myself. I had had enough of him for the day. All I wanted now was to be alone and to think in peace. Charlie just made everything so much cloudier.

"I'm gonna go to bed."

"Do you want me to join you?" Charlie stood up from where he had sat at the kitchen table, dropping the sports section with clear intentions of following me.

"Mmmm…no that's okay."

"You alright?" Charlie came up and placed a hand on my shoulder, and it took all my willpower not to throw that hand off. I had to remain cool and unknowing…for now. I could slap him and scream later. Instead, I mustered up a flat half-smile and tried to patch over my completely strange but justified behavior.

"Yeah, it's just been a long day…and I'm on my period. So no sex."

"But you just had your period a few weeks ago…?" Charlie questioned, completely confused.

"It came early," I replied curtly, looking at him like the idiot he was. "Problem?"

I wanted him to argue, to say something snide or rude. I wanted him to open this Pandora's Box. But I knew he wouldn't. He couldn't risk telling me the truth, and I knew that until he fessed up to what I knew he was doing behind my back, then I had his balls in a vice grip. And he would let me keep him that way. I had to admit the power play was giving me a wonderful high, and I would've enjoyed it more had it been during any other circumstances.

"No, no problem," Charlie muttered out, running a hand through his hair in a frustrated manner.

"Good," I said, turning to walk up the stairs without as much as a hug or kiss in parting. "Goodnight."

A/N: So this was a pretty Bella-centric chapter, since this is where all the action is happening. The next chapter may be more Bella-centric as well, but Charlie and Jake are going to make their appearances again, Charlie before Jake obviously. I am not quite sure where I am taking this Jake line...I have like two ideas and haven't decided yet. So until then he might take a little hiatus.

But I hoped that you guys liked this chapter! Who liked the cat fight? I have been waiting to write their introduction for the longest time! And what about the mysterious Ms. Elliot? You guys will be seeing more of her I can tell you that...Just as an aside, I love the Oedipus stories/Theban Trilogy; it was one of the main things that I had in mind when I was creating this story. If you haven't read them, I highly recommend them (you now even have a brief synopsis!). But then again I love mythology in general, so there's that...

All of your positive reviews and some rare spare time on my hands made this "speedy" update possible. Miss kathymoonstone was kind enough to email me to petition for a much-wanted update. Not saying that PMing me for an update will always work, but your interest level definitely makes me put this story as a higher priority. I always appreciate it when you all contact me and talk to me about my story, even if it's not all sunshine and roses; I love getting to know what you think and what you want to happen. As usual I love the love and support from all my readers, and I just want to remind you that reviews are love as well :)

So, stick with me! Crazy times next chapter! More Greek mythology and psychology to come, and what exactly was Bella all over Evie's car? Will they come to blows? I guess we'll have to wait and see...