[Disclaimer] Everything Twilight belongs to Mrs. Stephenie Meyer

[A/N] Thanks for your reviews. It makes me happy that some of you are supporting me on this journey. Your love for my writing means a lot to me.

**12**

I am numb, unable to take another breathe until my lungs starts hurting painfully. Seeing, my son so close to the man I used to call father is too overwhelming.

"Andy," he whispers. "I'm Andy Brandon,"

"It's nice to meet you, Andy. I'm Charlie. Do you like police cars?"

My son nods and eventually I find my own speech again. I place my hand on Andy's shoulder to pull him away from Charlie.

"Sweetie, go back inside the house. It's too cold here for you without your jacket."

"Hmm,"

"Do what Mommy tells you." I say, trying to keep my voice as light as possible.

He waves his hand at Charlie and runs off towards the Cullen's house. I can see Alice hugging him in the doorframe before she pulls him inside.

"You make the boy call you Mommy? That's the sickest shit, I've ever heard."

"It's none of your business, Charlie." I hiss through my teeth. "My child is none of your fucking business."

He chuckles and starts playing with the ends of his moustache, twisting the coarse hair around his fingertips.

"He's my grandchild. I never thought I'd have one from that freak of a son I put into this world."

"You never had a son," I whisper, turning around. My knees are weak, and I can feel the tears burning in my eyes. Don't cry, just don't cry.

"Brian! Brian, wait!"

I stop and very slowly I turn around to face my father again. His lips are a tight line, his hands fisted inside the pocket of his jacket.

"That's not my name, not anymore."

"It's the name I gave you for fucks sake, you stubborn little freak."

"Stop talking to Bella in that tone, Mr. Swan." Alice growls wrapping her arms around my trembling body.

"You may call my son whatever you want, little Missy. It won't change who he is. What he is."

"And what the fuck is she to you? Nothing! You don't even want to get to know her. Let me tell you she's the most caring, loving, amazing woman in the entire world. I can't believe she's from a piece of shit like you."

"Alice, you don't have to defend me." I croak, wiping some tears from my cheeks. "Let's just go back inside the house."

"I'm not finished talking to you, son!"

"Mr. Swan, stop yelling. Do you want to alarm the entire neighborhood?"

Charlie sighs and gestures toward his house behind him.

"Can we talk inside then?"

"Do you really want to talk or just keep on insulting my wife with your mean comments?"

He spites out on the ground and clears his throat loudly.

"Just talking,"

I nod my head and take Alice's hand while I follow him inside the house I haven't set one foot in for several years now.

Inside it smells of dirty dishes and beer. The entire place is a pigsty.

Charlie shoves some clothes from the couch and points for us to sit down.

Alice tightens the grip around my hand, and I'm incredibly grateful she's here with me. She makes me feel stronger than I am.

"Place is a mess. I don't have time for this housework stuff with my crappy hours."

"Are you sober?" I ask, noticing the empty bottles of beer on the table.

He grabs all of them and carries them to the kitchen to throw them in the trash.

"I hadn't had one fucking beer in three days. Do you know you much I wanted to have one?"

"No," I mumble although deep inside of me, I can understand his behavior for the first time in my life. Drinking helps me to relax better. Maybe it is the same for him?

"Mom left you. Esme mentioned something about her having moved to Florida."

"She's a slut. Renee left me to fuck the shit out of this guy who's young enough to be her kid."

"I'm sorry she left you. It must be hard."

"I don't give a shit. All we did was fighting all day long. It was getting tiresome."

His eyes move down my body, from my face to my feet that are in a pair of expensive high heels today.

"This is not normal." he mumbles reaching out his hand to run it over my jaw and throat. "Smooth like a baby's ass. How the fuck did you manage that?"

"Electrolysis," I mumble towards the ground. Why does he want me even to be inside the house? He hates me. He hates what I am.

"Bella, do you want us to leave?" Alice asks, rubbing her thumb in circles over my wrist.

"I don't know. Charlie, what do you want to talk about?"

"The name is Dad, Brian."

Alice pulls me up from the couch and her eyes are angry little slits when she starts speaking, her voice hard and colder than ice.

"Her name is Bella. Why can't you call her by the name she has given herself? Why do you have to be an arrogant piece of shit that doesn't care about her feelings?"

"He's not a real woman, you know?" he tells her, crossing his arms in front of his chest. His eyes move to the wall that is covered with countless childhood pictures of Brian. Why did they keep those?

"She's what you want to see in her. I get it you miss your son. But he's gone now and there is no way for him to come back here." Alice says, and I notice that she's close to start crying. Damn it. I won't let that happen. We have to get out of this place as soon as possible.

Then I hear a loud throaty sob. Not from my wife but from the man sitting on the couch opposite of us. I can't remember having seen my father cry before. He thinks it's a sign of weakness or some crap like that.

"He's gone. He's gone. Brian is gone and that's my fault."