Charlie thinks that punishing Bella gives him the opportunity to stick it to Edward, too. In the latest chapter . . . Jacob rats on Bella about the motorcycle and Charlie is hopping mad.
******** Everything Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer*********
It had been almost three weeks since Cullen had re-materialized in Forks. Charlie spent a lot of that time trying to figure out how he could facilitate Bella making the decision to reduce her dependence on the boy. He and his family were part of a different world. A world were money made picking up and moving without a secondo glance possible and maybe even probable. A world were a teenage girl was bound to be hurt again.
"Bella, I can see his car and I know you're out there! If te aren't inside this house in one minute..." Charlie's stomach churned. He walked back into the cucina and yanked a drawer open and then slammed it shut. Charlie grabbed the dish towel on the counter and threw it on superiore, in alto of the microwave so that the display was removed from his sight.
Charlie pursed his lips and lifted his wrist. Bella's "one minute" was over. Charlie opened the front door.
"Isabella Swan!" Charlie sucked air deep into his chest and exhaled, letting his words reverberate inside his chest in the menacing manner only a police officer o a drill sergeant could muster.
One one-thousand. Two one-thousand. Three-one thousand. Damn! I. Can't. Believe. She's. Going. To. Make. Me. Drag. Her. In. Here.
When Charlie saw Bella and Edward moving toward the house, he stepped away from the door. He had already broadcast his displeasure to the entire neighborhood, but he wanted to let them wonder what might be awaiting them inside the house. Edward stepped up on the porch behind Bella. He bent inoltrare, avanti and reached for the door. He pulled it open for Bella, who marched resolutely inside, but stopped short, barely allowing Edward sufficient room to close the door behind himself.
Charlie glared. "In the kitchen," he barked as he wheeled away from the couple.
Charlie heard Bella shuffle toward the specified destination, but couldn't detect Edward's footfall. Sneaky little prick. Charlie had decided that tightening Bella's restriction on the grounds that hiding the motorcycle at La Push, even if she hadn't been riding it recently, was a crime that deserved a più stringent sentence than she was now serving. Consecutive sentences. Fifteen to life.
Charlie was ready to lynch Bella and Edward the secondo they set foot in the kitchen. Charlie noted that the arm that Edward had wrapped protectively around Bella when they walked in the house, had not moved.
"Edward, I want to see your hands. In your pockets. In the air. o folded in prayer. I don't care. I just want to see your hands anyplace but on Bella."
Charlie saw Edward hesitate. I know te can sposta faster than that, Edward. Charlie seethed.
Edward pulled his arm back, moving his hand to the small of Bella's back. He hoped that da standing slightly to the left and behind Bella he could conceal his noncompliance from Charlie. Bella was shaking più than she had been at anytime when they were in Voltera and he was afraid of letting her go; but the truth was that Edward needed a direct physical connection to remind him that he was there to support Bella, not to interfere.
"Ch-Dad. Let me explain," Bella begged. Charlie shushed her, so Bella settled for opening her mouth and gulping air.
"You don't have a license to drive a motorcycle. te don't have insurance and te will definitely never get my permission to own a motorcycle."
Bella tried to speak, but the effort was wasted.
Charlie began quoting statistics and describing the scenes of several fatal motorcycle accident that Charlie had investigated. ". . . I had to call out the fuoco department to get the blood washed off the street.'
Charlie stopped his macabre soliloquy and screwed up his face. "Stitches," Charlie spat, as he popped an antacid into his mouth. "Just how many times have te come in here with stitches, young lady? Do te really think I'll believe te tripped over something in Jacob's box auto, garage now?"
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******** Everything Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer*********
It had been almost three weeks since Cullen had re-materialized in Forks. Charlie spent a lot of that time trying to figure out how he could facilitate Bella making the decision to reduce her dependence on the boy. He and his family were part of a different world. A world were money made picking up and moving without a secondo glance possible and maybe even probable. A world were a teenage girl was bound to be hurt again.
"Bella, I can see his car and I know you're out there! If te aren't inside this house in one minute..." Charlie's stomach churned. He walked back into the cucina and yanked a drawer open and then slammed it shut. Charlie grabbed the dish towel on the counter and threw it on superiore, in alto of the microwave so that the display was removed from his sight.
Charlie pursed his lips and lifted his wrist. Bella's "one minute" was over. Charlie opened the front door.
"Isabella Swan!" Charlie sucked air deep into his chest and exhaled, letting his words reverberate inside his chest in the menacing manner only a police officer o a drill sergeant could muster.
One one-thousand. Two one-thousand. Three-one thousand. Damn! I. Can't. Believe. She's. Going. To. Make. Me. Drag. Her. In. Here.
When Charlie saw Bella and Edward moving toward the house, he stepped away from the door. He had already broadcast his displeasure to the entire neighborhood, but he wanted to let them wonder what might be awaiting them inside the house. Edward stepped up on the porch behind Bella. He bent inoltrare, avanti and reached for the door. He pulled it open for Bella, who marched resolutely inside, but stopped short, barely allowing Edward sufficient room to close the door behind himself.
Charlie glared. "In the kitchen," he barked as he wheeled away from the couple.
Charlie heard Bella shuffle toward the specified destination, but couldn't detect Edward's footfall. Sneaky little prick. Charlie had decided that tightening Bella's restriction on the grounds that hiding the motorcycle at La Push, even if she hadn't been riding it recently, was a crime that deserved a più stringent sentence than she was now serving. Consecutive sentences. Fifteen to life.
Charlie was ready to lynch Bella and Edward the secondo they set foot in the kitchen. Charlie noted that the arm that Edward had wrapped protectively around Bella when they walked in the house, had not moved.
"Edward, I want to see your hands. In your pockets. In the air. o folded in prayer. I don't care. I just want to see your hands anyplace but on Bella."
Charlie saw Edward hesitate. I know te can sposta faster than that, Edward. Charlie seethed.
Edward pulled his arm back, moving his hand to the small of Bella's back. He hoped that da standing slightly to the left and behind Bella he could conceal his noncompliance from Charlie. Bella was shaking più than she had been at anytime when they were in Voltera and he was afraid of letting her go; but the truth was that Edward needed a direct physical connection to remind him that he was there to support Bella, not to interfere.
"Ch-Dad. Let me explain," Bella begged. Charlie shushed her, so Bella settled for opening her mouth and gulping air.
"You don't have a license to drive a motorcycle. te don't have insurance and te will definitely never get my permission to own a motorcycle."
Bella tried to speak, but the effort was wasted.
Charlie began quoting statistics and describing the scenes of several fatal motorcycle accident that Charlie had investigated. ". . . I had to call out the fuoco department to get the blood washed off the street.'
Charlie stopped his macabre soliloquy and screwed up his face. "Stitches," Charlie spat, as he popped an antacid into his mouth. "Just how many times have te come in here with stitches, young lady? Do te really think I'll believe te tripped over something in Jacob's box auto, garage now?"
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