AUTHOR'S NOTES: I am so, so very sorry for keeping you all waiting this long. I've been out of town and other stuff has come up. But enough editorializing. Let's get started.

A NEW BEGINNING – CHAPTER THREE – SUSPICIONS

There was something wrong with Charlie. Fulton was positive. I may not be the sharpest knife in the drawer, but I know something's wrong with him. And if I know, it's probably a safe bet everyone else knows, too. It was obvious Charlie hadn't been sleeping. He was constantly yawning, distracted, and depressed. Fulton had heard his teammate wake up after one whopper of a nightmare the night before. Any attempt to discuss things was met with a curt, "I'm fine, Fulton." It wasn't like the Ducks' captain.

No time to think about that now, Fulton thought. The USA Ducks were nearing the end of their first game, and unless a tragedy occurred they were going to win.

Charlie stumbled over his skates and fell into the boards. He's too tired to play, Fulton noticed.

Adam scored a goal and the buzzer counted down from ten. The Ducks skated back to the box, slapping high fives and celebrating. Charlie attempted to appear interested, but mostly just got bumped aside by his teammates' jostling.

Fulton awoke at four-thirty AM to an unidentifiable sound. Still half-asleep, he fumbled for the light and turned it on. Charlie was sitting up, his back pressed against his headboard. His eyes were wide open, but he didn't seem to see anything.

"Charlie?" Fulton asked cautiously. When his teammate didn't respond, the Bash Brother moved closer. "Charlie?"

Charlie moved his head towards Fulton, but his eyes retained that "unfocused" look. "Is he gone?"

"Who?" Fulton asked, perplexed.

"Scott," was Charlie's toneless answer.

"Who-your stepfather?" Fulton asked.

Charlie nodded. "Is he gone?"

"He's…he's not here, Charlie." Fulton was beginning to get scared. "Are you OK? You're not, like, sleep-talking or anything, are you?"

Suddenly, Charlie's eyes cleared. "Never mind," he said. "I'll just go back to sleep now."

"Wait a second." Fulton put his hand on Charlie's arm, but the other boy jerked it away. "That was weird. What's going on?"

"Nothing," Charlie said tonelessly. "Just let me go to sleep."

Fulton complied, but waited a moment before going back to his own bed. My gosh, he thought. Is Charlie's stepfather abusing him.

Gordon stood outside the locker room. Practice had gone well, but Fulton, Adam, and Dwayne had all raised concerns about Charlie. Gordon decided it was time to confront Charlie about this. It had gone on long enough for Gordon to really believe something was wrong.

The rest of the team had left and Charlie was still inside. Gordon poked his head in. "Charlie-" He stopped short.

Charlie's back was facing the door. As he pulled off the white T-shirt, Gordon noticed that his star player's back was covered in bruises. Some were old, some looked fresh. "What happened to your back, Charlie?"

Charlie jumped. "Coach! You scared me."

"What happened to your back?" Gordon repeated, stepping into the room.

"Nothing," Charlie said.

"Nothing?"Gordon asked disbelievingly.

"I was playing hockey!" Charlie replied defensively.

Gordon was careful to keep his voice calm. "Charlie, you don't get bruises like that from playing hockey."

Charlie sat down on the bench and swiped at his eyes.

"Charlie?" Gordon's concern was now giving way to outright worry. "What happened?"

Charlie shook his head and stared at the floor.

"It's OK," Gordon sat down on the bench. "You can tell me."

"My stepdad," Charlie began. "He…he gets drunk when Mom's not around." The teen sniffed and wiped his eyes. "Then he comes home and…he beats me up."

Gordon could not believe what he'd just heard. He'd never really liked Scott Farquhar, but he'd just chalked it up to jealousy and remorse that he hadn't proposed to Casey when he had the chance. This was unthinkable. "Does your mom know?"

Charlie shook his head, beginning to cry harder. "No. She's-she's happy with Scott. I won't…I can't ruin that."

"Charlie." Gordon forced the Ducks' captain to look at him. The boy looked scared out of his mind. "You need to tell her. You can't let Scott keep doing this to you. He's committing a crime, and he'll give you permanent damage or kill you if this keeps going."

"B-but Mom's finally happy," Charlie said again. "She loves Scott. If I tell her…"

"You have to tell her," Gordon ordered gently. "There's no way your mom would want Charlie to keep doing this to you, even if she does love him."

Charlie buried his head in Gordon's side. He was shaking like a leaf. "Don't tell anyone, Coach," he begged. "Not until we get home."

Gordon placed his arms around Charlie, being careful not to put too much pressure on the bruises. "I won't," he promised.