Page 41 of Ethan

It was a one-on-one drill, testing the d-men’s ability to handle a one-on-one.

Charlie, who was on the first line, would’ve normally gone up against the top d-pair, but at the last moment, he waved one of the coaches over. Said a couple of words.

“Tuck,” the coach barked out. “You’re up first.”

Uh, what?

Jonesy shot him a pointed look as Hank skated to the front of the line.

Maybehedidn’t know why Charlie specifically had requested Hank, but Hank had a damn good idea.

And maybe Charlie was supposed to be some kind of generational talent, but Hank wasn’t about to just let him run circles around him, either.

He could hold his own. Hankhadto believe that. He’d bet his present and his entire future on being capable of doing that.

Plus, then there was the way Ethan would look if Hank could call him tonight and tell him just how badly he’d beaten his brother.

The coach blew the whistle and they took their positions.

“Let’s do this,” Jonesy called out. “You got this, Tuck.”

Hank set his shoulders. Took a deep breath and then let it out.

Reminded himself of how Charlie had come at their conversation just now. Charlie would do the same thing now.

Except of course, that wasn’t what Charlie did at all.

He took off, skating hard, skating fast, and it took Hank everything to keep up with him, to position himself in a better way to defend against the crease.

Charlie’s speed and his puck handling were both exceptional, but Hank wasn’t exactly a slouch either. He stuck his stick in a few times as they headed closer to the goal, trying to pull the puck away. To defend by potentially stealing the puck.

Once he even thought he had it, but Charlie tipped it away a second before he could grab it.

“Fuck,” he heard Charlie mutter as they skated in a tight, fast arc behind the net.

He hadn’t taken a shot, which meant that Hank was keeping up, that he hadn’t gotten a look that he’d liked.

That fact bolstered Hank’s confidence, and then, when Charlie slowed down, he remembered their conversation again, realizing that Charlie was going into his deceptive state.

Skating back and forth slower, just inside the blue line as he tried to find an angle that Hank wouldn’t anticipate.

“You got this, Barney,” Danny yelled.

Charlie made a face.

But then, Hank didn’t think he’d gone out of his way to pick him because Charlie thought he’d take it easy on him.

He waited one more pass, back and forth, before he skated up, deciding that they’d had enough of this. If Charlie wasn’t going to take a shot, then Hank was going to do it for him.

This time Charlie didn’t anticipate Hank’s stick coming in and this time he didn’t move defensively in enough time to stop it.

Hank plucked the puck off his stick and turned onhisspeed, to race up the ice towards the opposite goal, barely slowing to take his own shot, right at the empty net.

The puck sailed in and Charlie muttered another, “Fuck,” behind him.

But when Hank turned around, Charlie was grinning at him. “Killer move, Tuck,” Charlie said, patting him on the shoulder pad. “Wouldn’t have expected anything less.”

Hank already knew that the next time they faced off against each other, Charlie would be expecting him to do exactly that, again.