Steel Read Online Free Page B

and—Steel, fuh Chrissake, you’ll get killed! It’s a B-seven! Don’t ya understand? A B- seven! You’ll be mangled!”
    Kelly was working the dark trunks over Maxo’s hips.
    â€œI won’t let ya do it, Steel,” Pole said. “I’ll go to—”
    He broke off with a sucked-in gasp as Kelly whirled and moved over quickly to haul him to his feet. Kelly’s grip was like the jaws of a trap and there was nothing left of him in his eyes.
    â€œYou’ll help me,” Kelly said in a low, trembling voice. “You’ll help me or I’ll beat ya brains out on the wall.”
    â€œYou’ll get killed,” Pole murmured.
    â€œThen I will,” said Kelly.
    *   *   *
    Mr. Waddow came out of his office as Pole was walking the covered Kelly toward the ring.
    â€œCome on, come on,” Mr. Waddow said. “They’re waitin’ on ya.”
    Pole nodded jerkily and guided Kelly down the hall.
    â€œWhere’s the owner?” Mr. Waddow called after them.
    Pole swallowed quickly. “In the audience,” he said.
    Mr. Waddow grunted and, as they walked on, Pole heard the door to the office close. Breath emptied from him.
    â€œI should’ve told ’im,” he muttered.
    â€œI’d o’ killed ya,” Kelly said, his voice muffled under the covering.
    Crowd sounds leaked back into the hall now as they turned a corner. Under the canvas covering, Kelly felt a drop of sweat trickle down his temple.
    â€œListen,” he said, “you’ll have t’towel me off between rounds.”
    â€œBetween what rounds?” Pole asked tensely. “You won’t even last one.”
    â€œShut up.”
    â€œYou think you’re just up against some tough fighter?” Pole asked. “You’re up against a machine! Don’t ya—”
    â€œI said shut up.”
    â€œOh … you dumb—” Pole swallowed. “If I towel ya off, they’ll know,” he said.
    â€œThey ain’t seen a B-two in years,” Kelly broke in. “If anyone asks, tell ’em it’s an oil leak.”
    â€œSure,” said Pole disgustedly. He bit his lips. “Steel, ya’ll never get away with it.”
    The last part of his sentence was drowned out as, suddenly, they were among the crowd, walking down the sloping aisle toward the ring. Kelly held his knees locked and walked a little stiffly. He drew in a long, deep breath and let it out slowly. He’d have to breathe in small gasps and exhalations through his nose while he was in the ring. The people couldn’t see his chest moving or they’d know.
    The heat burdened in around him like a hanging weight. It was like walking along the sloping floor of an ocean of heat and sound. He heard voices drifting past him as he moved.
    â€œYa’ll take ’im home in a box!”
    â€œWell, if it ain’t Rattlin’ Maxo!”
    And the inevitable, “ Scrap iron! ”
    Kelly swallowed dryly, feeling a tight drawing sensation in his loins. Thirsty, he thought. The momentary vision of the bar across from the Kansas City train station crossed his mind. The dim-lit booth, the cool fan breeze on the back of his neck, the icy, sweat-beaded bottle chilling his palm. He swallowed again. He hadn’t allowed himself one drink in the last hour. The less he drank the less he’d sweat, he knew.
    â€œWatch it.”
    He felt Pole’s hand slide in through the opening in the back of the covering, felt the mechanic’s hand grab his arm and check him.
    â€œRing steps,” Pole said out of a corner of his mouth.
    Kelly edged his right foot forward until the shoe tip touched the riser of the bottom step. Then he lifted his foot to the step and started up.
    At the top, Pole’s fingers tightened around his arm again.
    â€œRopes,” Pole said, guardedly.
    It was hard getting through the ropes with the covering