Read Online 1953 - The Sucker Punch by James Hadley Chase - Free Book Online
Authors: James Hadley Chase
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Oh, Chad, I'm so glad I came with you!"
Oh, Chad!
It had slipped out, but the spectacle of two thugs bashing each ether's brains out hadn't deadened me enough so I didn't hear what she had said.
The third round was the last. Jones's seconds had finally got their instructions hammered into the brown man's skull: don't rush, pick your punch and nail him.
The end came in the second minute of the round: a hard left hook, followed by a right cross. Both punches exploded on Slade's shattered jaw. He gave a blood-chilling little grunt as he went down on hands and knees, his face ghastly with agony.
He tried to drag himself off the canvas, but the effort proved too much for him. He rolled over on his back, still conscious, but finished.
Vestal had jumped to her feet. I had to pull her back or she would have got to the apron of the ring.
"Take it easy," I shouted to her.
She struggled to get away from me, her face turned to the ring, but I held her. She wasn't the only one who was behaving like a sadistic lunatic. The noise was enough to break your eardrums.
And when the count was over and they had dragged Slade to his corner, Vestal collapsed against me. I had to hold on to her or she would have dropped to the floor.
"Get me out of here, Chad," she gasped. "I feel I'm going to faint."
Through the press around the ring, Leggit suddenly appeared.
"Do you want any help, Mr. Winters?" he said.
"I want to get her out of here fast."
"Follow me."
He went ahead, forcing his way as only a cop can force his way. I half-carried, half-walked Vestal along behind him.
He took us to the staff quarters and dressing rooms, away from the mass of people now surging to the exits.
"You wait here," he said. "I'll get your car."
I stood in the dimly lit passage, feeling the hot, stifling air from the arena on my face as I held on to Vestal.
"How are you feeling?" I asked.
"I'm all right. It was the heat and excitement. I've never been so excited. I've never felt that way before."
She raised her face and stared up at me. There was a look in her eyes that jolted me right back on my heels.
I've been around long enough with women to know what that look meant. Right at that moment she wanted me as violently and as badly as any woman has ever wanted any man.
It was there in her eyes, and in the way her face had softened, and in the way the blood hammered in her throat. I could have taken her the way I could have taken any street corner pushover right there in that dimly lit passage if I had wanted to, but believe me that was the last thing on earth I wanted to do.
But the sight of that naked desire shocked me. She was such a wizened, ugly little thing that I hadn't ever thought of her in that way. I couldn't believe she could possibly have those kind of feelings; not her, not this skinny, brittle, bundle of bones. Not only did it seem impossible, it didn't even seem decent.
"Your cop pal has gone for the car," I said, stepping away from her; still holding her arm, but getting distance between us. I looked over my shoulder down the passage as if I were looking for Leggit. I didn't want her to see the disgust on my face.
She pulled away from me.
"I'm all right now." Her voice was hoarse and unsteady. "The heat's awful here."
"Let's go and find him then."
I made a move to take her arm, but she avoided me.
"You have forgotten my winnings. Aren't you going to get them for me?"
"Lefty won't run away. I'll put you in the car first."
"Please get them now!"
There was a strident note in her voice. I looked sharply at her. She turned her head quickly, but not quickly enough. I don't think I have ever seen anyone look so unhappy. Her face was gaunt with despair and misery.
"Oh, please go!" she cried, and her voice sounded as if she were about to burst into tears.
I left her, wondering what the hell it was all about.
It wasn't until I was returning back up the aisle after collecting her winnings that a possible explanation of her misery
Oh, Chad!
It had slipped out, but the spectacle of two thugs bashing each ether's brains out hadn't deadened me enough so I didn't hear what she had said.
The third round was the last. Jones's seconds had finally got their instructions hammered into the brown man's skull: don't rush, pick your punch and nail him.
The end came in the second minute of the round: a hard left hook, followed by a right cross. Both punches exploded on Slade's shattered jaw. He gave a blood-chilling little grunt as he went down on hands and knees, his face ghastly with agony.
He tried to drag himself off the canvas, but the effort proved too much for him. He rolled over on his back, still conscious, but finished.
Vestal had jumped to her feet. I had to pull her back or she would have got to the apron of the ring.
"Take it easy," I shouted to her.
She struggled to get away from me, her face turned to the ring, but I held her. She wasn't the only one who was behaving like a sadistic lunatic. The noise was enough to break your eardrums.
And when the count was over and they had dragged Slade to his corner, Vestal collapsed against me. I had to hold on to her or she would have dropped to the floor.
"Get me out of here, Chad," she gasped. "I feel I'm going to faint."
Through the press around the ring, Leggit suddenly appeared.
"Do you want any help, Mr. Winters?" he said.
"I want to get her out of here fast."
"Follow me."
He went ahead, forcing his way as only a cop can force his way. I half-carried, half-walked Vestal along behind him.
He took us to the staff quarters and dressing rooms, away from the mass of people now surging to the exits.
"You wait here," he said. "I'll get your car."
I stood in the dimly lit passage, feeling the hot, stifling air from the arena on my face as I held on to Vestal.
"How are you feeling?" I asked.
"I'm all right. It was the heat and excitement. I've never been so excited. I've never felt that way before."
She raised her face and stared up at me. There was a look in her eyes that jolted me right back on my heels.
I've been around long enough with women to know what that look meant. Right at that moment she wanted me as violently and as badly as any woman has ever wanted any man.
It was there in her eyes, and in the way her face had softened, and in the way the blood hammered in her throat. I could have taken her the way I could have taken any street corner pushover right there in that dimly lit passage if I had wanted to, but believe me that was the last thing on earth I wanted to do.
But the sight of that naked desire shocked me. She was such a wizened, ugly little thing that I hadn't ever thought of her in that way. I couldn't believe she could possibly have those kind of feelings; not her, not this skinny, brittle, bundle of bones. Not only did it seem impossible, it didn't even seem decent.
"Your cop pal has gone for the car," I said, stepping away from her; still holding her arm, but getting distance between us. I looked over my shoulder down the passage as if I were looking for Leggit. I didn't want her to see the disgust on my face.
She pulled away from me.
"I'm all right now." Her voice was hoarse and unsteady. "The heat's awful here."
"Let's go and find him then."
I made a move to take her arm, but she avoided me.
"You have forgotten my winnings. Aren't you going to get them for me?"
"Lefty won't run away. I'll put you in the car first."
"Please get them now!"
There was a strident note in her voice. I looked sharply at her. She turned her head quickly, but not quickly enough. I don't think I have ever seen anyone look so unhappy. Her face was gaunt with despair and misery.
"Oh, please go!" she cried, and her voice sounded as if she were about to burst into tears.
I left her, wondering what the hell it was all about.
It wasn't until I was returning back up the aisle after collecting her winnings that a possible explanation of her misery
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