“He held Alfred’s arms, stepped on his toes, pounded his kidneys. Donatelli screamed, “Break loose, push away,” but Alfred’s arms were heavy, his legs glued to the canvas. “What’s wrong with you?” snarled Donatelli. Water gurgled into his mouth as Alfred tried to think of an answer. Six hands moved over his body, the ice bag slapped against the back of his neck. The crowd was booing, but he didn’t care. If you want to see blood, he thought, go punch each other. He felt tired, his brain felt tire...d, his eyes were watering. He threw out his jab mechanically, just stiff enough to keep Barnes away. Once, Barnes tried to duck the jab, and stumbled, his unprotected face bobbing up six inches from Alfred’s right fist. “Nail ’im,” screamed Henry, but Griffin’s twitching body flashed in Alfred’s mind, and he never threw the punch. Barnes clinched and started pounding on his kidneys again. Alfred looked over Barnes’ shoulder at the clock on the far wall. Another thirty seconds.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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