Page 21 of Love's Cure

She handed it to him. “Stay there. I’m getting out and will come around to your side of the car to see what I can do to help. It looks like you may have shards of glass in your face. Be careful.”

She climbed out and stood a moment, weaving back and forth on unsteady legs. She heard a siren, and a police car drove toward her.

The driver of the truck was standing by the smashed front of it, looking scared. She guessed he wasn’t more than eighteen.

A policeman pulled up next to her and got out, talking on his mic.

“My passenger has been injured. He needs help,” she said.

“Okay. What happened,” he said, walking toward the passenger side of Crystal’s car.

“That teenager hit the side of my car as I was turning. He was driving too fast to stop,” she said, her voice quaking.

“Okay. Let’s see about your passenger.”

She watched helplessly as the policeman struggled to open the battered passenger door. The window was mostly gone, with bits of glass everywhere, including some in Emmett’s face. She realized he must have turned to see what was happening, making his face vulnerable, even with his air bag.

“I think we’d better get you to the hospital,” the policeman told Emmett. “The closest one is Portsmouth Regional Hospital.”

“I’m a doctor,” said Emmett. “I’m going to need some help with my face and my nose.” He turned to Crystal. “How are you?”

“I’m sore from the jolt, but I think I’m fine,” Crystal said. “My seat belt and the air bag saved me.”

“Can someone take us to the hospital?” said Emmett.

“I need to take a report, and that’s going to take time. Can you wait?”

“Yes. I’ll stay seated in the car.” He turned to her.” I think you’d better sit down for the interview. I’m concerned you may have suffered whiplash.”

“I’m going to call AAA. Hopefully, they can tow the car to the closest Toyota dealership where an insurance adjuster can look at it,” said Crystal.

The teen approached. “I’ve got my insurance information here. Can you give me yours?” He looked from Crystal to Emmett and sighed. “I’m sorry. I really am. But you turned awfully fast.”

“I wasn’t the one going too fast,” said Crystal firmly, and the young man gazed down and shuffled his feet.

Crystal glanced at his truck. It had suffered a lot of damage too.

“My Dad is going to kill me,” said the young man, and for a moment, Crystal felt sorry for him.

Then her anger flared. “You were driving too fast on a road where cars constantly enter and leave. What were you thinking?”

He studied her, and Crystal realized his eyes were glassy. Holding back her fury, she decided to leave him to the policeman, who was inspecting his driver’s license.

Crystal patiently went over the report with the policeman. Another officer was writing up a report with the teenager.

A firetruck pulled up beside them, behind the truck.

“What are they doing here?” asked Crystal.

“Just making sure there’s not going to be anything explosive happening with his motor,” the policeman answered. “The front of his truck got smashed. Your car is not in danger of that.”

Traffic had quickly backed up as the road narrowed down to one lane. A policewoman who’d arrived in the second car was directing traffic.

Another police car drove up, along with an EMT truck.

An EMT walked over to them as Emmett stood, holding the handkerchief to his forehead. Chips of glass fell to the ground around him.

“I’m a doctor,” said Emmett. “I think my nose is broken, and I’ve got cuts on my face. The gash on my forehead isn’t deep, just bloody.”

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