Page 41 of Triggered By Love
He jumped to his feet and spotted a woman covered with blood writhing on the ground and a screaming child clinging to her.
“Call nine-one-one,” he ordered the bystanders. “Don’t move her.”
Jumping over them, he charged toward the driver’s side of the car. Its airbags had deployed, but the door was open.
“He ran that way.” A bystander pointed down the street.
Jason gave chase, shouting at the perp to stop, but the crowd was slow in getting out of the way, and even though Jason was catching him, he was cut off by a bus.
He lost him, and the only description he had was an average-sized Caucasian man wearing dark slacks and a dark long-sleeved T-shirt.
Chapter Fourteen
The car cameout of nowhere, and the next thing Avery knew, she was face-planted on the sidewalk. The push of air, the crumpling sounds, and the vibration of tires swooshing past her face were jumbled with shouts, screams, and a hard body landing on top of her.
Somehow, she knew it was Jason, not Matt. He didn’t move for a split second or maybe many seconds, she couldn’t tell.
Was he hurt? Shot? Crushed?
She struggled underneath the protective chest and arms, and he lightened his weight, looking her over with perceptive eyes.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
She was too stunned to answer, and she was aware of the screams and cries of people who had been hurt. The car clicked and hissed, its hood halfway into the coffee shop, and broken glass showered the sidewalk.
Several people were covered with blood, and a woman moaned, holding her belly while a child screamed at her side.
“Jason, help them,” Avery shouted, getting up onto her burning hands and knees. She staggered toward the child, but incredibly, Jason leaped over them and ran around the car.
“Call nine-one-one,” Jason shouted, as people got on their phones and others surrounded the hurt woman, debating on what to do.
Avery knelt beside the child, holding her shoulders. “Does anything hurt?”
The little girl shook her head and shied away from her. An older woman took the girl’s hand and shot Avery a dirty look.
She whipped her head around when she heard Matt shouting, “We need a doctor here. Lady, you’re going to be okay. Just relax.”
She got to her feet, stumbling and disoriented. The crowd pressed around the victims, and Alida elbowed her way toward her. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, just scraped up.” Avery patted herself, wincing at the dirt scratched into her elbows.
“We caught all of it on video. That was so close,” Alida said, gaping at her. “You should see your face. No, on second thought, don’t look.”
Whatever happened didn’t stop the film crew from sticking their cameras in her face. One side of her head throbbed, and her cheek felt puffy.
She covered her face with her hands. “Stop filming and help those who are hurt.”
Instead of shutting down the cameras, Alida dragged Matt over and positioned him in front of Avery.
He took both of her hands in his, pulling them from her face, and peered at her as if he were concerned. “I’m so glad you’re okay. I don’t know what I would have done if you’d been hit.”
“You’re hurt.” She blinked at the trickle of blood trailing down his face.
“Cut by flying glass,” he said. “But I got you out of the way in time thanks to my quick reflexes.”
“You did?”
“Yeah, you came so close.” He pressed his hand over the side of her head. It burned on contact, and she winced. Removing his hand, he showed her the smear of blood.
