Page 2 of Personal Foul
“Yeah.” She nods. Her chest trembles with the force of her cries, trying to catch her breath.
“Fuck this!” the would-be thief shouts, taking off running down the street, weaving in and out of people. He crashes into one man, nearly forcing him to knock over an older woman passing by him.
“Goddammit,” I say through gritted teeth.
“It’s okay,” a bystander says, holding up her phone. “I called the police and gave them his description.”
“Ms. C, are you okay? I saw what happened and called 9-1-1. Police and an ambulance are on their way.”
A middle-aged man stands over her, clutching a phone in his hand. His eyes are wide, worried. He’s dressed in a button-down shirt, black slacks, and a tie. Judging by his attire and nametag reading “Antonio,” I assume he must work in my new apartment building.
“Thank you, Antonio,” she exhales heavily. “Would you mind?”
Her green eyes stare up at me as she holds out her hand in a non-verbal request to help her stand. My heart stutters while I struggle to catch a breath when I get the chance to look at her.
Her soft, red hair matches the light dusting of freckles that cross over her nose and cover the apples of her cheeks. Her eyes are green, so vibrant they almost would look blue if it wasn’t for the sunlight overhead. I slip her hand in mine, helping her to stand. Pain radiates through my knuckle and up my forearm when I pull her to stand, causing me to wince.
“Oh, God, your hand. It’s all bloody.”
She grimaces, reaching for my hand. The worry cloaking her big doe eyes wraps around my heart, gripping tightly.
How is it her stare alone has me feeling more off-kilter than the altercation a moment ago?
Sirens blaring in the background grow louder as the cops pull up along with an ambulance right behind them.
I then realize we have a crowd forming around us. Bystanders with cell phones aimed at us mumble to themselves as they point at me in recognition.
It all happened so quickly. I spot Jairo doing his best to keep the crowd of people back, not letting them get too close. He glances over his shoulder, his eyes penetrating me as if saying, “What the hell, man?”
The sunglasses I had been wearing earlier were knocked off my face when everything went down, leaving me feeling more exposed.
“Is everything okay here?” the cop asks, approaching us, looking from me to the red-headed beauty now leaning against the side of the building. “We got a call about an assault.”
The redhaired beauty briefly runs down what happened while I clench my hand into a fist, checking out my injury. My head is going to be sore from the jab he got in toward the end, but otherwise, I’ll be fine.
“I’m okay,” she murmurs, adjusting her position to stand. “A few bumps and bruises, but it’s nothing a few bandages won’t fix.”
The cop looks from her, back to my tattered knuckle. “You okay?”
I nod.
“All right, we’ll have the paramedics check you out, and we’ll need to get your statements.”
He glances from her, over to me, then to the crowd of people forming a few feet away, before asking, “We can do this somewhere more private if you prefer?”
“Please,” I sigh, ducking my head back down.
“You got it.”
He turns away from us to the other officers, asking the people to step back and give us some privacy. Antonio offers the woman a wheelchair to sit in while the paramedics check her over and the police take her statement.
She shakes her head, assuring him she’s okay before she peeks over at me. She puts on a brave smile as I offer her my arm, helping her into the building. We separate while I take a minute to talk with the cops, giving the EMTs time to check her over.
“Do you happen to know the man who did this?” the officer asks.
“No, I don’t know anyone here, honestly.”
“You just getting into town?”
