Page 3 of Bradford

"Mr. Winchester, get away from the door," Betty tells me nervously.

"Bradford. Mr. Winchester is my father." I smile. "Has anyone ever told you, you look like Betty White?"

"Young man, if I had a dollar for every time someone told me that, I wouldn't be working here."

I chuckle.

"I know what you’re doing, trying to distract me, and I appreciate it." She pauses. "It's not going to work out, though. Florence isn't on shift yet. I don't know why she came in early." Betty rubs her hands together as the name finally registers.

"Florence! She's the hostage?"

Betty nods.

Before she can stop me, I'm out the door and charging down the hallway toward the woman whom I told I wanted to marry.Okay, I'd just met her, and she'd shot me up with some mojo-juice, but still. A man can hope when he sees a pretty little thing.

The hallway is quiet now, but my heart is pounding in my chest as I move quietly toward the epicenter of this shitshow. The two officers have their guns drawn and are pointing at the asshole holding Florence in a chokehold. I can't let him hurt her. The officers are trying to calm the guy down, but I don't think it's working because the guy seems in control of himself and the situation. As I watch, my eyebrows furrow and there is an uneasiness to the whole situation. I can't shake this feeling of fear.

While I'm busy considering my next move, the guy with the gun looks in my direction, his eyes narrowing. "Well, if it isn’t Bradford Winchester," he smirks.

As I move fully into the hallway, I ask, "Do I know you?"

"Nope!" He grins. "But you will."

In a matter of seconds, he flips me off, knocks Florence to the ground, and fires his gun—and then he's gone, and the officers follow him through door. I take a step toward Florence, but land flat on my face. Pain burns through my body, and not just from my shoulder. My side is on fire, too, and I can barely breathe.

"Watch his arm," I hear Florence say.

I feel nauseous from the incredible pain. I'm rolled onto my back and there she is—Florence Night—hovering over me. And she looks terrified. She begins to disappear into a long tunnel until everything goes black.

3

FLORENCE

My hands trembleas I'm pulled out of the way. I have Bradford's blood all over them and my uniform. I pray that he will survive as I watch others work on him. I'm trained for trauma situations, but I've never experienced anything like this before. In that moment, I feel a wave of nausea wash over me. He got shot because of me. Guilt overwhelms me. An arm is wrapped around my shoulders, and I turn to see Betty offering me comfort. I take a deep breath and try to push the guilt away. "He's going to be okay."

"Yes, he is," Betty agrees. "Why don't I make you a cup of tea?"

I don't answer yet allow her to gently steer me toward the staff lounge. I stand in a state of shock as she helps clean me up. I change into a fresh pair of scrubs before sitting down on the couch, feeling grateful for her presence. "He came after me," I say more to myself than to Betty.

She answers, "That's my fault. I mentioned the man had you. Bradford was off like a shot.” She winces. “Too quick for me to catch." Shaking her head, she goes about brewing up a cup of tea. "He might have hit on you last night while on the good stuff, but that man is sweet on you."

My cheeks heat at her words even though my stomach turns at what that poor man is going through. Because of me. I shouldn't have been here. After leaving the hospital last evening, I couldn't stop thinking about Bradford. The man had the most vivid blue eyes I’ve ever seen. He'd been my last patient, as I'd been a few hours late in finishing my shift.

I'd needed to see him, so that’s why I came back to the hospital, and that had nearly gotten him killed. I should have never let my personal feelings interfere with my professional duties, and then maybe Bradford would be safely in his room instead of fighting for his life in the OR.

Sipping at the hot tea, I remember his friend. Bradford had called him Maddy while he'd been having an odd effect from the drugs we'd given him. I'd thought it was a girlfriend. Relief should not have been present in me when I realized Maddy was Madden. His very male friend who had gotten married that day. I place my cup on the table and stand. "I need to call Bradford's friend."

Betty places an arm on my shoulder and gently shoves me back into the chair. "Janice said she would call his father."

I shake my head. "Madden. Bradford kept asking for him last night. I have his number. I'll call him. I think he's still in Vegas with his wife and their friends."

"Of course!" Betty says. "It was on the news last night. He plays on an ice hockey team back in Boston. I'd forgotten about that." She smirks. "If only I were younger." A dreamy look spreads across her face.

"Earth to Betty! I need to make this call."

"Go right ahead. I'll go see what's happening." She straightens and moves from the room as though floating on a cloud.

My stomach turns as I pick up my phone. I don't want to make this call, yet I know I must. Bradford will want his friend here. He did last night.

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