Page 3 of Breaking Bristol

His eyes narrowed. “If you don’t have medical insurance, there are programs to help.”

“I have the money.”

“Okay. Then what’s the problem?”

“Who are you?” I asked, realizing I was talking to a stranger who could tell me whatever the hell he thought I wanted to hear.

“Like I said, I’m Dr. B. One of the ER docs here.”

I glanced at his running shorts and T-shirt. “You don’t look like a doctor.”

“Only have about eight hours until my next shift, so I’m getting a run in before I crash for a little bit.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out an ID. His hand came toward me, and I leaned away. “Don’t want to hurt you, just want to help.”

I barely glanced at the badge because just by showing it to me, he convinced me he was really a doctor. I sighed. “I just want to pay for stitches. I don’t want my name in whatever program the hospital uses.”

“If I ask you why not, will you tell me?”

“No,” I said.

“Can I guess?”

I bit my lip. “Sure.”

His finger tapped his chin, and his eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “Fugitive on the run?”

“Nope.”

He arched an eyebrow. “Escaped prisoner?”

“Isn’t that the same thing as a fugitive on the run?”

“Good point.”

Even though I didn’t want to, I smiled. “Well, in any case, I haven’t broken any laws.”

“Runaway bride?”

“Hell no.” I had a feeling the look on my face said more than my response.

He nodded at my hand. “Let me take a look,” he commanded softly and reached over.

When I pulled the dish towel off, I bit my tongue because the blood was starting to dry and it hurt like hell as it peeled off.

He studied the cut, took hold of my wrist and turned it to get a better angle. “All right, put the towel back on. Tell you what, Bristol. Why don’t you come with me, and I’ll get you in a room and stitch you up.”

“I can’t—”

“I won’t ask any more questions. We’ll go in the side, and I’ll have you out the door in about twenty minutes.”

“Why?”

Wrinkles formed around his eyes, and he dipped his chin. “I took an oath to help people, and you need help.”

“Can’t you get in trouble?”

“Only if someone finds out.”

“Just stitches?” I reiterated.

---