Protect Her

Chapter One

Cole

"Boy, it sure is slow tonight." One of the new ER interns said, pulling out his phone to check some football scores.

I glared back at him in disbelief. Clearly, he had no idea how things worked around here. You never jinxed it by saying things were quiet, especially on a Friday night. It could go from a slow night to a fucking mad house in seconds, and anybody who had worked in the ER long enough knew better.

His proctor, Ian, had been one of my residents the first few years he was here, and we'd spent enough time together for him to know that I was about to strangle the poor kid. "Max, why don't you make yourself useful and go get us some coffee?" He chuckled.

"On it." He jumped up, eager to please. "Double espresso coming right up. What about you Dr. Bennett?"

"Americano for me. Thanks." I grunted, flipping through a stack of charts on the desk. The kids scurried off.

As if on cue, the registration receptionist dropped fifteen fresh case files into the basket to be picked up. I rolled my eyes at Ian, who just laughed.

"Don't even say it. We're lucky we got a few minutes of peace." Ian grabbed a few and glanced through them. "I'll take the broken arm in Four if you want to take pains in Seven." He arched his eyebrow at me, handing me a file. I had about three hours' worth of reports to catch up on, but as the chief physician, I also had to jump in and support my team.

"Fine. But can you teach your rookie to keep his mouth shut next time?" I chided.

"On it." He smirked. Ian had been my right-hand man since I'd taken over as chief a few years ago. He was good enough to have any position in this hospital, but we made a great team here in the ER and we both knew it.

I took the file from him and headed down the hall. The man's chest pains just turned out to be indigestion, and it was a quick case. Grabbing another folder off of the counter, I headed to the next room.

Before heading inside, I glanced over the details on the page. There weren't many, but most of the time, that was good. Female, twenty-seven, cut on the forehead. It sounded like this one would be pretty straightforward as well.

"Claire?" I asked, pulling the curtain back and entering the room.

"Yes." The woman smiled sweetly.

Wait a second. I knew this woman. Didn't I treat her a few weeks ago? A separated shoulder from a skiing accident—that was it. But her name wasn't Claire. Wasn't it... "Jessica?"

"Uh, no." She gave me a confused look. "My name is Claire."

I pressed my lips into a firm line. I was absolutely positive this was the same woman, but her chart said she'd never been here before and she wasn't using insurance—a detail I remembered that about Jessica, too. Not because it was all that unusual for patients to come in without insurance, but it was for a woman like her.

Whoever she was, she was put together. Not a single hair out of place, or flaw in her makeup, despite the pain she was complaining about. She carried a Bottega Veneta bag and had an enormous rock on her left hand. The thing was at least five carets. A pair of dark Ray-bans held her brown curls at bay. Her nails were perfectly manicured, and she had a very certain air about her. I wasn't usually one to make judgments about my patients, but this woman came from money. A lot of it. So her lack of insurance was a little unusual. Unless, of course, she was leaving it blank on purpose.

"Right." I nodded, it pressing her on it just yet. I wanted a better handle on what exactly was going on here. "So I'm Dr. Bennett. You're here to get that cut checked out?"