His After The Heartbreak (BL)-Chapter 173: She is Safe With Me

Chapter 173 – She's Safe With Me

Declan's POV

I brought her back to the car, walked past the front seat and opened the back door again.

It was cleaner now. Not perfect, but clean enough.

With steady hands, I placed her back down on the seat, laying her gently.

I kept glancing down at her chest every few seconds just to be sure—just to confirm she was still breathing.

She was.

Still weak. Still too slow. But she was breathing, and that was enough for now.

I made sure her head was resting comfortably and reached over to pull the seat belt across her chest—not too tight, just enough to keep her from falling if I hit a bump.

She didn't even flinch. Still out warm.

I closed the door and rushed around to the driver's side. Slid into the seat, turned the key, and the engine roared to life. Without wasting another second, I slammed my foot on the gas and took off, heading straight toward the hospital.

The ride was silent.

Completely silent.

Of course it was. Beatrice was the only one who could've talked—and she wasn't talking anytime soon.

I gripped the steering wheel harder, knuckles white. The silence was creeping into my head, into my bones. Maybe I should've turned on the radio... but I didn't. I just stared ahead and kept driving.

But halfway there, it hit me.

I was going to walk into that hospital carrying a half-dead woman, covered in blood, shirtless... and I was going to get questioned.

Worse—arrested.

I could already hear the dumbass questions:

"What happened to her?"

"Why is she bleeding?"

"Why are you covered in blood?"

"Why does the bullet look like it came from your gun?"

No. Fuck no.

I didn't go through all this chaos just to end up behind bars, trying to explain myself to idiots who don't know a thing.

So I did what I had to do.

I turned the wheel sharply and took another road—one that led to the place I trusted more than any other.

My own damn hospital.

My private one. The one where nobody asks me stupid questions. The one where people know better than to waste my time.

I pressed harder on the gas. The speedometer was flying, but the car still felt slow. So damn slow.

"Come on, move!" I muttered under my breath, slamming my hand on the wheel.

It felt like the faster I tried to go, the slower the car moved. Like time was dragging its feet on purpose just to piss me off.

So I forced myself to stop thinking. No more speed. No more time. I just focused on the road. One turn after the other.

Then finally—finally—I saw the gates of my hospital.

The security guys recognized my car in seconds. Before I even reached the gate, it was already sliding open. I didn't slow down. Just drove right in.

The moment I parked, I threw the door open and jumped out, rushing straight to the backseat.

She was still breathing. frёeωebɳovel.com

Barely.

Her chest rose and fell like a dying flame. Her skin was pale, her lips almost white, but that thread of life was still there.

I opened the back door and bent down. Carefully, I slid my arms under her again and lifted her up in a bridal carry. She didn't make a sound. Didn't move.

Motionless, but alive.

I held her close to my chest and turned toward the entrance. A team of nurses had already rushed out with a stretcher, all wide-eyed and panicking.

"Sir, just lay her on the—"

"No," I cut them off sharply.

"I've got her," I said, my voice low but firm. "She stays in my arms. She's safer with me."

They hesitated. Then nodded and stepped back, rolling the bed out of the way like I ordered.

I didn't trust anyone else with her. Not yet. Not after everything that just happened.

"I said she's safe with me," I repeated as I walked through the doors.

And I meant every single word.

I didn't waste time.

The moment the doors opened, I carried Beatrice inside the hospital with long, fast steps. My arms were aching, but I wasn't stopping.

Her life is more important than any hand ache I'm feeling now.

I just need to do this so that they would be more aggression for me to transfer on those fucking betrayers.

A few nurses rushed behind me, trying to catch up, trying to ask questions—but I didn't answer anyone. I headed straight to the emergency room, my heart thumping like it was about to explode.

I stopped in my tracks and turned around. People were already gathering behind me. Doctors, nurses, staff. All of them staring at me with wide, shocked eyes.

I didn't blame them.

It was the first time I ever showed up to the hospital like this—with someone bleeding in my arms, shirtless, looking like a madman. I wasn't calm. I wasn't my usual self. I knew they were confused.

Hell, I was confused too.

My voice cracked through the quiet hallway.

"Where is the fucking doctor?!"

I was losing it. I could feel my blood rising like a damn volcano.

"Get me a doctor before I lose my fucking mind right now!" I shouted again, louder this time.

In seconds, doctors began pouring in from every direction—running, jogging, walking fast—trying to show their faces, trying to get noticed, trying to help.

But I didn't want just anyone.

"I don't want all of you," I snapped, glaring at them. "I don't want the ones here to impress me or win favor. I want the best. The most experienced. Only one person touches her. One."

The crowd froze. Everyone just stood there like statues, unsure of what to do. Then slowly, they started backing away. All except two.

Only two doctors kept walking toward me.

Halfway there, one of them paused and stepped back.

Only one was left.

I locked eyes with him. He wasn't scared—but he wasn't fast enough either.

"Your legs are there for a reason," I growled. "Use them. Or I'll come get you myself."

That did it.

The guy broke into a run. Good.

When he reached me, he nodded and turned, leading the way fast. I followed right behind him, still carrying Beatrice like she weighed nothing. The halls blurred around me as I walked, not seeing anything else—just focused on her.

We got to the ward.

He opened the door, and I placed her gently on the bed. Her breathing was still slow. Her skin looked drained. Her lips had gone dry.

I stood by her side as the doctor quickly put on gloves and moved to examine her.

I didn't say anything else.

I just stood there, watching her. Watching him.

Waiting.

Waiting for him to tell me something—anything—that would let me know she was going to be okay.

Because right now?

She looked like the rest of the unlucky ones.

The ones who got shot and didn't make it.

And I was praying like hell she wasn't going to be one of them.

"Do well not to let her die because I'm going to be sure to pay you back by killing you."