His After The Heartbreak (BL)-Chapter 175: What The Fuck

Chapter 175- What the Actual F**k?

Declan's POV

"She's crashing. Her breathing is failing," The doctor said clearly.

"She needs to be in the ER now. We have to move fast, sir. We can't go past the fifty-minute mark." The doctor repeated it.

Fifty minutes?

My mouth opened to say something—anything—but nothing came out. No words. Just air. My brain was frozen, like it had been unplugged.

My eyes locked on Beatrice. Her body looked smaller than usual. Fragile. Weak.

She was fading right in front of me.

"Sir!" someone shouted, snapping fingers in front of my face.

I blinked hard and turned sharply. The doctor stared at me, clearly annoyed and panicked.

"You zoned out," he said. "We've been talking to you for the past two minutes. You weren't responding."

I shook my head fast, trying to shake the fog away. "I'm here. I'm listening now."

"We need to take her to the ER immediately," he said again, firmer this time.

I nodded quickly. "Then what the hell are we waiting for?! Let's go!"

They didn't need a second push. The oxygen machine was grabbed, wires unplugged, and two nurses from no where came and began pushing the hospital bed with Beatrice on it. I followed them fast, faster than I thought I could move.

We were moving down the hallway—turn after turn. I didn't even know what direction we were going. I just knew we had to keep going.

"How many minutes left?" I asked the surgeon beside me, breathless.

He glanced at his watch. "We've already used five."

"Shit!" I cursed. "Five minutes already?!"

"There's no more room for mistakes," he muttered.

We finally reached the doors of the surgery room—but right before we could enter, a security guard stepped in front of us.

"Excuse me, sir," he said, holding up one hand like he was a traffic light.

I blinked in confusion.

What?

What the hell was this?

"Get out of our way," I snapped. "We're trying to save someone's life."

He didn't move.

He didn't even flinch.

The doctor beside me tried to explain something to him, but the man cut her off. "I'm sorry, sir and ma. I've been instructed not to let anyone through until we finish cleaning up the previous procedure."

I stared at him like he had lost his damn mind.

"Do you even know who I am?" I asked coldly.

Nothing.

His face stayed the same. Just empty professionalism. That's when I knew—he was new. He didn't recognize me. That was the only reason he could dare stand in my way like this.

"We can't delay," the nurse said, panicking now. "She's barely holding on."

"I said I'm sorry. She'll have to wait just a little longer until we're done inside," the guard repeated.

And that was it.

I snapped.

"What the f**k did you just say?"

My voice echoed through the hallway.

"Because what the actual fuck is this?!"

They were blocking me from saving her life.

She was dying—and they were talking about waiting?

I was ready to tear the whole damn hospital down.

I stared at the security guard, unable to believe the nonsense coming out of his mouth.

"Do you realize that this woman right here has less than forty-five minutes to live?" I asked, my voice shaking with anger. "If we don't take her into that ER right now, she's going to die."

He didn't even blink. He just stood there like a wall, cold and unbothered.

"Same thing goes for the patient already in the ER," he said casually. "They're in the middle of surgery. We can't leave them just because your wife or whoever she is is dying. You'll have to wait until the room is free."

I stared at him like he'd grown two heads.

He was serious.

He actually meant every word.

My blood boiled. I clenched my fists and took a slow step forward.

"You're saying you don't care if this woman dies?" I asked again, just to be sure.

He met my eyes and shrugged. "Yes. I don't care. I don't fucking mind if she dies. So if I were you, I'd start planning her funeral now. We're not letting her in until we're done with the first patient."

That was it.

I lost every ounce of control.

I let go of Beatrice's hospital bed, my heart pounding in my ears, and walked straight up to that heartless bastard.

Without warning, I grabbed him by the collar and slammed him hard against the wall.

His head hit the surface with a loud bang, and he let out a groan. But I wasn't done.

Another security guard rushed in, shouting for me to stop. He tried to grab my arm, but I turned and grabbed him instead. I caught him by his tie and punched him square in the face.

Hard.

He dropped to the floor like a sack of potatoes.

The hallway exploded into chaos.

I turned back to the first guard—the one who said Beatrice could die and it wouldn't matter—and punched him so hard I heard a crack.

Maybe it was his nose. Maybe his jaw. I didn't care.

He staggered backward, blood running down his face, and still tried to speak.

"You—can't—"

"Shut the fuck up!" I roared, grabbing him again. "Who the fuck do you think you are?!"

My chest was heaving. My whole body shook. I wasn't even thinking straight anymore.

This wasn't just about a blocked hallway. This was about life—her life. A woman who had done nothing wrong. A woman who followed me and took a bullet because of it. And now this idiot thought he could play God?

"You think this is a game?" I growled, dragging him toward the floor. "You think you can decide who lives and who dies?"

He whimpered, trying to push me off, but I didn't budge.

"You're a fucking security guard, not the goddamn president of the hospital. And today—today—you fucked with the wrong person."

I dropped him like garbage on the cold tile.

"Open that ER door now," I barked. "Or I swear, I'll break down the fucking wall myself."

So because I hadn't been showing my face at the hospital lately, some new guard thought I was just another nobody?

That's what it's come to?

New intakes treating me like trash?

Who the hell gave them that kind of boldness?

Who the fuck gave them that kind of audacity?

I looked down at the bastard lying on the floor. His nose was bleeding. Good. That was the least he deserved.

"You're fired," I said, my voice calm but deadly.

He looked up at me with wide, confused eyes. Like he couldn't believe what he just heard.

Oh, wow. He really thought I was joking?

No. He needed this. He needed to be kicked out so that in the next job he gets—if he ever does—he'll learn never to treat a dying patient like an animal. Or talk to me like he had a choice.

I turned sharply to the surgeon beside me—the only one who actually recognized who I was.

"Who the hell hired that bastard?" I asked him, pointing at the bleeding guard on the ground.

"I—I don't know, sir," he stuttered. "He just showed up last week. I thought he was cleared by Admin."

I clenched my jaw so tight it hurt. "Then that whole Admin team needs to be reviewed."

"Now," I said, cold and straight, "how many minutes do we have left?"

He checked the watch on his wrist and swallowed hard. "Thirty-eight minutes."

My entire body went cold.

Thirty-eight fucking minutes.

My vision darkened for a second. My hands curled into fists, and when I looked down at the bleeding bastard again, something in me snapped.

"You have thirty seconds," I growled. "Thirty fucking seconds to disappear, or so help me God, I'll grab the nearest scalpel and slice your neck open."

His face turned ghostly white.

"I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to—please, sir, forgive me. I didn't know—"

I didn't answer him. I didn't care. He wasn't even human in my eyes anymore.

Then I turned to the second guard—the one who tried to defend him earlier. "You're fired too."

He froze.

"I don't want to see you here after this surgery," I said, pointing a finger in his face. "If I see you here, even standing by a fucking wall, I will personally drag you out."

He slowly got up from the floor, wiping the blood dripping from his mouth. His lips were split.

I turned to the surgeon, my tone shifting—still deadly, but more urgent now.

"Let's go inside the ER. Now."

He hesitated. "But sir... someone is already inside getting treated. The room is not empty."

"I don't give a fuck."

I stepped forward, lowering my voice but making it sharper. "Take Beatrice in. Start the surgery. Right now."

He blinked. "But the other patient—"

"The other patient can wait," I snapped. "I don't care who's inside. I don't care if it's the damn president himself. The only person that needs to be saved tonight is Beatrice. And I'm telling you now—if anything happens to her..."

I didn't finish the sentence. I didn't have to.

He could see it in my eyes.

"The other patient?" I muttered, shaking my head. "They can die for all I care."

I turned around and gripped the side of Beatrice's hospital bed, pushing it myself toward the ER doors.

"If they want to live so badly, they should've build their own hospital."