Revenge of The Furtive Billionaire Heir by Ryker Helios

37. Why people are so judgmental?

I’ve never wanted to strangle someone so badly.

By now the other nurses in the reception are also paying their attention to us, and most of them had

varying expressions on their faces. Some looked pissed off while others looked sympathetic. But none of

them came forward to rectify the nurse who was talking to me.

Her name tag reads Clara.

“Fine, then,” I grow!, “I will pay for everything. Add all the charges to my account. I’ll give you all the

information.”

The nurse’s mouth quirks downwards, and she gives me a distasteful look. For a split second, I wonder.

what I must look like. Somehow, I’d lost my jacket, and the light blue shirt that I wore underneath was

covered with blood and grime. My hands are covered with blood as well, drying in the temperature of the

room. My hair is disheveled from the wind and running my fingers through it. My expression must be

close to insane. I don’t even want to think about the state of my pants and shoes.

I really need to take a shower to even gain a semblance of normalcy and sanity.

But that is no reason for her to judge me the way she is clearly doing. Clara seems to be awfully

judgmental.

“Forgive me, sir,” she says in a tone that does not feel forgivable, “but I have some reservations.

Perhaps. it would be better if we wait for the patient’s parents to arrive before going on further. You do

not seem to be the soundest person to make decisions on behalf of the patient, given your situation.”

“What?”

“You’re clearly shocked. Perhaps you should sit down?”

“No!” I reply, trying my hardest to keep my cool, “I will not be sitting down anytime soon, nurse Clara.

Please put my name down to be charged for Coraline’s hospital bills. It should not be so damn hard.”

“Sir, if you insist on making a scene, I might need to call security. You are not the patient’s family or legal

guardian to make decisions on her behalf.”

“I’m her boss!”

Clara’s eyebrows rise to her scalp, “somehow, I doubt that.”

I see red at that and take a step towards her. I do not mean to attack her, more so to discuss this issue

with her more thoroughly. I will never let myself stoop low enough to beat a woman. But I see a warning

sign go off in her eyes, and she purses her lips before pressing a red colored button on her desk. Then

she talks to the microphone in front of her.

“Security, there is a threatening man at the reception table. Please come and escort him out!”

“What? I was not threatening you! What the hell, I just want to save my friend, let go of me!”

The security guards appear almost out of thin air and clutch me by the arms. They drag me out of the

hospital, even when I try to comply with them. As we near the main entrance, they push me out,

disregarding my previously stated ‘shock”.

What kind of a hospital is this? Was it specifically built to cater douchebags? And to think that I once

thought this was a good, humane organization.

“Well, I’ll fucking show you,” I growl to myself and fish out my phone from my pocket and angrily punch at

number in my contacts, which added about twelve days ago at the insistent of one of my father’s dinner

guests who struck a conversation with throughout the boringly formal affair. After a few rings, the contact

takes the call.

“Hello, Jace! I was expecting to hear from you!” the man on the other end exclaims, “are you finally going

to take me up on the offer to go golfing?”

“Hello, Pat. I’m afraid that will have to wait. See, I have a problem here, and I believe you’re the only

person here capable of solving this.”

“What do you mean, my newest friend?”

“One of my employees wounded up-no pun intended- in your hospital after a goddamned shootout, and

she got a little dispute with her insurance policy, so I asked your lovely reception nurses to put her

charges to my account,” I explain, “but they refused.”

“What? That is absurd, why would they refuse? That’s the normal protocol! Granted we don’t really work

with disputed insurance policies, but as long as there is a payment method, the staff is obliged to have

it.”

“Well, I guess this specific nurse didn’t get the memo then. Look, I’m sorry to disturb you at this time of

the day. But if you can give them a call or something, that’ll be appreciated. When I tried to talk with

them, the nurse asked the security officers to throw me out.” I do feel bad for telling on the nurse Pat, but

she left me no choice.

“This is totally out of line, especially for a nurse in my hospital. I am actually in the building, Jace, and I

will be down there in a moment’s time! We’ll sort this out with my staff and call the to give you an

extensive apology.” Pat sounds downright pissed, and he ends the call immediately.

I take a seat in front of the hospital on a bench and wait. The security guards outside give me threatening

looks, but I ignore them. Then finally one of them makes his toward me.

“Sir,” he tells me. “We do not want any trouble here. You were clearly escorted outside the hospital for a

reason-”

“My friend who is also my employee got shot right in front of me and is in the hospital for surgery. She got

an insurance policy dispute,” I reply without letting the man finish, “and your hospital refuses to let me

pay for her. So, no, I am waiting here until this is solved. I won’t leave my friend like that.”

The security guard tries to say something, but he is cut off by the arrival of Pat.

“Jace, there you are,” Pat makes his way toward me, and the security guard’s jaw hits the floor.

“Director Wright! What are you doing here, sir?”