Page 18 of The King's Boy

I needed to get out of here.

Instead of standing up, I peaked around the edge of the counter and looked through the broken window. I couldn't see anything, but that didn't mean there wasn't someone out there waiting for me to appear.

I needed another exit.

"Is there a bathroom?" I asked as I held up my bleeding hands. "I need to wash up."

The guy instantly paled. "Oh, man, you need an ambulance."

Oh, hell, no.

"It's not that bad," I tried to assure him. "A little antiseptic and a Band-Aid and I'll be as good as new."

"Oh, there's a first aid kit in the employee's locker room. I can go get it for you."

"Just point me in that direction," I said. "You still need to call your boss."

The barista pointed to the hallway behind me.

I hoped there was a backdoor there.

I probably looked ridiculous as I stayed hunched over and scurried toward the hallway as fast as I could get my bent legs move. I didn't care. I didn't want to stand up until I was out of the line of sight of another bullet.

As soon as I reached the hallway, I slid my cell phone into my bag, stood up, and then darted to the employee lounge. Not much in there—a few gray metal lockers, a small table with a couple of chairs, and door to a half bath—so it was easy to spot the red first aid kit attached to the wall.

I pulled it off the wall and set it on the table, pulling the top off. I huffed with disappointment. This was the saddest first aid kit I had ever seen. A couple of rolls of gauze, some medical tape, a tube of antibiotic ointment, and a half-filled box of Band-Aids.

I grabbed it all and then made my way to the bathroom. My hands were shaking, so it took a little longer than I would have liked to rinse my hands, make sure there was no more glass in them, and then wrap them.

Breathing was getting harder with each passing second. I could feel myself starting to go into panic mode. I'd been through a lot of things over the years, but I had never had anyone want to kill me.

I think.

Could be wrong.

It was a tad bit nerve wracking to say the least.

I was used to my life being weird, but I liked it that way. Normal was boring. Having someone targeting me with a gun was a totally different ballgame. I liked the thrill of danger as much as the next guy, but not bullets. Bullets were definitely not on my list of enjoyable things.

After bandaging my hands—white gauze did not match my outfit—I shoved the remaining first aid stuff into my bag and then disposed of my garbage.

As I went to hang the first aid box back on the wall, I paused, and then chuckled to myself. I was in a life-or-death situation here and I was cleaning up my mess.

I was an idiot.

I dumped everything in the garbage before walking out of the bathroom. Now that my wounds were bandaged, I needed to figure a way out of here. There had to be an emergency exit somewhere. They were required. I just had to find it.

I cautiously pulled the door open and peeked out into the hallway. The bathroom door was directly across from me. I could tell. It had one of those male and female figure signs on it.

To the left of me was the hallway back into the coffee shop. That left the solid steel door to my right. I stepped out of the employee lounge and hurried toward the door.

I held my breath as I pushed it open just a bit, hoping one of those stupid alarms wasn't going to go off. When nothing happened, I opened the door a little more and stuck my head out to find a small parking lot.

What the hell? Why have an exit with no exit sign? It would make so much more sense and create a lot less confusion —especially for me—if there was a freaking exit sign over the door.

I quickly made my way to the corner of the building. Before scoping things out around the edge, I took a deep calming breath. If I got out of this, I swear I'd head directly to my aunt's place. No one would find me in Cathlamet, Washington.

They'd be hard pressed to even find the town.