Page 33 of The King's Boy

Time to see what I was working with here.

As I opened the bag and started pulling stuff out, I was a bit surprised at the multitude of colors Mrs. Anna had included. There were three different lipsticks, two blushes, three eyeliner sticks, some mascara, and an entire pallet of eye shadow.

Smiling to myself, I got to work.

Twenty minutes later, I turned my head one way and then the other as I looked at myself in the mirror. The colors themselves were a little bland for my taste, but beggars couldn't be choosers. At least I had something on my face.

I stuffed everything back into the bag before carrying it out to the main room and setting it on the breakfast table. As I headed for the door, my eyes went to the massive bed I had spent the night in.

It had been a spectacular night and I wouldn't have minded doing it again. I just didn't want to do it when the one I was doing it with was trying to get one over on me. I wanted mutual pleasure only.

I liked a dominant man just as much as the next guy, but I refused to have someone tell me what to do. I wasn't built to take orders. Someone telling me to do something would usually end with me doing the exact opposite.

I didn't conform well.

I opened the door and headed out like I had every right to be wherever I was. Since I'd been able to see out the bedroom window to the yard beyond, I knew I was on the second floor. I just needed to get to the first floor so I could find the front door.

It took me a couple of turns and backtracking once when I reached a dead end, but I finally found the stairs. I made sure no one was roaming around—I had no idea what King must have told his people or ordered—and then started down the stairs.

Unfortunately, the door flew open just as I reached it and several men rushed inside. I had eyes for only one. The one being carried between Malloy and another man. The one with his eyes closed and his head bobbing down by his chest. The one with blood all over his shirt.

"What happened to King?" I asked as I hurried over to him and started assessing the situation. I needed to know where the blood was coming from.

"Go back to your room, Spencer."

I clenched my jaw as I turned to level a glare at Malloy. "What happened?"

"Get out of the way!" Malloy shouted. "I need to get King laid down so I can call a doctor."

"I am a doctor, you idiot. Now tell me what happened."

"You?" Malloy scoffed. "You can't be over twenty years old. How could you be a doctor?"

This is why I hated people.

"Twenty-one if you want to know and I am a doctor since I graduated from medical school last year."

"You graduated from medical school at twenty years old?"

I huffed as I tried to control the overwhelming need I felt to punch this guy right in the mouth. "Can we discuss this while I try to keep King from dying?"

There didn't seem to be enough blood to make me think King was bleeding out, but there was still enough to worry me. If his wound wasn't treated—and soon—he could still die from blood loss.

Malloy's eyes narrowed. "I need to call a doctor anyway."

I rolled my eyes as I followed along behind Malloy and the other man carrying King. I was surprised that they didn't take King upstairs to his bedroom. Instead, they carried him down the hallway to a room at the back of the house.

I almost jumped for joy when I realized we were in a makeshift infirmary. As they laid King on the exam bed, I went around the room opening drawers and cabinets to see what I was working with.

Okay, it was pretty much the basics, but I could work with that.

I quickly grabbed everything I thought I might need and laid them out on a tray next to the bed before going over to the sink to wash my hands. After pulling on a set of sterile gloves, I walked over to the bed.

I grabbed the scissors and started cutting King's shirt away. "This would go a lot quicker if you told me what happened."

"First tell me what you are doing," Malloy demanded.

Yeah, I was going to punch this guy.