Page 33 of Razor's Edge
I sigh, bowing my head, unsure if I’m mentally or emotionally ready for this conversation. We need to air it all out. I miss having everyone in my life and seeing all the people I love and care about at the club. So, if hashing this out with him makes it so I can spend more time here, then that is exactly what I will do.
“Let me go to the bathroom, and when I come back, we’ll do it!”
“Yeah, okay,” Razor says, clearly not happy about it.
This time, though, we are doing this on my time. I finally make it to the bathroom, using it, brushing my teeth, and trying to brush my rat’s nest of hair. Fuck, cutting this shit would be better than this. I must huff louder than I thought because, in the next second, Razor is standing there with an excited Starla on his hip, glaring at me.
“I’d fucking do that for you if you would stop being so damn stubborn,” he growls with a raised brow, daring me to argue.
Well, jackass, game on!“Didn’t think yourlovely,”I sneer the word, “woman would appreciate that.”
“Good thing I don’t have a fucking woman. I want only one woman, and she is standing right fuckin’ here. Bring your sexy ass into this bedroom and sit so I can brush your hair and fucking explain,” he demands, stepping back so I can walk past him.
I walk slowly toward him, never dropping eye contact. When I’m within arm’s length, I reach out and take Starla from him, holding her close to my body and snuggling her. As soon as she is close, she takes a big fist full of my hair, trying to eat it in normal baby fashion. I chuckle, leaning my head back enough so she can’t get it to her mouth. Once I’m seated back on the bed, Razor sits in his office chair, facing me.
“You don’t want to eat that, little lady. That’s no good for you!” I say, laughing.
Starla giggles before she makes a face right before whimpering. Razor turns, pulling a water bottle out of the package on the floor before going to the dresser behind him and making a bottle. If that doesn’t make my ovaries explode, I don’t know what would. What is odd to me is he has all this set up for them instead of in the attached room with Star, which is odd.
“So, when are we going to start this conversation?” I ask, unable to wait anymore.
“My first question to you is, will you listen to me before you jump off the deep end and lose your shit?” Razor asks, shaking the bottle he made.
When Starla hears it, she turns excitedly, babbling while reaching for the bottle. Razor grins at her, handing it over to her. I help guide the bottle to her mouth, leaning her back slightly so she can drink. Bringing my legs up, I sit crisscross, settling her better into my lap so I can concentrate on Razor and this conversation.
“How about we start with how I become the fucking sidepiece?” I glare.
“It actually starts before that. Shortly before we pulled you and Vixen out of Hell’s Sacrifice, I reconnected with my little brother. I found him, and when I did, he was in a mess. He had gotten mixed up with Star and the Revera Cartel.”
“Wait, wait, wait—you are telling me you’re fucking around with your brother’s woman?” I interrupt, spooking Starla, who nearly drops her bottle.
“No. I got the call about two days before Duck came home from my brother, who was panicking and needed help. When I got there, I found my fucking brother dead and Star sitting in the corner, holding a screaming Starla. When I asked what happened, she begged for my help, saying the Cartel would be after her because of what my brother had done. At the time, I had no fucking idea what he had gotten into. I made a split-second decision to bring Star and Starla here.” He stops, looking at me for a reaction.
I can only imagine my eyes are so wide they are about to fall out of my head, and my breathing is coming so fast I feel like I’m about to pass out. Why would he do that? Throw away everything we had for complete strangers? A bottle hitting my leg breaks our stare. When my eyes meet Starla’s, I wonder how could I not protect this perfect little girl? I pick Starla up, placing her on my shoulder and burping her while avoiding looking at Razor. Finally feeling brave enough, I look over. The pain on his face and in his eyes reminds me that maybe we didn’t know each other as well as I thought.
“Please tell me the rest,” I whisper.
Razor takes a deep breath and stands before he paces the small room. “I mean, what the fuck is a man supposed to do? I couldn’t leave a woman and a child there, unable to defend themselves. The club wouldn’t just bring them in and protect them without knowing anything about what was going on. I mean, fuck, Edge, I thought I was breaking the trust of my club by even talking to my brother. Only to find out I could have brought my brother here and kept him out of the hands of the Cartel. So, I did what I thought was best at the fucking time. I told her we needed to act like we were together, and Starla was mine. Truth is, I wasn’t fucking thinking. I was just reacting.”
Starla burps and then lays her head over, falling asleep, content with her belly full. I reach my hand out for Razor to come to me. He stops pacing, coming to me and taking my hand, falling to his knees and laying his head on my knee, sighing and relaxing. It eases some of the holes in my heart. I scratch the back of his head, letting him breathe for a moment.
18
Razor
Kneeling on the floor, taking in the touch of my anchor, finally centers and relaxes me. It’s been too fucking long since I felt this grounded—since I wasn’t walking the razor edge of insanity. To finally feel like I can breathe and not be on the verge of snapping. Since I started looking for my brother, I’ve been spinning out of control. I soak in the calmness I only feel with her.
I am done waiting for things to happen. It’s time I fight for what is mine—for this stunningly amazing woman sitting in my bed holding my little girl. That thought settles something in my chest. Starla is my daughter, and I will do whatever it takes to take care of her. To make sure she doesn’t feel an ounce of the pain and struggles we have because, after today, Edge isn’t leaving. She is mine. I just pray she is willing to be the mother Starla deserves.
I lift my head. “Edge, I swear to you—you were never, not for a second, the side woman. I did not put my hands on that woman. She was never mine. Since I talked you through Duck sewing up your back, I have been yours.”
Edge searches my eyes, and I sit and let her look, hoping she will find whatever she is looking for. I don’t know how long we watch each other. I wait, not moving, hardly breathing as if she is an easily spooked wild animal.
“Razor, I allowed my past to control my reactions, and I didn’t give you a chance to explain. The thing is, I doubt you would’ve explained, and she would have made my life a living fucking hell. What’s different? Why aren’t you pretending anymore?”
“I couldn’t keep up the lie. My brothers had to know what I was bringing to their door. I told Prez and my closest brothers what was going on. I knew you would never believe me after everything. So, I didn’t try, and the night you chose that asshole at the club, I knew I’d lost you. Edge, I’ll work every day, all day, to prove how much you mean to me—how much I fucking need you in my life,” I tell her, putting every ounce of what I feel into the words.
“Where is she? Why haven’t I seen her with Starla? I will not compete with her,” Edge says, almost shyly.
