Page 50 of Razor's Edge
“Well, it looks like Little Miss is done with her nap.” Edge continues laughing.
Standing, I pull my pants up, shaking my head. Coming around the corner, I’m hit with the nastiest smell.
“What the fuck is that?” I gag.
“What are you going on about?” Edge asks as she comes through the door, stopping dead in her tracks.
“Can you not fucking smell that?” I ask with my t-shirt over my nose. Edge looks over at me sharply before busting out laughing.
“You know what? You can handle this. I have complete faith in you.” She laughs as someone knocks on the door.
Edge opens it to find Torch, Vixen, and Smith standing there. She looks over her shoulder at me and then at Starla before grabbing Vixen’s arm and pulling her down the hall.
“Hey, what the fuck are you doing?” Vixen demands.
“Trust me on this, my dear cousin. Let’s go get a snack and let the menfolk deal with this.” My sassy woman laughs.
Torch and Smith give the women an odd look before coming through the door and immediately gag.
“What the fuck, Razor? You hiding a fucking dead body in here? Smith asks, looking around menacingly.
“That fucking smell is Starla,” I say, pointing at my darling daughter, not wanting to step closer than I have to.
“Bullshit. There is no fucking way that smell is your baby,” Torch says, holding his shirt over his face.
“I swear to Christ it is fucking her, and fucking Edge left me to figure this shit out,” I growl, imagining her ass turning red from the spanking she will get.
“Then fucking take care of it. We have shit to fucking do. We came to fucking get you,” Smith says, still eying my baby like she stole his favorite gun.
“What the fuck are we supposed to do? I can’t get near a two-week-old dead body smell,” I hiss.
“I don’t fucking know. Do whatever you fucking have to. We have to get moving.” Smith gags again.
Holding my breath, I slowly make my way over to a bouncing and happy Starla. Reaching down, I pick her up, swallowing back the vomit in my throat when I feel the squishiness around her waist. No. Fuck no. This cannot be happening.
“She shit fucking everywhere! It’s coming from everywhere!” I turn so my brothers can see her back.
“It’s up her back! In her fucking hair! What the fuck did she do?” Torch asks, looking distraught.
“What the hell are we supposed to fucking do?”
“Let’s put her in the shower!” Smith suggests.
“Can you put a baby in the shower?” Torch asks.
Turning, I stare him down like the dumbass he sounds like. “What the fuck do you mean, ‘can she shower?’ You have to give them baths. Fuck, she smells fucking awful.”
“Really, dumbass? I know they can be bathed. What I fucking meant was can you get in the shower with her? Strip her down and clean her up. It’ll help clean her clothes, too,” he says, glaring at me.
“At this fucking point, just trash those clothes and everything else it touched,” Smith whispers, never coming completely through the door.
I stand there looking at Starla kicking, laughing, and waving her fists. How can someone so little and happy smell so fucking bad? I stand watching the color of her sleeper get darker, and her happy little smile turns down as she cries. Damn it to hell, what the fuck is it now?
“Fuck, brother. Get it to-fucking-gether. We have to get moving. It’s time to put the plan into place,” Smith says, still glaring at us.
“Let’s put her in the shower. You hold her while I strip to my boxers.” Turning, I try to hand her to Smith, who jumps back like I’m trying to hand him a grenade.
“Not a chance in fucking hell. You’re just going to have to get in the shower like you are. I will not take Star Bright from you until she no longer smells like something that died two fucking weeks ago,” he says, slowly stepping back from me.
