Page 17 of Razor's Edge
“Star is here, and Razor asked me to go,” I blink hard to hold back the tears. Flyboy raises a brow in confusion.
“Umm, okay. Is there something I can help you with then?”
“When you run the blood work, will you be testing for drugs?”
“In a baby that age, we don’t normally. Do you have a reason why we should? Fuck, Edge, we don’t even have drugs at the club.” Flyboy becomes defensive.
“I’m not saying you do, but Flyboy, I’ve spent enough time around high people to know when someone is on drugs. Fuck, Star is so fucking high she could talk with the damn angels. But you do what you want. I'm not part of the club and couldn’t possibly know anything, right?” I’m so fucking mad right now that I’m vibrating.
“Edge, you know that’s not it. It’s just—you haven’t been there. Things aren’t what they seem.”
I don’t let him finish and walk away. I should’ve stayed home. I’ve been living with the hope that it was all a huge nightmare, but nope it is real life. Time I move on.
It’s time I stop letting people tell me what to do.
9
Razor
“Oh, my baby! My sweet, sweet baby. Mama’s here now.”
I still can’t believe she attacked a brother. What was she thinking? I’m going to have to take a beating for her. I finally reach out and run a finger down the only small part of Starla’s arm that doesn’t have something attached. Her skin is so soft and smooth.
“I promise, going forward, I’ll never let anything happen to you. You’ll never be here again. Fight for me, Starla girl, fight for me, and we’ll have so many years together,” I whisper to her.
“Razor, can we talk for a minute?” Flyboy asks from outside the doorway. Torch and Duck stand with him, not looking happy.
I stand, looking around for Edge.The fuck?
“What’s going on, guys?” My eyes search the open area for her.
“I need you to okay us testing Starla’s blood for drugs,” Flyboy says, holding his tablet out to me.
“Drugs?” I ask.
“It was Edge’s idea. She thinks Star is high right now.”
“Razor, is this true?” Torch asks, still looking pissed.
“Torch, I don’t fucking know. I spend as little time with her as possible. I usually give Starla her bottles at night and first thing in the morning. Star or Blue keeps her during the day.” I’m fucking annoyed.
“How would she get the drugs?” Torch growls, getting in my face.
“I don’t fucking know. She’s not supposed to leave the club. So, you tell me.” I hiss back, hoping he’ll hit me to wake me from the nightmare.
“Guys, not the time or place.” Duck pushes his way between us.
I turn to look at Flyboy. “Run whatever test you need to—sickness, drugs, defects. I don’t care what it takes. Find out what’s wrong with my baby.”
I leave and go back into the room with my baby girl. I take a long hard look at Star. She looks rough. Her hair is stringy, like it hasn’t been washed in days. She is so thin that if she pulled her shirt up, you could count every rib. How could I have missed all of this?
Pulling my head out of my ass is starting right now. I pull out my phone, shooting a text to Blue of a list of things Starla and I need if we will be staying here for any length of time. It’s not long after a nurse comes in to move us to the pediatrics floor. Once we’re settled, Starla stirs in her bed. I rush over, putting my finger in her tiny little hand. She instantly tries to bring it to her mouth and gets angry when it encounters the air supply mask.
“Oh, baby girl, you can’t put my finger in your mouth right now. Don’t cry, Star Bright. It’ll be okay,” I whisper, trying to calm her.
“Don’t call her that. Why is she crying? Can they give her something? All she ever does is cry, cry and cry,” Star bitches.
“Why don’t you find a nurse? They should know.” I try to get her to go away for five seconds. If there is one thing I’ve learned over the last few months, when Star is out of the room, Starla calms.
