Page 27 of Razor's Edge
“I can understand that. Is there anything that hurts worse than anything else?”
I blink twice. Flyboy runs through a battery of questions before deciding I don’t need to go to the hospital. Thank God because the last thing I want to do is go to the hospital. Before long, I’m too tired to stay awake any longer. Fuck, I’ve got to tell them what’s going on.
“I’m going to give you something for the pain. When she wakes, we’ll go from there,” Flyboy says.
* * *
I’m in and out for days. Eventually, I can open my eyes without wanting to cry in pain and even get my jaw open enough to stick a spoon in my mouth. At some point, they move me into Razor’s room. Surprisingly, his room only smells of him. There is no undertone of a woman’s presence. For Razor to have brought home a new woman with whom he had a baby, you’d think her smell would be all over his room. What the fuck?
I come awake slowly, feeling like I’ve been wrapped in a heating blanket. Shit, why is it so hot in here? I groan as I try to roll over, only stopping halfway due to the solid body and thick arm wrapped around my middle. I take a deep breath, Razor’s heat hitting me like a freight train. Damn, this man smells so good. It’s a mix between man, cologne, motorcycle, and computers.
“Even injured you can’t lay still. I’ve just gotten to bed, so can you be still for all that is holy on this earth?” Razor rumbles sleepily.
Even though he has a woman, I snuggle back into him, taking in his heat, relaxing like I haven’t been able to since the night before he brought home that cunt of woman. It’s just a moment. How bad could this really be? I turn my head snuggling into his arm. My hair falls across my face smelling of blood. Oh, fuck I haven’t showered since the attack. I’ve got to smell like nasty ass.
“Razor, I need a shower.”
“Babe, right now? You need a shower right now?”
“Yes, Razor, right the hell now,” I say more sternly.
“Fucking fine.” Razor sits up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. The tattoos dance across his broad shoulders as he takes a deep breath before turning to me.
“Can you sit?” he asks.
“To be honest, one of the girls has always been here to help me. If you help me, I can make it there on my own,” I tell him softly, embarrassed to need his help.
He nods, reaching under my armpits slowly, sliding me up to sitting. I turn to the edge of the bed, trying to inhale and exhale how Nurse Riley taught me to not put too much stress on my broken ribs. When I finally have the strength to move, I slowly stand. My feet barely touch the floor before being swept into Razor’s massive arms.
“I can walk, you know,” I grumble.
“I know, and if we had six months for you to go to the bathroom and shower, I’d let you, but I need some sleep, and you’ve decided you need a fucking shower.”
“Is everything okay?” I ask, worried. I still haven’t been able to tell them everything that happened. Hopefully, after this shower, I’ll feel more human and can. “Well, thank you. What is your woman going to say about this?”
“The fuck are you talking about? What woman?” Razor asks, looking so fucking confused.
“Starla’s mom. Isn’t she going to be pissed I’m in your bed?”
“Just don’t! Not right now. We’ve got so much to fucking talk about. Right now, though, you have to shower so we can get some fucking sleep,” Razor growls.
We make it into the attached bathroom, where he sets me on my feet near the sink. I stand there with my hand propped on the counter, waiting for him to leave the room. After a couple minutes, I look into the mirror. Every other time I’ve been in here, I’ve avoided the mirror like the fucking plague. Now I’m taken aback by my appearance. There isn’t an inch of my face, neck, and shoulders that doesn’t have a bruise. I can’t hold back the whimper at the sight. How could I be so fucking stupid again?
The growl at my back brings my eyes to the unnatural blues of the man behind me. The thunder clouds rolling through his eyes tell me my back and legs look as bad, if not worse. His eyes meet mine in the mirror, and we stared at each other, waiting and watching.
“The people who did this to you will fucking pay. I’ll ensure none of them are left lurking on the planet. No one touches what’s mine without me hurting them. To harm what’s mine? Well, they will pray to be put to ground when I’m done with them,” Razor says with so much honesty in his eyes that it takes everything I have to keep the wall up and my heart safe.
“What would Star think about you saying that to another woman?” I ask snarkily. It’s not right or fair, but I can’t let him drag me back in.
Razor growls, stepping into my personal space. “There is so much you don’t fucking know. But I promise you this, I don’t give two fucks what that cunt wants or thinks. We are not going to get into that right now. Right now, you are going to brush your teeth, take a fucking shower, and then we are going back to bed for a couple of hours. After that, we’ll handle the outside world.” I go to say something when Razor holds his hand up. “That is what’s going to happen. Do I make myself very fucking clear?”
“Razor, I—”
But he cuts me off again. “No, dammit. Just say yes and get this show on the fucking road.”
“If you’d let me fucking talk. You’d know, one: I don’t have a fucking toothbrush. Two: I need to pee, and three: I can’t step into the shower by myself,” I snap at him.
Razor narrows his eyes at me before opening a drawer, pulling out a brand-new toothbrush, and putting toothpaste on it. He hands it to me before turning the shower on. He leans back on the wall by the shower with his arms crossed. I turn on the sink, wetting the toothbrush before sticking it in my mouth and going to town on my teeth, scrubbing away the fuzzy feeling.
