Page 37 of Certified Pressure 2

The car was quiet, like every sound outside had been swallowed up.

All I could hear was the sound of the tires against the road and Zurie’s soft breathing in the back seat.

She had cried herself to sleep, her little body curled up with her blanket, and for that I was thankful because at least she was resting.

Pressure’s face was unreadable in the dark.

The glow from the dashboard painted his skin in shadows, and his grip on the wheel was tight but calm, like he wasn’t about to let go of control no matter how wild things got.

I kept sneaking looks at him, the weight of embarrassment pressing down heavy on me.

He had walked into my family’s mess without hesitation, without questions, and I felt exposed in a way I couldn’t put into words.

My father’s shouting, my mother’s crying, the broken door, the fight—it was all sitting in the back of my mind like an ugly picture I couldn’t rip up.

My throat burned with the apology I knew I had to say, so I turned my head toward him and let it out soft.

“I’m sorry for all this,” I said, my voice low, like I didn’t even want to hear it myself.

Pressure didn’t take his eyes off the road. “It’s all good.”

I could tell by the way his words fell that he didn’t want to talk about it. And honestly, I didn’t blame him. Some things just took time to sit with. Still, hearing that simple answer gave me a small piece of peace, like he wasn’t holding it against me even if I was holding it against myself.

The rest of the ride passed in silence. By the time we pulled into the hotel lot, Zurie was knocked out completely. Pressure glanced back at her, then at me.

“You want me to carry her in?” he asked.

I hesitated because I was very protective of her, probably too protective. I just couldn’t let her out of my hands, but tonight I was tired, body and spirit. And something in the way he asked, not like he was trying to take control but like he was offering, made me nod and reply, “yeah, okay.”

He got out and opened the back door carefully, leaning down to scoop her up like she was the most fragile thing in the world.

Her head rested on his shoulder, her little braids sliding against his chest, and I watched the way his hand supported her back, how careful he was not to wake her.

It stirred something in me that had nothing to do with just being thankful.

It was attraction, plain and simple, seeing him like this.

I grabbed the bags and followed him inside.

The hotel lobby was quiet, just a man at the desk and the soft echo of our footsteps on the floor.

People looked sometimes when Pressure walked into a place, like they knew he was somebody even if they didn’t know his name, and tonight was no different.

Then, all eyes went right back to Zurie in his arms because he carried her like she was his child.

We checked in fast. Pressure kept Zurie close while I handled the cards, and then we headed up to the room.

By the time we got inside, my arms were aching from all the bags.

I set them down with a sigh while Pressure laid Zurie on one of the beds.

He moved slow, easing her down like the mattress might reject her if he wasn’t gentle enough.

He even pulled the blanket up over her shoulder before slipping into the bathroom without saying a word.

A moment later I heard the water running.

I looked at my phone, and saw it was one in the morning.

We had four, maybe five hours before we’d have to wake up and head to the hospital.

My chest tightened just thinking about it.

Zurie’s surgery was right around the corner, and even though Pressure had done everything to make sure she got the best care, my nerves were still jumping.

When the bathroom door opened, steam rolled out and Pressure walked back into the room.

He hadn’t changed out of his clothes, just splashed water on his face, and the sight of him like that, calm but carrying a storm behind his eyes, left me at a loss for words.

I didn’t know where to start, so I just walked over and sat down beside him on the other bed.

Reaching for his hand felt natural, like something I needed more than he did. I lifted it, pressed a kiss against the back of it, and held it there for a second before whispering, “Thank you for coming.”

His eyes locked on mine, and for a moment I saw the weight in them, the stress he didn’t bother hiding. He looked tired, not in a weak way, but in a way that told me he’d been carrying too much for too long.

“I’m sorry for everything that went down,” I said again, because I couldn’t shake it.

Pressure slid his arm around me and pulled me against him. His voice was low but firm when he answered. “It’s all good. Daddy or not, I wasn’t ‘bout to let no nigga put they hands on you.”

The words sank deep, wrapping around the part of me that had felt unprotected my whole life.

I rubbed the side of his face, tracing along his beard with my fingers, then tugged at it lightly like I needed to prove to myself he was really sitting here.

My lips brushed against his, soft at first, and he kissed me back.

The connection was brief but strong enough to make my body heat up in ways I didn’t want to admit while Zurie was asleep only a few feet away.

“I love you,” I whispered, letting it slip out because holding it in hurt worse.

He didn’t say it back. Instead, he kissed me again, longer this time, then pulled back and said, “Get some sleep.”

It stung. I couldn’t lie to myself about that. But I didn’t push it. All it took was one call and he came for me, no questions asked or hesitation. That counted for something, maybe even more than the words.

Pressure leaned back against the headboard and tugged me with him until my head rested on his chest. He didn’t bother kicking off his shoes.

He just pulled me in close like he wasn’t planning on letting me go.

His heartbeat was steady under my ear, a rhythm that soothed me in ways I hadn’t felt in a long time.

I wanted to ask him questions, to know how he’d been, and if Kashmere and Ka’mari were still at the estate.

But none of it mattered right now, not compared to this.

What mattered was the way his arm tightened around me like he was anchoring me in place, the way his chest rose and fell slow, and the way he made me feel like me and Zurie were finally safe.

So I held him back, tighter than I meant to, letting my eyes close. The exhaustion finally caught up, dragging me under, but for once I didn’t fight it. In that moment, I let myself believe we were in good hands.

Ivory Crest Suites

When my alarm went off, I slowly opened my eyes and realized I was still in Pressure’s arms. His chest rose and fell beneath me, warm and solid, and his arm rested heavy across my back in a way that felt protective more than anything else.

For a second I just laid there, not ready to face the day, letting myself hold on to the small comfort of being wrapped up in him.

Then I tilted my head and saw that he was already awake, scrolling through his phone with one hand while the other rubbed slow circles against my back.

He wasn’t saying much, just quiet and calm, but it was enough to make me feel like I didn’t have to rush.

The weight of what today meant pressed in as soon as I sat up.

Today was officially Zurie’s surgery. That alone carried a fear I didn’t want to give voice to, so I tried to focus on moving around the room instead.

I slipped off the bed, went to the bathroom to brush my teeth, wash my face, and came back out to find Pressure still where I left him, phone in hand, eyes sharp but soft at the same time.

He didn’t ask questions, or push conversation. He just let me go through my motions.

When I finally pulled myself together, I turned my attention to the other bed where Zurie was curled up beneath the blanket. I brushed her hair back from her face and kissed her forehead. “Zurie, it’s time to wake up,” I whispered, rubbing her hand gently.

Her lashes fluttered before her eyes opened slow, adjusting to the light.

She blinked a few times, and then her gaze drifted past me.

When she saw Pressure sitting there on the edge of the other bed, tall and broad with tattoos sliding down his arms, she just stared.

Her little face froze, caught between curiosity and shyness, and for a moment she didn’t even move.

Pressure noticed right away. He leaned forward slightly, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. “Sup, Zurie?” he said in that deep voice of his, turning it light on purpose.

She immediately turned her head into my side like she’d been caught staring.

I laughed softly and squeezed her hand, trying to ease her nerves.

“It’s okay. This is Pressure,” I told her, my voice careful.

“He’s really special to me.” I reached for his hand then, lacing my fingers through his and gripping tight as I said it, because I wanted her to know I meant it.

Zurie peeked back out, her eyes flicking between us. Pressure tilted his head, meeting her shy glance with a smile that didn’t look forced. “You know, you kinda look at me like I’m about to bite,” he teased, his tone gentle instead of rough. “But I promise I’m cool.”

Zurie tried to hold her face straight, but the corner of her mouth betrayed her, twitching up before she caught it. Pressure caught it too and pointed at her softly. “There it go. You got a beautiful smile. Don’t try to hide it from me.”

Her small laugh slipped out, and she covered her mouth with her hand, pretending she didn’t want him to see. Watching her relax even just that little bit made my chest warm. She’d been through so much, so seeing her crack a smile because of him meant more than I could explain.

I glanced at him, and he just gave me that look like it wasn’t anything, but I knew it was.

The way he was with her—gentle, patient, funny without trying too hard—was something I’d never seen before.

He didn’t treat her like she was fragile in a way that made her feel weak, but he also didn’t push too far.

It was like he knew the balance without me even telling him.

“We got some time,” he said after a while, his voice cutting through my thoughts. “I’ll pay for y’all to keep the room for a couple extra days. That way you don’t gotta worry about dragging everything back and forth right now.”

I nodded, feeling thankful, but I still grabbed Zurie’s bag because I knew she’d need it. The hospital said she’d be there for at least three days after surgery, so I packed carefully last night, making sure she had her favorite pajamas and her stuffed bear.

By the time we were ready to head out, Zurie was clinging to me again, her body heavy with nerves.

I bent down to smooth out her sweater, whispering in her ear about how brave she was and how everything was going to be okay.

When I stood back up, Pressure stepped forward and bent down so he was at her level.

“You trust me?” he asked her straight, not in a way that pressured her but like he genuinely wanted her answer.

Zurie looked at me, searching my face first. I gave her a small nod and squeezed her hand. Slowly, she nodded back at him.

“Cool,” he said, holding his arms out. “Let me get you downstairs then. Your sister already got her hands full.”

She hesitated for a second, but then she let go of me and moved into his arms. The way she settled against him shocked me because usually she wasn’t quick to trust anyone, especially men.

But there was something about the way he held her, firm but safe, like nothing in the world could touch her as long as he was there.

Her little arms hooked around his neck, and before long her head rested against his shoulder.

I watched the whole thing with a lump in my throat.

This man who everybody else feared, who carried himself like he didn’t answer to nobody, was walking through a hotel lobby with my little sister in his arms like she was the most precious thing he’d ever touched.

He had one hand wrapped around her back, keeping her close, and with his other hand he reached for mine.

Our fingers locked together as we moved toward the doors, the three of us in step like we’d done it a hundred times before.

The people in the lobby looked our way, but none of that mattered. What mattered was that for once, me and Zurie weren’t walking into the world alone.

When we got to the car, Pressure opened the back door carefully and settled Zurie in the seat, buckling her in himself like it was second nature.

She didn’t protest or squirm but just leaned against the headrest and looked at him with a small, quiet trust that told me she felt it too—that safety, and leadership.

I slid in the passenger side, and Pressure walked around to the driver’s side. The engine came alive, and as he pulled us onto the road, I reached across the seat to brush my hand against Zurie’s. She smiled faintly, still watching him from the corner of her eye.

Today was heavy, no doubt about it. Surgery was nothing to take lightly. But as we drove toward the hospital, I felt something I hadn’t felt in a long time, like maybe we could handle whatever came, because Pressure was right here with us.