Page 6 of Certified Pressure 2

Trill-Land, Jungle Estate

I was sitting on the couch in the living room with the phone pressed to my ear, my hand trembling as Uncle Lionel’s voice came through. My eyes were already stinging, and I felt the tears rolling before I could stop them.

“She just… she passed out, Pluto,” he said, his tone heavy. “We was at the park. She was playing one minute and the next she just fell. The ambulance had to come quick.”

My chest squeezed so tight I thought I couldn’t breathe. “But is she going to be okay?” I asked, wiping tears from my face as if that could wipe away the fear that was clawing at me.

“They ran tests at the hospital,” he went on, trying to sound calm for me, but I could hear the shake in his voice. “They got her stable, but the doctor said they need to keep her overnight and watch her. They said with that Chiari thing it ain’t no telling when it’ll flare up like this again.”

I pressed the heel of my hand to my forehead, rocking forward slightly, wishing I could blink and be at Zurie’s side already.

My baby sister was only six years old. She didn’t deserve this.

Every time she smiled, it was like the whole world brightened, and now the thought of her lying in some hospital bed hooked up to machines without me there made my stomach twist with guilt and anger all at once.

“Unc, I can’t stay here,” I whispered. “I’m coming home.”

He hesitated. “You sure you can just up and leave like that?”

“I don’t care what I can or can’t do,” I said, standing up. “That’s my sister.”

I hung up before he could argue, clutching the phone to my chest. My legs felt heavy as I left the living room and climbed the stairs, but my mind was racing.

None of this shit mattered to me anymore.

Not the mansion, the other bitches, the designer clothes filling the closet that Pressure bought me.

None of it. Zurie was more important than all this bullshit, and I wasn’t about to sit around pretending like she wasn’t fighting through something real while I played house in some competition.

In my room, I yanked my suitcase from the corner and started shoving my own clothes inside.

I left the new heels Pressure bought me lined neatly against the wall, and the silk dresses hanging untouched.

They weren’t mine in the first place. If I was leaving, I wasn’t taking anything that reminded me of him.

As I folded one of my worn tees, I caught my reflection in the mirror.

My eyes were swollen and red, but behind all that, I saw how broken I really felt.

Pressure’s ex was back in this house, walking around like she had a deed to it, and like she was too good to breathe the same air as the rest of us.

Ka’mari carried herself with this smug confidence that ate at me, but what hurt worse was how I couldn’t shake what happened between me and Pressure just days ago.

I had given him something I could never get back, and now I was forcing myself to believe it didn’t matter.

I kept telling myself it was just sex—that I initiated.

I told myself that it was just a moment, but the truth was clawing at me.

I loved him. As crazy as it sounded, I really did.

I wanted to believe what we had was different, that the way he looked at me and touched me meant something, but right now, none of that mattered. Zurie mattered.

I zipped the suitcase closed, grabbed the handle, and rolled it toward the door.

My footsteps echoed against the marble as I dragged it down the hall, passing Kashmere and Toni in the lounge.

They looked up, but I didn’t say a word, and neither did they.

Whatever was between us had turned into something ugly and silent.

Kashmere used to be my best friend, and now we couldn’t even exchange a glance without feeling that tension.

I refused to break the quiet though. My mind was already too heavy.

I pressed the elevator button, stepping in when it opened, and my heart thudded harder with every floor it carried me down. The doors slid apart at the foyer, and there was Pressure’s guard standing tall by the entrance. His arms were crossed, and his eyes narrowed as I approached.

“I’m leaving,” I told him, my voice calm but strained. “I need my phone.”

He tilted his head. “Pressure didn’t tell me nothin’ about you leavin’.”

I exhaled sharply, pushing my hair behind my ear. This wasn’t the first time we had gone back and forth. “It doesn’t matter what Pressure knows or don’t know,” I said evenly. “Everything doesn’t revolve around him. My sister’s in the hospital and I need to go home.”

The guard’s expression didn’t change, but he studied me long enough to see the tears sliding down my cheeks. My lips were trembling as I added, “Please. Just call him and tell him I need my phone since you won’t just give it to me.”

After a moment, he finally nodded and pulled out his phone. My stomach churned while he spoke quietly into it. When he ended the call, he said, “He’s coming.”

I wiped at my face again, but the tears wouldn’t stop.

Five minutes later, Pressure appeared. The second his eyes landed on me, a wave of chills ran over my skin.

All the memories from that night—his hands, his voice, the way he held and kissed me…

how good he felt inside me…came rushing back, but I forced myself to stay focused.

“I have to go,” I told him quickly, my voice breaking. “Zurie passed out, and she’s in the hospital. I can’t stay here.”

Pressure’s face was unreadable, but I saw the flicker in his eyes. He already knew how much my sister meant to me. He walked closer, and just having him stand in front of me felt like a storm brewing and calming at the same time.

“I need my phone,” I whispered.

He gestured for me to follow him, and I did. We walked to the lockbox together, and he pulled out my phone. Just as I reached to grab it, he pulled it back, holding it out of reach as his eyes locked with mine. For a long second, neither of us spoke.

Then his voice came low and certain. “I’ll take you on my jet.”

I shook my head, sighing as I wiped at my eyes. “I’d rather be alone, Pressure. This is family. I don’t need you coming with me.”

“I don’t want you to be alone,” he countered, his voice firm but not rough. “I don’t know Zurie, but I care. Let me be there for you.”

I rolled my eyes and looked away, the tears still spilling. “You were about to eliminate me yesterday. Don’t act like I matter now.”

His hand lifted, brushing my cheek as his thumb wiped a tear away. His eyes stayed locked on mine, steady and unwavering. “No, I wasn’t.”

Something in me shifted at those words. It was like the ground I’d been standing on cracked open, and suddenly I wasn’t sure if I could keep convincing myself to walk away. My chest rose and fell, heavy with confusion, fear, and something deeper that scared me even more than leaving did.

For a moment I stood frozen, but then I nodded. “Yeah…take me home.”

He slipped my phone into my hand at last, his fingers lingering against mine, and for the first time all day, I felt the smallest bit of calm. Not because everything was okay, but because I knew I wouldn’t be facing this pain and fear alone.

While waiting for Pressure to come outside, I sat in the backseat of the SUV feeling like my nerves were pulling me in a thousand different directions at once.

My hands stayed balled in my lap, my fingers twisting against each other even though I kept telling myself to stop.

I had no business letting Pressure come with me, not into this part of my life and into the mess that existed outside of the mansion.

But at the same time, there was no denying how much I wanted him there.

I had been carrying too much for too long, fighting battles alone, swallowing pain until it burned me from the inside out.

For once, it felt like maybe I didn’t have to do it by myself, and the thought of Pressure, of all people sitting beside me gave me a strange kind of comfort that I wasn’t sure I deserved.

The driver glanced at me in the rearview mirror once or twice, probably noticing how restless I looked, but I kept my eyes fixed on the door of the mansion.

Every second felt longer than it should, stretching out like he was never going to come.

I told myself that I could still call this off.

I could tell him I changed my mind, that I didn’t need him riding into my personal life, seeing things I tried so hard to keep buried.

But then I thought about Zurie, and how fragile everything felt, and I knew I couldn’t turn him away.

Finally, the heavy doors opened, and there he was.

Pressure stepped out carrying a small black bag, and just the sight of him hit me harder than I expected.

His walk had that same calm arrogance, like nothing in the world could move him unless he wanted it to.

He didn’t rush toward the SUV; he moved like he owned every step, and my chest tightened at how sure of himself he was.

The driver jumped out to open the door for him, but Pressure waved him off and pulled it open himself.

When he slid inside beside me, the first thing that hit me was the warmth of his cologne.

It was sharp but smooth, expensive but not loud, and it wrapped around me before I could even breathe.

Something about it made my body relax against the seat without me realizing it, and the more I tried to fight the urge, the more I found myself leaning into him.

Pressure glanced at me, and I caught the corner of his mouth twitch like he noticed, but he didn’t say a word.

He just scooted closer until his leg brushed mine, and then his arm came around my shoulder.

It wasn’t even forceful. It was natural, like that space was always meant for him to take up.

The weight of his arm alone settled me in a way nothing else could, and I let myself sink against him even though my mind screamed that I shouldn’t.

We didn’t talk. There were no promises whispered, no questions asked, and no explanations demanded.

The silence inside the SUV was filled with everything we weren’t saying, all the tension and all the comfort rolled into one.

The driver pulled off, and the mansion disappeared behind us as the city lights began to rise in front of us.

I wanted to ask him why he even cared, why he was really coming with me, but I couldn’t bring myself to ruin the quiet moment.

It was enough that he was here, sitting with me, holding me like I mattered more than the women back at that mansion.

As the SUV rolled through the streets, I watched the buildings change from luxury storefronts to older brick shops, from bright lights to the dim glow of neighborhoods.

I was so close to home that my stomach turned over, but Pressure’s hand on my shoulder kept me calm.

Every time the driver slowed at a light, I could feel Pressure’s thumb rubbing over the side of my arm without him even realizing it, and the small motion was grounding in a way I couldn’t explain.

When we reached the private strip where his jet was waiting, my heart jumped.

I wasn’t used to this kind of life—the kind where someone could just pack a small bag and take to the skies whenever they felt like it.

But with Pressure, it didn’t even feel like showing off.

It felt like he wanted to make sure I had the quickest way back to my sister.

The SUV rolled to a stop beside the steps leading up to the jet, and the driver came around to open the door.

Pressure didn’t move until I did, and when I slid out first, he was right behind me, his hand at the small of my back guiding me forward.

I didn’t say anything about it, but that small gesture made my chest feel heavy in a different way, like he wasn’t just here to watch me fall apart but to hold me together while I did it.

Inside the jet, the leather seats stretched in perfect rows, soft lighting glowing above them.

I expected him to take a seat across from me, give me space, maybe let me keep my thoughts to myself for the ride.

But when I sat down near the window, Pressure slid in right beside me like there was never another option.

His arm draped across the top of the seat until it came down around me again, and I didn’t fight it.

I turned my face toward the window, needing something else to focus on, but then I felt him lower his lips to the top of my head. The kiss wasn’t long or dramatic; it was light, almost careless, but it left a warmth behind that spread down my spine.

The jet lifted, and I stayed quiet, staring out as the ground slipped away and the clouds swallowed us whole.

My nerves were still there, twisting and pressing against my chest, but the more I leaned into Pressure, the safer I felt.

It was strange to feel so protected in the middle of my world falling apart, but that was what Pressure brought with him.

He was masculine in a way that wasn’t forced, protective without saying a word, and smooth enough to make me forget for a moment how scared I was.

He didn’t push me to talk, and he didn’t ask me how I was holding up.

He just held me, his presence heavy and warm beside me, his cologne mixing with the faint scent of smoke that clung to him.

The hum of the jet filled the silence, and for once, silence didn’t feel like loneliness. It felt like peace.

As I looked out at the endless sky, I realized that no matter what waited for me at home, I wasn’t walking into it by myself anymore.

Pressure was right there, close enough that I could feel his chest rise and fall, close enough that the fear I carried didn’t feel unbearable.

I had no idea what it meant for us, or if letting him this close would end up breaking me in the end.

But in this moment, with the clouds stretching wide outside the window and his arm wrapped around me, I didn’t care.

For the first time in a long time, I let myself believe that everything would be fine.