Page 53 of Certified Pressure 2
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, shejust 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 fora 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.
St. Mercy General Hospital
We was on the way to the hospital and while Pluto kept her hand planted on my thigh, all I could think about was how last night spun out. I ain’t never picture myself knockin’ no old man out, especially not her pops, but the shit he pulled left me no choice. I had been callin’ Pluto phone over and over, gettin’ no answer, and my gut was already tellin’ me somethin’ wasn’t right. I felt like I knew her, and I knew when she ignored me it was either ‘cause she was pissed at me, or somethin’ was wrong. This time, it felt like somethin’ was wrong.
By the time I pulled up, I could hear the madness through the door—furniture slidin’, voices raised, her scream cuttin’ through like glass. “Get the fuck off me,” she shouted, and that was it. Iain’t think. I just moved. The damn door was already fragile, so I kicked that bitch in, and when it swung open, I saw her pops on her like he ain’t never loved her a day in his life. That wasn’t no father in that moment. That was a man tryna break her. I ain’t have no choice but to yank his ass off. I swung once and dropped him on his back before he could even blink. I ain’t care who he was, he earned that.
Pluto was on the floor, breathin’ hard, hair all over her face, but alive. She looked up at me with them eyes that made me fold every damn time, and I knew I couldn’t leave her to fight this battle alone.
Zurie was laid out in the back seat with her little body under a blanket. She wasn’t sayin’ much, but just starin’ out the window. I caught her reflection in the rearview mirror, and she gave me this look, like she wanted me to tell her she was safe. I nodded at her, and she leaned her head back, trustin’ me more.
Pluto’s hand gripped my thigh tighter the closer we got to the hospital. I could feel her fingers tremblin’ against my skin, even though she was tryna hide it. I slid my hand over hers, lettin’ her know I felt it, and that I was right here.
Truth is, I was exhausted though. I loved her, but lovin’ Pluto came with storms I ain’t see comin’. I had came to her city twice before this, askin’ her to come home with me, beggin’ her even, and each time she turned me down like she ain’t trust what we could be. That shit cut me deep, but I swallowed it, ‘cause as much as it hurt me, I couldn’t let it stop me from protectin’ her and the little one.
