Page 58 of Certified Pressure 3
“Kashmere, please,” I whispered, my voice barely there. “Please don’t shoot. I’m beggin’ you, just listen to me?—”
But she wasn’t listening. Her hands were trembling, and her face twisted up like she was fighting with herself. Tears were still running, but her grip on the gun only got tighter.
“Why him?” she cried out. “Why you? Why’d it have to be you?”
I tried to crawl back, but my body wouldn’t move fast enough. “Kashmere, I swear to God, I never meant for any of this?—”
The sound of the gun cut me off. My body jerked back as the bullet hit me, and for a moment, everything went silent. The world dimmed around the edges, and I felt myself falling, slow and heavy.
All I could see was Pressure’s face beside me, his eyes still open, his blood soaking into the sheets. I wanted to reach for him, but my arm wouldn’t lift. I tried to breathe, but my chest felt tight, like the air just wouldn’t come. Then everything went black.
When I opened my eyes again, I was staring up at the ceiling. My heart was racing and my skin was damp with sweat. I blinked a few times, trying to understand what was happening. I wasn’t in Pressure’s arms anymore. I was in my bed at my aunt and uncle’s house with the blanket halfway off me, and Zurie was sleeping right beside me.
For a second, I couldn’t move. I just laid there, listening to the soft sound of her breathing.
I brought my hand to my chest, feeling the way my heart was still pounding. My mind was spinning, trying to pull the pieces together. Everything had felt so real—the warmth of Pressure’s skin, the sex. the sound of the gunshots, the blood, the pain, even the way I heard Kashmere crying.
Once I realized my ass had been dreaming, I turned my head toward the window and let out a slow sigh, whispering more to myself than anyone else, “Wait… let me rewind this thing back.”
24 Hours Earlier…
While Pressure leaned against somebody else’s car with my lipstick smeared all over his face, I stood in front of him, feeling my chest rise and fall too fast for me to get control of it. My lips were swollen and slick, and I could still taste him when I licked them. The wind was blowing, but all I could feel was him. His scent, his warmth, the way his eyes held mine like he wasn’t ready to let me go yet… all of it had me weak in the knees. It was wild how quiet the world had gotten after that kiss, like everything around us just disappeared. I didn’t know what to say or how to move because every part of me wanted to stay right there in front of him and let him take me wherever he wanted.
He was looking at me like he could read every thought I was trying to hide. His shirt was wrinkled now, and there was a small line of red where my lipstick had smeared across his neck. His chest was still rising hard like mine, and that cologne he wore was stuck to me now, sweet and sharp in a way that made my stomach flip.
Pressure dragged his hand down his face, letting out a breath that sounded heavy, like his thoughts were fighting eachother. He looked down for a second and then back at me. I could see everything in his eyes—want, guilt, confusion and that same love I kept trying to ignore.
I swallowed hard and looked away because if I didn’t, I was gon’ tell him to take me somewhere private so we could finish what we started. The thought alone made my knees weak. I wasn’t supposed to be feeling like this, not with him still belonging to somebody else. But my body wasn’t listening to what my mind knew was wrong.
He finally pushed off the car and nodded toward his rental. “Come on,” he said low, his voice rough and calm at the same time. “Let’s get outta here before somebody really think we crazy.”
I followed him without saying much. We walked side by side through the lot. Every few seconds, our arms brushed, and it was like electricity shooting through me. My whole body was still humming from that kiss.
When we got to the car, he opened my door first and waited for me to get in before going around to his side. Neither one of us said a word when he started the engine. I kept starin’ out the window, watching the streetlights pass like blurs, trying to pretend that kiss didn’t still have me shaking inside.
Pressure glanced at me, his hand resting on the wheel. “You need me to stop by the store before I drop you off?”
I shook my head slow. “No, I’m good.”
He nodded once and kept driving. The car smelled like his cologne and a hint of weed, and that mix had me feeling butterflies. I wanted to say something, anything, but my throat wouldn’t let me. It was like if I opened my mouth, everything I’d been holding in was gon’ spill out.
We rode in silence most of the way. I could feel him thinking, and I could feel myself doing the same. My fingers kept fidgeting with the hem of my dress, and my legs wouldn’t stopshaking. Every few minutes, I’d glance over and catch the way his jaw moved while he drove, and the way his hands looked wrapped around the steering wheel. He looked too good sitting there, like he knew the power he had over me and was fighting not to use it.
By the time he pulled up to my aunt and uncle’s place, my stomach was in knots. He parked out front, cut the engine, and sat there for a minute like he was still trying to gather his thoughts. Then he got out and came around to open my door again. I grabbed my purse and stepped out, my legs feeling weak even though I was tryna keep my composure.
He walked me up to the front door, his footsteps slow beside mine. I stopped when I reached the door and turned around, my back pressed against it. Pressure stood in front of me, just a few inches away, his eyes locking with mine again.
For a few seconds, neither of us moved. We just stood there, breathing each other in. The same energy from earlier came rushing back. His eyes dropped to my lips, and I knew we both were thinking about the same thing, but he didn’t kiss me. He just sighed, shaking his head slow like he couldn’t believe how deep we’d fallen back into this. He looked off to the side for a moment, then back at me, his eyes softer now. I could tell there was a storm going on inside him, and for once, I didn’t even need him to say it. I could feel every word he was holding back.
He took a small step closer, and when his hand came to rest against my stomach, my heart jumped. His palm was warm and firm, and it sent chills all through me. His touch wasn’t rough or sexual. It was protective, and almost tender.
“My mama and them waitin’ on you to show your face,” he said, his eyes still on mine. “You owe that to them, Pluto. No matter what we got goin’ on, they deserve to see you. They gon’ love this baby, and you already know my mama don’t play about shit like that.”
His voice was calm but heavy with meaning, and it almost broke me right there. I nodded, my eyes stinging. “I understand,” I whispered.
He searched my face for a second longer, like he didn’t wanna leave. Then he finally let his hand drop and took a step back. I wanted to stop him, and pull him back toward me, but I knew I couldn’t. This was one of those moments where love wasn’t enough to fix what was broken between us.
“I’ll get up with you,” he said low, his voice trailing off like he didn’t really wanna say goodbye.
