He didn’t say anything at first. He stepped a little closer, still watching me like I was something he was tryna figure.
“You coulda asked to talk to me,” he finally said. “Instead of runnin’ off in the middle of the night like you bein’ held hostage or some shit.”
I didn’t say anything. I crossed my arms and kept my eyes on the box.
“Go grab your bag,” he said, his voice dropping a little lower, “and bring it up to the second floor. You sleepin’ in my room tonight.”
That made me turn around quick. “What?”
“I don’t trust yo’ ass not to sneak off again,” he said, already walking past me. “You think I ain’t see how you be watchin’ everything? You the one I gotta keep closest.”
I hesitated, but something in his tone made my feet move. I picked up my suitcase and followed him.
The stairs felt longer than usual. My legs were heavy, but my thoughts were heavier. I couldn’t tell if I was scared, confused, or flattered. Hell, maybe I was all three. The closer I got to his room, the more aware I became that this was Pressure. Not just the rich dude all the girls were thirsty over, or the man with a gold chain that probably cost more than my daddy’s old house used to. This was him, up close, at night, with no witnesses and no safety net.
When he opened the door to his room, it was like stepping into another world. The lights were low, but I could still see everything. Royal blue velvet curtains hung heavy over tall windows, brushing against the marble floors like they were too regal to stay still. The walls were trimmed in gold and deep grey, with hand-carved panels that looked like they belonged in a palace. The bed was massive, high above the floor, dressed in layers of navy sheets and pillows so plush they looked fake. A gold tray sat on a mirrored bar built into the wall, beside a tall sculpture of a black lion with glowing eyes. Everything in the room was so expensive, I was overwhelmed just from looking at it.
“Sit on the bed,” he said, walking over to the bar and grabbing a bottle.
I sat, but moved slow. My thighs were tensed and my hands wouldn’t stop fidgeting.
He picked up a bottle from his bar and glanced at me with that same unreadable look. “You still drink, or you was just tryna look grown the other night?”
I gave a small shrug. “I drink, but it depends on the mood.”
He poured me a glass and brought it over, then sat beside me and started rolling up like it was second nature. When he lit it, the smell hit fast. It was sweet, strong and loud as hell. Just from the smell of the smoke alone, you knew this wasn’t no regular gas. I hadn’t even touched it, but I already felt it working its way through the room. It mags my body relax a little without me meaning to.
I took a sip of the drink and looked around again, still trying to process being in here with him.
Pressure leaned back a little and looked at me. “What’s wrong with your sister?”
I looked down at my lap, twisting the glass between my fingers.
“She has Chiari malformation,” I said. “Her brain pushes down into her spine. It causes seizures, numbness and sometimes she can’t walk right… she’s had it since she was three.”
Pressure nodded, his eyes locked on me.
“She had a bad episode right before I came here,” I added. “That’s why it’s hard for me to just chill and be all smiles. She needs me, and not bein’ able to call, not even knowing if she slept okay… it messes with me.”
“So, if you know you got all that goin’ on, why come here in the first place?” He asked.
The question made my stomach twist a little, because if he knew I was here for money, that shit could change his whole mood toward me. I had to play it cool and keep my tone cool.
“I don’t mind being here,” I said. “Even with everything going on, I thought I could handle it, but if I can’t check on my sister when I need to… then yeah, it makes me wanna go.”
He didn’t say anything right away, just let the words sit between us.
“Where your mom and dad at?” he finally asked.
I looked down at my glass before answering.
“My mama… she’s sick,” I said softly. “She’s been dealing with stuff for a while now, and my daddy ain’t really dependable like that. So it’s just me.”
He didn’t respond to anything I said, but passed the blunt to me instead.
I took a slow pull and let it settle in my chest before exhaling.
The smoke was smooth, but it hit deep. In seconds, it started peeling the tension off me like layers I didn’t even know I had on. My shoulders dropped, and my thoughts slowed down completely. That edge I’d been carrying since I got here started to fade as if it couldn’t stand up to the calm that was taking over my mind and body.
