“Pluto…” I said louder.
She still ain’t hear me.
I grabbed her wrist.
“Pluto, bitch, look around,” I hissed.
“What?” she asked, confused but smilin’.
“Pluto,” I repeated, my voice gettin’ tight. “Pressure is in the fuckin’ lounge, bitch.”
Her whole face dropped like somebody unplugged her soul.
“WHAT?” she whisper-yelled, her eyes wide as hell.
“Bitch, yes.” I leaned closer. “He walkin’ around like he the police lookin’ for witnesses.”
Pluto spun her head so fast I thought she was gon’ sprain her damn neck. She looked left, right, up, down, tryna see through the crowd.
And then she saw him.
It was Pressure’s crazy ass…
In a hoodie…
In a rage…
Pacin’ through the lounge like a hood version of the grim reaper.
Pluto covered her mouth. “Oh my God.”
“Oh my God is right,” I said, my stomach droppin’. “If Pressure here… then KAY’LO is probably?—”
Before I could finish the sentence, Pressure cut through the crowd like the Red Sea was partin’ for him. His eyes locked on Pluto first, then me, and the way his jaw clenched let me know he was two seconds away from flippin’ tables.
He pointed straight at us and shouted over the music:
“PLUTO! Your kids is in the fuckin’ truck!”
The entire section went quiet.
Pluto’s mouth fell open. “You did NOT bring my babies out this late.”
Pressure blinked slow, that signature irritated blink. “Yes the fuck I did. Since you so busy, apparently. Too busy to answer yo’ damn phone. Too busy to ask how yo’ kids was doin’. Too busy to tell me you was in a damn club actin’ like you single.”
Pluto looked like she wanted to fight him and cry at the same time. “Are you insane? Why would you drag my babies out?—”
Pressure talked right over her. “Nah don’t even start. Get ya shit. Get up. Let’s go.”
The way people started movin’ away from our section told me they felt the danger in the air too.
Because mad Pressure?
Yeah… that wasn’t somebody you wanted to share oxygen with.
Pluto tried to argue, but he threw his hand up, pointin’ toward the door. “Pluto Mensah, don’t make me come get you. Toni, bring yo’ ass on too.”
“Oh, hell no,” she muttered, grabbin’ her purse and stompin’ ahead of him.
