Page 30 of Trading Places

Damn, what does she think? We gonna shoot her or something. I look toward her office, then back at my father.

“Dad, this ain’t the time.”

“Oh, when’s a better time? You getting my youngest daughter involved in the game.”

My mother gasps as if she ain’t never hid bricks for my father. She ain’t Mother Teresa either.

That fucking Kyesha sold me out. Of course she ain’t going to tell the whole story. She got a lot of fucking nerve.

Anthony holds my hand.

I turn to him. “Babe, can you please give us a minute?”

Anthony nods. “Of course.” He stands up and walks out quickly.

My mother walks over to us and stands next to my father. “What did you do, Zariyanna?”

“Look, Kye ain’t telling the whole story. She begged to get involved, so I let her.”

“Did Drey put you up to this?” my dad asks.

My mother’s face scrunches up. “Drey?” Her jaw drops. “What does he have to do with this?”

“Yeah, she’s fucking the nigga. He’s supposed to be taking over, and instead he’s getting in her drawers,” my father says.

“Kye told you this, didn’t she?” That bitch gonna get it when I see her. I ball my fist thinking about it. My whole world is crumbling down around me.

“Doesn’t matter. You are my oldest, so you should know better. This lifestyle ain’t for you. That’s why you need to be with Anthony.”

“Why do you want me to be with him so badly?” I ask, folding my arms.

“He’s good for you and will take care of you. Even will take care of Kye until she’s married.”

I roll my eyes. “This isn’t right.”

“Stay your ass away from Drey and focus on getting married.”

I laugh at him. “No.”

My father laughs and looks at my mother. “She thinks she really got a choice.”

“She doesn’t,” my mother adds.

“Drey gotta die,” my father announces.

I gasp. “No! He ain’t do nothing.”

“I raised his ass up, and this is how he repays me.” My father reaches into his pocket and flicks his long pocket knife. He pulls out his handkerchief and wipes it clean. “You really fucked this up. Look, you marry Anthony, and I’ll let him live.”

“Why are y’all forcing this on me?” I ask, between gritted teeth.

“His family is giving us a very lucrative piece of property. We can retire,” he says, firmly.

I glare at them. “I’m really the retirement plan. Wow.”

“Don’t feel bad; your sister is getting married in five years. We have someone for her, too.”

My stomach turns at them. I always knew it was something strange about how happy they were when I told them we were engaged. I’m trapped.