Page 32 of Trading Places

“Shit, they’re putting everything on you.”

“Exactly.” She turns to me and chews her bottom lip. “I have to be honest with you.”

“You know you can tell me anything, baby.” I grab her hand.

She takes a breath. “Me and Anthony have an actual arrangement.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Really?” I laugh.

She makes a straight face. “Yes, I can do my thing, and he can do his. The only thing I can’t do is let someone fuck my pussy. Which we broke that rule.”

“Aww, shit. It all makes sense,” I say, piecing everything together. It all makes sense.

“Yeah, but I’m losing you, and I don’t want that,” she cries out.

I lean over the armrest and hug her. “I ain’t going anywhere.”

“Baby… we can’t see each other anymore,” she says, trembling.

“You think I’ma let you go? You fucking crazy. You mine, and I mean that shit.”

She sits back and looks at me. “Dreyson… I can’t let you get hurt. Your mother and Shaneice need you.”

“I know they do, but I need you.”

Zari cries harder, and the shit is breaking my heart.

My OG really wants me dead over his daughter. I can understand where he’s coming from, but at the same time we in too deep. I just can’t stop seeing her.

I rub her back and don’t say shit because what the fuck can I say? Trell don’t play when it comes to going after someone. But I know him. I know who he works with.

“Look, Trell ain’t coming after me. He’ll send someone else to do it, and I’ll kill their asses first.”

She leans back against her seat and wipes her eyes. “I’m trapped. I’m fucking trapped. I had no idea this shit was over some fucking property. I thought it was just about Anthony taking care of me.”

This shit is really crazy on all sides. He’s practically selling his daughter so he can leave the game. How fucked up is that?

My phone rings, and I pull it out. I show her the screen of her father’s name. I send it to voicemail. If he’s calling me, then I already know the shit ain’t good.

“Baby, I gotta go.”

She grabs my arm. “No, please.”

I grab her face and kiss her. “Baby, we’re going to figure this out. I promise.”

“Let’s run away like we said. California or Vegas. We can start over. Leave all this shit behind. Start our own shit.”

“I’ma see you later, Zariyanna.”

* * *

The minute I walk into the club, there’s no music. No bartenders, just Tank standing behind Trell. Trell’s sipping on his usual drink with an orange slice.

“Sup, OG,” I say, walking closer to the table.

Trell belly laughs at me. “Hall, you a sneaky ass nigga,” he says, waving his finger at me.

“Nah, man.”