Page 73 of Free to Fall

That wiped the grin off real quick. He leaned forward. “Nas, I ain’t mean for shit to go down like that?—”

“You aimed at my girl,” I cut him off, my voice low but seething. “They said‘Nate sends his regards’right before she almost got a fuckin’ bullet in her head.” That shut him up. “You know what happened after that?” I kept going, words like broken glass in my throat. “She lost the baby. The one she was carrying. Our baby. My kid, your niece or nephew. You killed my fuckin’ child, Nate.”

His mouth opened slightly like he ain’t know what to say. He blinked fast, real fast, then whispered, “She was pregnant?”

“She was,” I said, voice cracking. “We heard the heartbeat that day. Had the fuckin’ ultrasound picture in my hand when I got shot. You know what that feel like, nigga? You know what it’s like to bleed out on the fuckin’ sidewalk, watchin’ the woman you love scream over you while holdin’ your baby’s ultrasound picture?”

He ran a hand down his face. “Damn, Nasseem... I ain’t know. I swear to God, I ain’t know she was pregnant.”

“That’s the problem with you, Nate,” I snapped, leaning into the glass. “You never fuckin’ know. You don’t think. You don’t care. It’s always about what you need, what you want, who you can use.”

He dropped his head. “I was in deep, Nas. After I got out… my old connect, the one from back in Dallas, he was on my head. Told me I owed him for the weight I lost before I got locked up. I ain't have it. I ain’t have shit. Nigga was threatening me, saying he’d kill me if I ain’t get right. Then he had the bright idea of asking you to throw your fight so he could make some money off it. I knew you wasn’t gon’ be wit’ it, but I had to try. I had to get you to see reason, that shit didn’t work. It used to be easier to convince you to do shit like that for me, but nothing I did or said worked. He was pressuring me and I was desperate.”

“So, you thought sending some randoms to rob me was gon’ solve your problem?” I barked. “You thought possibly killing me or Egypt was worth it?”

“I ain’t tell them to shoot nobody,” he said, trying to sound sincere. “They was just supposed to scare you. Get what they needed; that’s it. I never wanted you hurt.”

“You never wanted?” I laughed, bitter. “You wanted me to throw a fight. You tried to guilt me into it. When that ain’t work, you went behind my back and set me up. That was always your fuckin’ problem. You never saw me as your brother. Just your way out.” He was quiet. “I woulda helped you,” I said, softer now. “If you’d come to me real, told me what was up, I woulda paid that debt off for you. No questions and no strings. But you never wanted my help. You wanted control. Just like when we was kids. You always been mad that I ended up bein’ the one who made it out.”

He looked at me, eyes finally watering. “You don’t get it. You was always everybody’s favorite. Mama’s, the block’s. Hell, you even had Creed. Me? I was just the nigga who took the charge.Sat in that cell for eight fuckin’ years while you was out livin’ life. You owe me?—”

“I don’t owe you shit!” I slammed my palm on the glass, making the CO in the corner look our way. “I ain’t tell you to take that charge. You did that shit tryna play martyr, tryna look like a real nigga. But you been rotten inside for years. And now? You get to rot for real.”

He sniffed, silent for just a second before he looked up at me, eyes narrowed. “That’s what you think of me man? After everything we been through, after all my life I spent takin’ care of yo ass? If that’s what you think of me nigga, then what you doin’ here?”

“I came here to tell you this face to face. You ain’t my brother no more. You just some nigga I used to know. I hope you sit in here every day thinkin’ about what you lost. What you killed. My kid, my peace. Your own damn freedom.” I paused, then looked him dead in his watery eyes. “You don’t exist to me anymore. So don’t expect letters. Don’t expect money. Don’t expect a damn thing from me, you hear me? We’re done.”

Then I hung up the phone, stood up, and walked out without another word.

20

EGYPT

The energy in the conference room at the network headquarters felt different today—warmer, quieter. Like everyone was trying to savor something they knew was ending.

Me, Serenity, and Averi sat across from a long wooden table, sunlight pouring in through the floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the studio lot. Our reps were seated alongside the show’s executive producers, writers, and publicists, though the vibe was still professional, there was a hint of melancholy beneath the surface.

“This isn’t just a press run,” said Sandra, one of the lead show runners. Her voice cracked slightly before she cleared her throat. “This is the final bow. The goodbye to something none of us will ever truly forget.”

We nodded, each of us absorbing that in our own way. Serenity crossed her arms gently over her chest, her lips pursed as if she was keeping emotions in check. Averi blinked rapidly, like she might cry, and I just stared ahead, heart full but heavy.

“We want to go big,” said Greg, the head of publicity. “We’ve locked inGood Morning America,Kelly and Mark,Fallon,Kimmel, and we’re waiting on confirmation forThe View.”

“Damn,” Averi whispered with a small smile. “Y’all not playing.”

Sandra chuckled. “No, we’re not. This show changed the game, and the world fell in love with the three of you. We want to give fans the farewell they deserve.”

“And SNL?” Serenity asked. “Is that real?”

Greg smiled. “Lorne confirmed this morning. All three of you will be co-hosting and performing. It’s historic. A farewell toThe Coven—the magic, the sisterhood, the legacy.”

I bit my lip, trying to keep my expression neutral, but inside, I was bubbling with pride.SNL.That wasn’t small. None of it was.

“Are there expectations for skits?” Averi asked, ever the writer-producer now. “Or will that be handled by their writing team?”

“They’ll write around you, but we’ll have input,” said Sonya, who was mine and Averi’s manager. “And your stylists and glam teams will travel with you throughout. We want the chemistry to remain tight. If any of you need extra support, say the word.”

The room grew quiet again, the kind of silence that comes when words feel too small.

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