Wickman •Nardo Wick•

31.

A/n: I remembered half way into this chapter that she had lost her memory and had to start over😭 and I'm sick with a sinus infection🤦🏾‍♀️ I swear I thought sinus infections only happened to old people 😭

But tap in if you missed me🫶🏽, cuz I missed y'all,

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The hardest part about being handcuffed

Is knowing that you can't get out of them.

"On the ground now!"

And no matter how much you tug and pull

You'll never be free.

"Nardo!"

And they take you away

Like you belong to them

And you do.

"Baby, calm down."

Because they own us.

The government owns us.

"Get off of him! Get off of me!"

"Nina, stop resisting."

"Let me go!"

————

"Alexandra Jazmyn Gaulden," the officer says, sitting across from me. I stay silent. "Is that your name?"

Apparently. That's what you've said the moment I walked in here.

"You're not gonna speak?"

I look down at my feet.

I may not remember much, but I remember never to say anything to the police. I know better than to say what I've seen. To say what I've done. I'll serve time, I don't know how many people I've killed but I'm not risking it. Nardo could do the same and stay stuff about me. But I trust that he's smart enough not to. If we've been together for that long, there's some kind of loyalty owed there.

He killed a man in front of me. I'm sure he trusts me somehow. Even if I don't know why. Even if I don't know him. He'll kill me.

"How long have you known Horace? Or Nardo as you call him."

The tiles on the floor are uneven. They need to fix that.

"When was the last time you spoke to your mother?"

I don't know. Didn't even know if she was still alive.

"Alexandra? What does your name mean?"

It means get the hell out of my face. Please and thank you.

"Did he hurt you?"

I glance up at him, to see where he was looking. He looks me in my eyes.

"What did he do?"

Something flickers in my head.

A store. A Twix bar on the floor. Feet in front of me.

"Where did you meet Horace?"

A loud voice quakes. People scream. A hand covers my mouth.

"Are you his girlfriend?"

I hear gunshots. My body tenses. I look around me and see two bodies on the ground. Bleeding. And two people walk away but I only see their feet. I look behind me. And he's there. Nardo is right there.

"What are you thinking about?"

Nardo.

"The doctor said you may have amnesia. What do you remember?"

A laugh. A smile. Arms wrapped around me under the blankets. A body- a naked body against mine. I look back. And he's there. Nardo is right there.

"How do you feel?"

Another gunshot. But this time, the gun is in my hands. I cry out but someone grabs my hand. I look up and it's Nardo. Again.

"You're not gonna answer, are you?"

Tears roll down my cheeks as I hear voices in the distance. I feel it in my chest like somebody died. A hand goes on my back. It's nardo. Again.

I rest my head on the table. It begins to hurt. My memories are coming back and all of them are painful. Days worth of pain hurts so badly. I've really been through some shit. And the one common denominator. Is Nardo. He's always there. Always by my side. He must really be a ride or die.

And I cannot tell.

I refuse to snitch.

Because my life and the life of my mother is at hand. And of my child. My baby. I have nothing.

I'm not Tekashi.

"Tell me what you know."

"I want to see him," I say bluntly.

"See who?"

"I said I want to see him," I respond, placing my hands back on the table.

"You brainwashed little girl," the officer says, scratching his little bald head. "I'm trying to save you. That guy, he's been wanted for more murders than we know of. And somehow you're in the middle of all this. Tell me what you know and get out of this, I can guarantee he will not harm you."

He comes closer to me and places his hand in mine.

"But if you do not, you'll both do time."

"With what proof," I scuff, pulling my hand away from his.

"Is there any," he looks at me. Shit. I should've kept my mouth shut. "I'm detective Morgan, I work for the FBI. I want you out of whatever is going on. You seem like the sweetest girl."

I just stare at him, not knowing what else to say.

"Grew up in church, allergic to crawfish but from Louisiana? How that work," he says with a chuckle.

I wouldn't know. I don't remember that much about my past.

"Oh right, amnesia," he says, placing files down in front of me. "Do you know this man?"

He shows me a picture of a darkskin man, dead on the road.

I hate to say it, and I hope I don't sound ridiculous. I don't know who this man is. He could be walking down the street and I wouldn't know a thing. Sorry to this man.

He probably had a family and everything. He was somebody's son.  I hope I never have to go through what his mama is going through right now.

"You do," he says, turning the page. "By the way you didn't flinch."

I shake my head. Anything I say will be used against me. Used against nardo. I'm not risking any of that.

"What about him?"

It's a picture of Chris.

I nod my head.

"How?"

"Came pick me up from the hospital, Nardo got me and we left him," I lie, hoping it will save us.

That blood.

"And where did you leave him?"

I remain quiet. We left him dead in the middle of the street.

"Sweetie, I'm not gonna hurt you," he whispers to me. "But Horace? Look at all these people. These are the people that he's been accused of killing. Do you really want to be with someone like this?"

I look at the pictures. Hundreds of tiny pictures of boys and girls of all ages. Of all races. He did that?

"He killed all of these people, Alex," he tells me. "Families want justice, don't they deserve it? Their babies have been taken from them. How would you feel if that was your son?"

I look at him.

He looks at me.

"I want to see him."