Remember Me (Sequel To Tragic Endings)

21. You Had One Job

Aisha's P.O.V.

Finding myself back inside the studio, I'm back to feeling numb again as I'm sat in a corner of one of the recording rooms upstairs.

Two officers just finished questioning me about what's happened.

I had answered all of their questions honestly, but somewhat robotically, having my mind elsewhere the entire time.

Today was the second time somebody I knew had gotten killed right in front of me, and in a way, because of me. I still remember the day my bodyguard, Rocky, took that bullet for me all those years ago. Now Johnson, once again a bodyguard, he's also dead because of me. Clearly, working as one of my security guards pretty much means a death sentence at this point.

I know who these men are now too, by the way, the police officers explained it to me.

Members of a Cuban drug cartel. I've gathered some more of an explanation now for why my mother had Sienna kidnapped right before she commited suicide, and what she had needed the money she was trying to extort from me and Marshall before. She had apparently apparently been working for those guys as a way of feeding her habit, but she began stealing product from them, and those kind of people don't take this type of a disrespect lightly.

The two men that threatened me are brothers and it's a family business to them. There's five of them in total that run this cartel, the ones that came to see me being the lowest in ranking.

That's what I have been told anyway.

"But you can arrest them now, right? For what they did?" I ask one of the officers that has just finished taking down my statement.

"We will do our best, Miss Knight. But I'm not going to lie to you, it's going to be a bit complicated."

I frown slightly. I can't shake off the numbness I'm feeling, as well as a sort of a cold paralyzing fear deep underneath it. I had never felt so insafe before. And Sienna... Oh My God, my daughter, she was right there when those men...

"What you mean, it's fucking complicated?" Marshall's angry voice interrupts my frantic thoughts as he casually strolls into the room, causing the cops to turn around and glare at him. He mean mugs them right back. It's no secret that there's no love lost between my husband and the officers of the law. "Let me get this straight, yo," Marshall says angrily. "These motherfuckers come here and threaten my wife and kid. They fucking shoot somebody to death in my parking lot, and y'all know exactly who they are and where to find them. Go and arrest them, what's complicated about that?!"

"Mr Mathers," one of the cops says. "I understand your frustration and that you are under a lot of stress, but please mind your language and how you talk to us..."

"Nah, fuck that. Tell me what's so fucking complicated," Marshall repeats himself. "Protect and serve. Ain't it what you motherfuckers supposed to do?!"

The tension in the room could be cut with a knife then as one of the cops, the on that hasn't said a word as of yet, now walks up to Marshall and gets in his face.

"You know, I hate people like you," he states. "Thinking you the big shit just because you are famous. You better curb your temper and control yourself, boy, before we arrest YOU."

"Fuck you gon arrest me for, fuck i do?"

"Okay, let us all just relax," the officer that I guess is supposed to be the good cop in all this says. "Emotions are high right now, but nobody needs to get hurt. I'm sure Mr Mathers didn't mean to threaten the officers of the law such as ourselves. We would be leaving now, but we'll keep in touch in case we fund something out."