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I shake my head, marveling at her. To go through what she’s gone through and to still be able to hold on to hope—on to herself—it’s simply incredible.
“The strength to do what you’ve done is unreal,” I say. “I can’t even imagine the resilience it would take to not let this destroy you. I’m in awe, Molly. I mean that.”
Even in the dim lighting, I can tell she’s blushing. She looks down at her hands and doesn’t speak for a long moment. She’s obviously not good at receiving compliments. Not that she’s heard all that many over the last few years, I’m sure. I have a feeling, though, she was like that well before her abduction. She doesn’t seem like the sort of woman who goes out of her way seeking praise or glorification. In fact, she seems the type who’d run away from it.
“I don’t think it’s necessarily a matter of strength,” she says softly. “It’s just a matter of not wanting these bastards to win. If they break me, if I let my circumstances beat me down and break me, they win. I lose. And I refuse to lose. That is not an option for me.”
I’m still awed by her. To be honest, in her place, I don’t know that I’d have the strength she does. I don’t know that I would be able to have her attitude and not let my circumstance beat me down and break me.
“I know that eventually, they’re going to wear me down. Eventually, they’re going to break me,” she says, her voice barely more than a whisper. “I’m not saying that to freak you out or make you feel bad. It’s just fact. Even the strongest rock is eventually worn down by the river that flows around it.”
I give her a smile. “Did you read that in a fortune cookie?”
“Nah,” she replies, returning my smile. “A book on Eastern philosophy.”
“Wow. Look at you droppin’ knowledge on me,” I chuckle.
“I read a lot. Always have,” she tells me.
“Still do?”
She nods. “Hogwild brings me books,” she replies. “He’s the only one in this place who’s ever treated me like an actual human being.”
“He seems like a decent guy.”
“I think he is,” she replies. “Except for the fact that I’m getting the idea that he has plans of his own in motion.”
I cock my head and look at her. “What sort of plans?”
“It’s just a guess but I’m thinking he believes he’s going to be replacing Hammerhead sooner, rather than later. And he thinks everything’s going to be the same and nothing’s going to change. Like I come with the president’s patch or something.”
“That’s sick,” I frown. Typical. The one half-decent guy down here still turns out to be a waste.
She nods. “Yeah. It really is.”
“I put the idea that he’d be the club’s new Prez in his head. Hammerhead’s unreliable and I don’t know that he can fix his issues,” I admit. “But I never said anything about you being part of the deal.”
“No, he won’t. He’s too deep into drugs,” she says. “I guarantee you that once you leave here, he’s going straight back on the meth.”
“Yeah, I was a little worried about that. I wanted to put him on stable footing though. I wanted to at least give it my honest best shot,” I tell her. “But I think deep down, I know he’s going to fail. He’s going straight back on the pipe. Still. This is me giving him every opportunity to come correct.”
“I’d like to say there’s a chance he’ll surprise you. But there’s not,” she says.
“No, you’re probably right.”
We lapse into silence for a few moments, both of us staring out into the cold beauty of the desert. There are so many things running through my head that I don’t know where to stop and start sorting them all out. And this is just the tip of the iceberg. I know there is so much more below the surface, and I want to know it all.
“Where is your family?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “I don’t know. It was just me and my parents growing up. We lived in the same house my whole life,” she tells me. “But I don’t know where they are now. I tried calling them once when I stole a phone, but they were gone. The home I grew up in is owned by somebody else now and I have no idea where they went. As far as I know, I’m all alone in the world now.”
“Christ, you’ve had a hard fuckin’ road,” I mutter.
“It hasn’t been easy.”
“You are a remarkable woman, Molly Sanders.”
She shrugs. “I’m just me,” she says. “What about you though? You don’t sound like the typical biker to me.”
