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“Fine. Why don’t you know where she is?”
“Because I sold her. To a trafficker I know,” he says simply. “And who knows? He may have already used her and sold her.”
The rage in me boils over and I stare at him with murder in my eyes. I don’t want to believe this. I don’t want to believe him. He’s doing this to torture and torment me. That’s what Hammerhead does. This has to be that.
“You’re lying,” I say.
“‘Fraid not,” he counters, shaking his head. “I knew the best way to hurt you, to really, really hurt you, wasn’t to kill you. It was to make sure I could fuck with your head forever. And to that end, I realized how much that bitch meant to you. So, what better way to torment your soul until the day you die by knowing that the love of your life, the mother of your children, is somewhere out there having horrible things done to her—worse things than even I did to her—and that there’s nothing you can do about it. Absolutely nothing.”
I listen to him, wanting to deny his words. But I hear the ring of sincerity. Of truth. And the cold dread of certainty that he did exactly what he’s saying he did settles down over me. It presses down on me so hard, I can barely breathe.
“Please tell me you’re lying,” I whisper, even though I know he’s not.
“You wish I was.”
I glare at him and all I can see is red. The hatred and rage flow through me, sending currents of electricity to my every nerve ending and I feel myself trembling with my anger.
“You know I’m going to kill you, don’t you?” I hiss.
“I’m all right with it ‘cause I’m terminal anyway. Cancer. Ain’t that a bitch?” he says. “But I’m at least going to go to my grave knowing that you’ll be tearing yourself apart from now until the day you die, wondering how many guys are running a train on her in that moment. Wondering how many blowjobs she’s being forced to give. You’re going to drive yourself crazy wondering what sort of degradations she’s being forced to endure. Again. I can promise you that the things she’s going through right now are so much worse than what she went through here. By far. I mean, for one thing, I didn’t pass her around to my friends.”
I walk over to him, my blood boiling, the rage in me bubbling over. He closes his eyes as I approach and squeeze the trigger. The shot sounds like a cannon going off. It’s deafening. Hammerhead’s head snaps back and the back of his skull explodes outward, sending a grisly spray of blood and brain matter all over the floor behind it. Hammerhead is leaned back in his chair, his eyes open wide, his mouth hanging open. His face is drained of color, but I don’t know if that’s the pall of death or his cancer. Doesn’t matter now. He’s dead.
I stagger back a few steps and my entire body goes so numb, my gun hits the ground with a loud clatter. I can’t believe she’s gone. And I don’t have the first clue where she is. Or how to find her. I replay the conversation with Hammerhead over and over in my mind, but he gave me no clues. He said nothing telling.
He is right, though. I am going to spend the rest of my life in torment. I’m going to spend the rest of my life trying to find her. Trying to find the love of my life and the mother of my children. I fall to my knees and bury my face in my hands as I begin to sob. The grief that grips me is so thick and so deep that I can barely think. Can barely function.
Molly needs me. She needs me to find and save her. But at the same time, my boy needs me. I need to be here for Jenkins. I have to raise him. But how can I raise him without her? How can I teach him the right ways without her? I feel like she was my center. My moral compass. She was the one I could count on to always do the right thing and inspire me to do the same. What am I supposed to do without her?
I raise my face to the sky and let out a scream that’s filled with rage. With raw emotion. With hatred. With fear.
It’s in that moment though, that I make a silent vow to find Molly. I don’t care what I have to do or how long it takes. I’m going to find her or what happened to her.
I will search to the ends of the earth and to the end of time. I’m either going to find Molly, find out what happened to her, or I’m going to die in the process of trying. That’s my vow. My promise to her.
And I don’t break promises to Molly.
