Page 40 of Revived (Lucky Ones #1)

Chapter thirty

Elena Rossi

T he Lucky Ones Group Chat:

Knox: Good luck today. Miss you, Ellie.

Dom: I’ll be watching. Miss you.

Flynn: I know you broke up with all of us, but the Russians couldn’t even keep me away from today. You get to choose who you talk to, but I get to choose if I show up at an open event or not. Snap out of this soon, Ellie-Bellie. We’re miserable without you.

Xavier: Go out and show out. I’m proud of you no matter what. Love you.

** Sully has removed himself from the group chat**

Knox: Well, shit.

I don’t know how we got here so quickly.

I was just losing my shit in the hallway of the gym.

Now it’s the morning of the Olympic trials, and I have to pull my life together enough to compete.

It hasn’t been easy ignoring everyone. I’ve been on the verge of breaking for almost a week.

The only thing keeping me going is this competition.

I had to turn off my text notifications the other day because the guys are still randomly texting me.

I’m going to handle this, and then I’m going to beg for their forgiveness.

My phone pings, snapping me out of my thoughts.

YSA: I want to see you before the gym today.

Yeah, apparently this guy is Mac 2.0 and knows how to get past any phone setting I throw up.

Elena: I can’t. I have to be there soon.

YSA: Make time, or I’ll make time to go visit your dogs.

He calls the guys dogs. I don’t know why or why he hates them so much, but he’s figured out that if he threatens them, I fold. Every single time. I know it isn’t good to show my achilles but I can’t help it. I’ll rip his throat out with my teeth if he so much as breathes in their direction.

Elena: I really do have to be at the gym soon.

YSA: Fine. I’ll see you after your competition. I’ll be in the crowd.

My stomach rolls with nausea, and I barely make it to the bathroom in time to empty its contents. My fingers itch to call someone. My Papa, the guys, Sullivan, anyone to help me. Instead I call one of the only people who I’m still talking to right now.

She doesn’t even get a chance to say anything before I’m rambling. “Addy. He’s demanding to meet with me before trials. What am I going to do?”

“It’s seven in the morning and he’s demanding to see you? Can he just fucking not. Remind me again why we aren’t going to your hot dad or the cops?”

She’s not a morning person as is, but add in the psycho who scared us that night, and she’s intolerant.

“We are, remember? Just not today. I have to get through today, secure my spot in the games, and then I’m going straight to the cops. You know as well as I do that a scandal the morning of the trials is not what any of us need.”

“I mean, technically you not we, but I get what you’re saying. Fine, so let him come to the gym. It’s secure, and what’s the worst that could happen? He asks for your dirty socks?” She laughs at her own joke, but I’m not laughing.

Addy doesn’t understand the severity of any of this. In her eyes a stalker is just some guy from high school who wasn’t in your league. It’s just someone desperate for attention; a noncredible threat. Only I was kidnapped by this asshole once before, so I know better.

We talk for a few more minutes before hanging up so I can grab my bag and head to the gym.

It’s going to be a good competition. Kenz left about thirty minutes ago, so she had plenty of time to get her morning coffee fix.

Now, as I’m sliding into my car and feeling the unnerving prickle at the side of my head, I realize I should have just gone with her.

Forcing myself to shake my head, I clear out the dark thoughts that are beginning to surface and pull out of the parking garage.

I have fifteen minutes to get my head together and get ready to go kick ass and earn my spot on the team.

Everything else can be dealt with tomorrow.

It’s time to put up or shut up, or, as X has told me every competition since my first one as a kid. ‘Go out and show out.’

The drive to the gym is quicker than I expected.

Probably because I’ve been lost in my own head for the majority of the trek.

Pulling up in the back of the building, I make sure to park right in between Addy and Kenzie.

Trials don’t start for a few more hours, but we’ll mentally prepare, check our gear, and visualize our routines in the meantime.

I push out of my car and throw my strap across my chest to carry my gym bag.

I throw the hood on my lucky jacket up, and with my head down, I make my way inside of the building.

Once I’m in the locker rooms, I find my spot and drop my bag.

We have warm ups that we have to wear when we go on the mats, but for now my baggy black sweatpants and Sully’s old cross country hoodie are my safe space.

My makeup is already done, and my hair is pulled up into two French braids that lead into a high ponytail on the crown of my head.

Instead of socializing and joking with the girls like I typically would, I place my headphones over my ears and blast my ‘competition playlist’.

Our lockers are less metal boxes and more a cubby with a bench in front of it.

I curl myself up on my seat as I draw my knees up and lay my head on top of them.

My eyes shut on instinct, and I allow myself to completely relax.

Thoughts of everything and everyone aside from myself and the job that I have to do are pushed to the back of my mind.

I’m unsure how long I stay like that when I feel a hand land on my shoulder. Looking up, I find Addy staring down at me with concern creasing her features. I remove my headphones and straighten up as my muscles groan in protest after being frozen in one spot for a while.

“What’s up?” I ask while looking for the third member of our group, whom I’ve yet to see this morning .

“Kenz needs us in the back locker rooms.” She shrugs. “Something about her hair and how she’s going to shave her head if she has to redo it again. I figured since you’re the braid whisperer that you’re the perfect person.” She laughs lightly.

Kenz really does have a hard time on comp days getting her hair how she wants it.

I end up doing it for her more times than not.

It shouldn’t take too long, so I leave my phone and headphones on the bench and replace them with a couple of different combs as well as boar and detangling brushes.

I grab some tiny and regular sized hair ties and follow Addy out.

“What in the world is she doing in the back locker room?” I note as we turn down the hallway to the old locker rooms.

“She said she was warming up in here so she could play her music and not get distracted.” Addy tells me nonchalantly.

We step into the locker room, but there’s no sight of Mackenzie.

I turn on my heels just in time to see it coming before I’m hit with it.

Fifty thousand volts straight to my ribs.

All of my muscles lock up as pain radiates through my body for what seems like hours but must only be a few seconds.

As soon as the shock stops, I’m pricked with something in the side of my neck.

As everything fades, I hear Addy’s manic laughter.

“You stupid bitch.”

***

My mouth is as dry as a desert and my limbs are screaming at me to move. Pain radiates in my head, beating with the time of my pulse. Nausea fights to win out as I already feel like the room is spinning. The memories come racing back to me as I fight through the white hot pain.

Addy.

We’ve been friends since I started training for my last Olympics when we were in college.

She came in and her personality just clicked with mine and Mackenzie…

Oh shit. Is she in on this too? A groan fights its way up my throat, alerting whoever is in this cold room with me that I’m at the very least conscious.

Come on, Elena. You’ve been raised by one of the most ruthless men in the country. You can get out of this.

“Well, hello my little gymnast.” That voice.

I pry my eyes open, just enough to catch a glimpse of the tall man.

His eyes are ice blue and his hair is the finest white blonde.

The similarities are so uncanny that I don’t know how I didn’t clock it when she first stepped foot in the gym.

This man looks identical to the man from that night all those years ago, but he also looks almost identical to the blonde bitch who’s been masquerading as my friend for years.

I groan out in protest as I realize that I’m covered in liquid. My body shivers as the chill sets into my bones. “Please. Help me.” I try. If he’s as in love with me as he’s been acting, maybe I can play to that.

“I know, principessa. I know, and I’m so sorry. You’ll forgive me for this one day. I hope you can understand. I have to help my sister get to the games, and we can’t do that with you standing in the way.”

Sadness fills his eyes as my brain tries to work through what he’s saying.

That is until I see the silver of the hammer in his hand glint in the low locker room light just before he swings it down and it connects with my elbow.

A scream lodges in my throat as the pain runs through every part of my body until blackness dots my vision.

The hammer comes down one more time, and the moment it connects with my forearm, I let the darkness take me. It’s got to be better than this.