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This was the end goal, after all. I wasn’t going to hide anymore, and the more support I had, the stronger I was. Because it was going to take more than one David to take down this Goliath.
It was late evening, and I watched as gymnasts filed out of the facility, heading home. I waited around in the distance, off to the side of the building knowing,hewould be the last one to leave. I would bide my time.
After meeting with Rebecca today, and hearing her story, my drive to take down Alexandru consumed me.
Other coaches and staff soon filed out, and finally, I watched as my former coach passed through the door as he stared down at his phone before putting it in his pocket. He set off down the sidewalk toward the parking lot.
Before I could take off after him, a hand clamped down on my shoulder, stopping me. “What in the hell are you doing here?” The voice, and his touch, were unmistakable.
I tried to shrug off his grip, knowing I was running out of time. “Dmitri, let me go. I need to settle this.”
“Settle what?” He held on to me. “Tell me what’s going on.”
“Please, just let me handle this.” I didn’t want to break down and tell him, but I could barely control my voice. “It’s none of your concern.”
“Everything about you is my concern. Talk to me, Sorina.”
The dam in my chest started to break. “I can’t let him hurt anyone else. I can’t.”
He followed my gaze and nodded toward the perpetrator walking down the aisle of cars. “What didhedo to you? He hurt you. He’s the reason you quit. Fuck, I should’ve known.”
“Let me go.” I struggled to break free, but he clamped an arm around my stomach and yanked me against him, spurring me to fight harder. I was desperate to get my revenge. However, Dmitri wrapped his other arm around my arms, trapping me in his hold. “I have to see this through.”
“What did he do to you?” Dmitri growled.
“Please,” I begged desperately, feeling an opportunity slip through my fingers. “He can’t. He can’t get away with this.”
“He won’t,” he vowed softly against my ear. The air was so thick in my lungs, it seemed my whole body rose and fell, and I dropped my head. He eased up his constricting hold but kept his arm around my waist. With his other hand, he stroked my hair.
I closed my eyes, and tears slipped down my cheek. Lately, I’d cried more than I’d ever had in my life. “He can’t get away with hurting people.”
“He won’t,” Dmitri rasped again. His words sounded harsher, but he continued to caress my hair. “He will pay for his sins.”
I leaned my head back on his shoulder and peered up at him. “Do you promise?”
“I swear on my life.”
Dmitri
All this time, all this fucking time, I’d always wondered why Sorina had given up a sport she loved. But my suspicions could never match the truth she told me, and I hated myself for knowing what she endured. She had suffered physical and mental abuse from her coach. I sat her down on a nearby park bench, and she finally shared the secret she’d hidden for years.
“I was constantly ridiculed about my weight. He called me names like fat pig or fat cow and said I would never amount to anything because I was too heavy to be a gymnast. Then I was constantly on a treadmill or running outside for miles. Not to mention calling me stupid, weak, terrible, and a disgrace.
“Sometimes when he was angry, he would lash out. He slapped me. Shoved me around. One time, he shoved me so hard, I fell and sprained my wrist.
“I was working out on the uneven bars, and I missed catching the bar and fell on my stomach. He was so furious, he clasped my wrist and yanked on my arm so forcefully I dislocated it.
“I knew something was wrong with my knee before that meet. I’d injured it in practice the day before. It was swelling, and I told Alexandru. I knew I needed to stay off of it. He knew it, too. However, he shamed me into competing, telling me if I was too weak to compete, then I didn’t need to be there. When I argued with him, he grabbed me by the throat and slammed me against the wall and said, ‘You will never amount to anything without me. Do you hear me?’
“But that wasn’t even the worst. It was the touches that usually followed the violence. The soft words. The ‘rewards’ when I did something to please him. He touched me inappropriately. On my breasts. My butt. His hand lingered on my pelvis…
“I lost myself. I lost all the confidence in a sport I loved with all my heart.”
It made me sick. Fury and vengeance strummed through my system like a force that grew stronger every second. She said there were other gymnasts, but no one spoke out against him because they were scared. He was apparently a big name in this sport, and no one called him out. This ended now. This fucker had hurt his last victim.
The next evening, I went back to the gym and waited until I saw gymnasts leave. I tugged the hoodie over my head and passed through the main entrance, keeping my head down as a few more people walked by. I spotted that gray-haired, pot-bellied, sweat-suit-wearing son of a bitch walking off to the side through glass doors. I followed. He walked down a hallway and passed through a door to his right.
I strolled up to the door and slowly turned the handle, pushing in silently. He was at his desk with a lit cigar in his mouth and a bottle of alcohol, studying some papers in his hand.
