ALL YOURS, DADDY
Elena’s POV**
I joined the gym because I wanted to feel stronger by the end of summer.
The place was small but expensive-looking—black rubber floors, mirrored walls, rows of gleaming machines that smelled faintly of metal and disinfectant. I’d signed up online, paid the f*e, showed up in leggings and a cropped tank, ready to sweat out whatever leftover freshman-year stress was still clinging to me.
Marcus was behind the desk when I walked in.