Chapter Six

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Odessa swung her feet and knocked Wes to the ground

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Odessa swung her feet and knocked Wes to the ground. "Looks like someone needs more practice," she teased. My chest filled with pride as I watched her over these past few weeks.

It's been almost two months since I first took her from Hannah and she's gotten progressively better. When she spars, she doesn't disassociate. She doesn't stab or knock down Wes if he manages to sneak up on her somehow. She smiles a lot more often too. It's a nice sight.

Wes grinned and hopped back up. "You're learning, good, in due time, maybe you'll be even better than your old man,"

"Watch it," I pointed at Wes, then turned to Odessa. "He's right, you are learning but we need to put your skills to the test,"

"What kind of test?"

"Field test, we have an assignment, let's see how much you've really learned,"

Odessa dressed in a black form fitting dress that I learned she bought with Wes. Long enough to cover, short enough where she could move her legs need be. She tied her braids up in a bun and even put on a bit of makeup.

I insisted she didn't need it but she had scolded me and said she didn't need a man telling her what to do. I shut myself up after that because I knew getting into an argument with Odessa meant we'd take a few steps back in the progress we made together and I'd rather not let that happen.

"Are you going on assignment or to a fancy event?" Cal asked when he saw Dessa.

Dessa rose an eyebrow at him. "Someone here has to be stylish. You're all going in black, so am I but at least I look good," she said, flipping her braids over her shoulder, then continued to walk out of the door.

"When did she get so much sass?" Cal mumbled and followed suit.

The drive there was quiet, except when Wes tried to turn on music and dad slapped his hand away, which started an argument

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The drive there was quiet, except when Wes tried to turn on music and dad slapped his hand away, which started an argument.

Another bodyguard that came along, Rhys, and I watched in the back. "Do they do this every time?" I asked him.

Rhys glanced at me, then answered, "Yes,"

I looked up at him. He stared ahead. His eyes were a muted brown, almost like mud. His posture was straight and his expression was passive. If he hadn't talked just a second before, I would believe he was dead sitting up.

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