<b>Chapter </b><b>372 </b>
Wednesday April 11th
<b>(</b>Patrick’s POV)
It’s been a week since Cole amazed me with his skills in sparring with Demetri. He truly <b>is </b><b>amazing</b><b>. </b><b>I </b>was happy and relieved when I saw him the next morning. He waste but considering the <b>night </b><b>he </b>had anytime he spends observing is weed by me. He only spends a few hours before lunch watching.
I left him be, pretended that I didn’t see him the first few days. Monday was the first time <b>I </b>approached him while the prospects were practicing the moves I had just shown them<b>. </b>He <b>didn’t </b><b>talk </b>much and seemed ufortable with me being close to him but I kept everything neutral <b>as </b><b>f </b>
talked with him.
My meeting with Demetri Friday allowed me to go over what I saw and how hepared <b>to </b>the others. As I expected, he was quite pleased with the results.
He spoke with me about testing Cole’s defensive techniques once his custom padse in. They were supposed to arrivest Thursday but shipping got dyed before the equipment was dered lost and now we’re waiting to receive the second set due in tomorrow.
I’ve had to back track my group. Even though they are the most advanced in techniquepared to the other two groups, I’ve had to bring them back to basics. They’ve all bezy and sloppy with their effort and several of them have been hurt in the process.
This week has been a challenge as they have all be bored and surly. Most of them have straight up stopped listening and I’m beyond ready for the worst offenders, the ones who tantly disrespect my every order, to pack up and leave.
Unfortunately we have a rule that only an unforgivable act will send these prospects packing. I’m already frustrated with therge group of thirty as <b>I </b>spot Cole walking up to his usual spot, hisfort zone far enough away that he doesn’t interact with the group but close enough that he has an unobstructed view of me. I found out Monday that he has no interest in learning from the prospects. His interest was in me and my techniques.
I smile as I check my watch. 10am. Demetri was right. Once he creates a schedule he sticks <b>to </b>it.
“All rightdy and gentlemen.” I project my voice into the crowd gaining their attention from warm up exercises.
“I want all of you to grab your pads and partner up. This exercise is above the waist. I want <b>to </b><b>see </b>hits with your hands only, no feet. We are practicing body movements. If your partner swings <b>you </b>need to duck. Meter your strength. Your goal is to work with your partner in such a way <b>that </b><b>you </b>
<b>Chapter </b><b>372 </b>
both learn fluidity. It is not about knocking the <b>other </b>one out. <b>Any </b><b>unnecessary </b><b>roughness </b><b>will </b><b>be </b>rewarded with fiveps around the yground track. You’ve got thirty <b>minutes </b><b>to </b>work <b>up </b>a sweat
Start now.”
Unsurprisingly, they barely move. Jamie and my only female in this group, Mica, are the <b>first </b>ones to separate from the group and make a space for themselves farther away.
I’ve noticed that they flirt quite strongly with each other, reminding me of my time with <b>Mandy. </b><b>At </b>times I regret not seeking out my second chance mate but for the most part I haven’t <b>had </b><b>much </b>time to think about the loneliness thates with being single.
I make my way over to Cole, refusing to repeat myself and taking the stance <b>of </b>asking Demetri <b>if </b>dismissal due to non participation was a possibility for the majority in my <b>advanced </b>group.
“You’re looking a bit rough today, are you doing okay<b>?</b><b>” </b>
I ask as he truly looks like he’s in a lot of pain right now. As usual he remains silent but does manage to give me a slight shake of his head. I stand right next to him and gaze in the direction he appears to be looking.
As the crowd finally separates, wandering slowly over to their sparring gear and putting it on<b>, </b><b>I </b>spot one of the pack’s pups in the distance practicing the moves he’s watched me demonstrate to the
group.
“Who’s the little?”
Cole’s question surprises me as our meetings out here usually has only me talking.
“That is beta Jackson. I’m close with his parents. His father is a warrior and his mother works outside the pack as a seamstress.”
“He’s mimicking the prospects instead of you. He’s going to jam his wrist if he puts any force behind that form.”
I sigh as I notice the same sloppiness as the prospects in Jax.
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