Nathan stared at Zane's retreating back until the figure vanished behind the glass door leading to the garden.
"Weak?" Nathan hissed. He clenched his jaw, the adrenaline in his veins turning into a cold, simmering anger. He wouldn't take that from anyone, especially not from this arrogant, rude boy.
Nathan didn't turn back toward the library. He marched toward the garden entrance. He wasn't done with Zane. He wasn't going to let that icy dismissal stand.
He pushed the glass door open and stepped into the garden. It was a secluded, manicured area with lots of plants.
Zane had claimed one of the stone benches, sitting casually. He was already lighting a cigarette, shielding the flame with his hand.
Nathan walked up and stopped right in front of him. "Don't flatter yourself, Zane," Nathan spat out, his voice sharp. "You think you saved me? Then you can just call me weak?"
