CHAPTER 13: CHAPTER 13: ZANE THORNE’S GAZE FALLS ON NATALIE VAUGHN’S PALM

Zane Thorne looked down at the blushing girl, her eyes bright, and silently took a step back, lowering his gaze.

Now he wouldn’t easily trust Natalie Vaughn’s facade; not every word that came out of her mouth could be believed.

"Then don’t bother learning."

Zane Thorne tossed this light-hearted remark and walked over to the side, but he had no intention of going outside for a smoke. Instead, he sat in the rest area, casually spreading his legs, elbows on knees, his body slightly hunched over, holding a bottle of water—very laid-back.

Natalie Vaughn raised an eyebrow, indifferent to the fact that Zane Thorne had just taught her a few things before leaving her. She was clever and had a good memory; she had already mastered the correct posture for holding a bow, now all that was left was how to shoot.

Under the manager’s signal, the coach finally stepped forward. Unlike Zane Thorne, he didn’t dare get handsy with Natalie Vaughn, maintaining a respectful distance while discussing the key points.

Natalie Vaughn was somewhat different from most girls; she had a competitive spirit flowing in her veins. Whenever she encountered something she was interested in, she wanted to learn it to a certain extent, at least enough for others to stop and admire when she’s out having fun.

She learned quickly, and soon the coach stepped aside.

From initially missing the target, to hitting it, to scoring six rings, seven rings, eight rings, then nine, ten, and finally the bullseye, it only took Natalie Vaughn half an hour.

The improvement earned her praises from the coach, and the manager was buttering her up. Sitting nearby in the rest area, Zane Thorne raised an eyebrow, a bit surprised.

He looked at Natalie Vaughn’s arms, deep in thought.

Natalie Vaughn’s spirits were high, as she picked up another arrow. Zane Thorne’s brow furrowed, just about to stand up and stop her when a boisterous voice came through.

"Hey, I was wondering which little sister Zane Thorne brought, turns out it’s Nina."

Hearing the voice, Natalie Vaughn put down the arrow, her eyebrows furrowing slightly—the voice sounded all too familiar.

The manager had already gone to greet him, and the owner of the voice finally revealed himself.

The newcomer had dyed his hair silver, wore a cross earring on his brow, dressed in loose casual clothing, his tattoo-covered arms on display, with a thick silver chain dangling across his chest. His eyes carried a mischievous charm, and he had a lollipop in his mouth.

Arrogantly composed, the second son of the Donovan Family, Quentin Donovan.

Natalie Vaughn looked at his face and flamboyant attire, slightly twitching the corner of her mouth. The manager’s address of "boss" surprised Natalie Vaughn: so this shooting club was owned by the Donovan Family’s second son. So, he and Zane Thorne are well-acquainted friends?

Thinking along these lines, Natalie Vaughn glanced over at Zane Thorne, her gaze shifting between them, really unable to comprehend how Zane Thorne could be friends with Quentin Donovan.

After all, one hardly speaks, while the other is famously loudmouthed in their social circle.

If anything, perhaps Zane Thorne could occasionally be a bit foul-mouthed, unable to say anything nice.

Quentin Donovan stepped forward attempting to sling an arm around Zane Thorne’s shoulder, only for the latter to sidestep and avoid him. Quentin Donovan wasn’t fazed, blowing a long fringe off his forehead.

"Why didn’t you tell me you were coming, I could have come to play with you."

Then he paused, grinned cheekily at Natalie Vaughn.

"Oh, right, you’ve got Nina with you today, naturally you don’t need me."

Natalie Vaughn met Quentin Donovan’s somewhat sycophantic smile, which made him resemble a madam trying to please, furrowing her brows in disdain. Her family and the Donovan Family had a good relationship, often visiting each other. Somehow, Quentin Donovan, despite his hoodlum appearance, had managed to earn her parents’ praise, even James Vaughn got along well with him.

Yet she couldn’t quite grasp it; every time she saw Quentin Donovan’s grinning face, she got goosebumps.

Quentin Donovan glanced at the target and let out an exaggerated "Wow!"

"Nina, you’re really impressive!"

Natalie Vaughn felt a headache coming on.

"Can you not be so strange?"

Quentin Donovan placed a hand over his heart, feigning hurt.

"I sincerely compliment you, and you say such a thing!"

Natalie Vaughn: ....

Evidently, Zane Thorne also found Quentin Donovan excessively noisy and tossed his bottle towards him.

"Wanna have a match?"

Quentin Donovan smugly waved the bottle in his hand, raising his chin in pride, refusing.

"No, I want to compete with Nina."

Natalie Vaughn felt disgusted; it wasn’t just using her nickname, but he insisted on appending "little sister" to it.

Zane Thorne didn’t say much, stepping forward to take the bow from Natalie Vaughn’s hand, handing it over to the coach alongside, without giving her a glance.

"She’s done playing."

Natalie Vaughn furrowed her brow, how was she done playing?

Quentin Donovan found it intriguing too, not just that the Vaughn family’s eldest daughter would actually let someone decide things for her, but also that Zane Thorne would take a leisurely interest in making decisions for others.

"It’s over just because you say it is?"

Quentin Donovan asked, smiling at Natalie Vaughn.

"Nina, want to compete?"

Natalie Vaughn opened her mouth, just about to tell him to stop calling her that disgusting name when Zane Thorne asked the manager to bring a first aid kit.

At that, both Natalie Vaughn and Quentin Donovan looked over at Zane Thorne.

"What happened? Did you hurt yourself playing archery?"

Zane Thorne cast him a calm glance, then turned his gaze towards Natalie Vaughn’s hand.

It was only under his gaze that Natalie Vaughn realized her palm was somewhat painfully burning. She had gotten so absorbed in playing earlier, she had forgotten her palm still had a wound.

Thinking of this, Natalie Vaughn looked up at Zane Thorne, surprised inside, not expecting him to remember such a little detail.

Quentin Donovan dramatically pulled up Natalie Vaughn’s hand.

"Nina, did your hand get injured?"

Natalie Vaughn was wearing protective gear on her hand. Quentin Donovan flipped it over multiple times but couldn’t see anything significant.

Natalie Vaughn pulled away from his hand and removed the protective gear. Her palm was sweaty, and the bandage had gotten damp, stained with blood.

Quentin Donovan took a sharp intake of breath.

"Nina, how did you get injured like this?"

Natalie Vaughn’s brow furrowed, having had enough.

"Can you stop calling me that disgusting name?"

Quentin Donovan: ....

What’s so disgusting about the name ’Nina Little Sister’?

Though Natalie Vaughn’s palm was indeed looking quite dreadful, even feeling aggrieved, Quentin Donovan shut his mouth.

By then, the manager had brought the first aid kit over, and Quentin Donovan eagerly volunteered to tend to Natalie Vaughn’s wound.

Watching the silver-haired man carefully treat her injury, Natalie Vaughn was somewhat curious.

"You’re so adept, did you practice this from childhood injuries in fights?"

Upon hearing that, Quentin Donovan snorted.

"I always knocked others down; I got used to bandaging him up."

Quentin Donovan pursed his lips, glancing at the so-called "him."

Natalie Vaughn curiously looked over at Zane Thorne, from the moment he had taken her bow and asked the manager for the first aid kit, he hadn’t spoken a word.

Turns out Zane Thorne and Quentin Donovan were bonded through their solid ties as patient and ’healer’?

Zane Thorne lifted his gaze at Natalie Vaughn for a moment, then dropped it back to her hand, furrowing his brow.

Fine skin, delicate flesh, the wound hadn’t healed completely and had cracked further from playing archery earlier, with her arm just a thin stick. Despite her weakness, she was able to play for so long.

Zane Thorne thought, the young girl must be somewhat oblivious.