I felt like a child being buckled into a car seat the way Luca manhandled me into the passenger seat of his truck.
Wordlessly, he reached across me and buckled me up before slamming the car door shut to walk around to the driver's side. I sat quietly as he started the truck and drove off, gently cradling my right hand against my stomach and covering it with my left.
The back of my hand was throbbing, especially around my last two knuckles. My fingers were numb and I could barely move them.
I knew it was likely broken.
I held back tears as the adrenaline levels in my body began to lower and allowed me to fully experience the shooting pain in my hand.
An awkward few minutes passed by before we pulled up to the gate in front of his house and drove down his driveway. As soon as the truck
