QUINNAs the engine rumbled close, I kicked my feet to get him to put me down. He caught on fast and set me on my feet in the next second. I cleared my throat and straightened. Luciano looked alert beside me, reaching for the bags at his feet. “Do you think we should—”He lifted his arm and waved at the truck before I could get the question all the way out. A few good meters away from us, it was at full speed. My heart lurched because I feared they would just speed right past us, not caring for strangers who were lost on a highway in the middle of nowhere. Where the fuck were we at, again? God, I knew I should have asked questions. I was still struggling with analyzing the reality of our situation when Luciano suddenly stepped in the path of the oncoming vehicle, fingers casually hooked in his pockets, plastic bags dangling from them. “What are you doing?!” I screamed, heart lurching and toppling to my stomach. Was he really trying to get himself killed? Anyway, what do I care
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