Your heart pounded as you sped up, breath uneven. The heavy footsteps behind you were still there—steady, unrelenting. The man who’d been following you since you left the party.

You clutched your jacket tighter, but it didn’t help. Your skirt barely reached mid-thigh, and your top left your shoulders bare. The night air bit at your skin, once refreshing, now suffocating. The OBX streets felt deserted, eerie—like something out of a horror movie. No witnesses. No escape. No one to help.

And, of course, your phone had died before you could call for help. You swallowed hard, glancing back. The guy was closer now, his dark hoodie pulled low over his face, steps matching yours. Panic clawed at your throat.

Then, like a miracle, you heard it.

The low rumble of a dirt bike.

You turned just in time to see a guy riding toward you, golden hair whipping in the wind, cap barely hanging on. Without thinking, you acted.

Please let this work.

"Hey, baby!" you called out, waving eagerly as the bike slowed.

JJ Maybank’s brows furrowed in confusion as he pulled up beside you. His signature cocky smirk was nowhere to be found as he looked you over. "Uh… do I—"

You cut him off, stepping closer. "Please help me," you whispered, voice shaking. "Some guy’s been following me. Just—please."

JJ’s playful expression vanished instantly. His jaw clenched as he flicked his eyes past you, getting a good look at the guy trailing behind. His grip on the handlebars tightened, knuckles going white. "Yeah," he muttered, voice dark. "Hop on."

He patted the seat, eyes locked on the creep. You didn’t hesitate. You climbed on, gripping his waist as the engine roared to life. "Hold on," JJ warned. And then—he hit the gas.

The bike roared as you sped off, wind whipping against your face as JJ took sharp turns and sped through the empty streets like he owned them. The guy had stopped in his tracks, watching helplessly as—the reckless, dangerously protective Pogue—whisked you away into the night.

And just like that, you knew—you were safe.