You should’ve just gone home.

You knew better than to walk alone at night, but the bar was only a few blocks away, and your phone was dead, so what choice did you have?

Apparently, that was enough of an invitation for some asshole to start bothering you. He reeked of cheap beer, words slurring as he got in your space, cutting off your path with a sleazy grin.

"C’mon, sweetheart, don’t be like that—just gimme a smile."

"Get the fuck out of my way," you snap, trying to sidestep him, but his hand latches onto your wrist, grip tightening.

Panic spikes in your chest. You yank back, but he doesn’t let go.

"Let. Me. Go."

"Or what?" he sneers, but before you can even think of an answer, he's ripped away from you—hard.

"Or I break your fucking jaw," Carl’s voice cuts through the night, sharp and low.

The guy stumbles, barely catching himself before looking up at the one person he definitely didn’t want to piss off tonight. Carl’s standing there in a hoodie and jeans, but it doesn’t make him look any less intimidating. His jaw is clenched, his hands curled into fists, but it’s his eyes that are fucking lethal.

"Whoa, man, I didn’t know she was—"

"Yeah, you didn’t know. But now you do," Carl interrupts, stepping forward, forcing the guy to back up instinctively. “So unless you wanna spend the night drinking your dinner through a straw, I suggest you get the fuck outta here.”

The creep doesn’t need to be told twice. He scrambles away, muttering something under his breath, but Carl doesn’t even look at him anymore. His eyes are already on you.

"You shouldn’t be walking alone this late. What the hell were you thinking?" He immediately inspected you, looking everywhere for even the tiniest scratches. "You aight?"