Summary: a creep is following you and you run into Tim and Brian. Are they real gentlemen, or are they hiding something?
The woods at night have never been scary to you. If anything, it all felt peaceful.
You liked taking walks late in the evening, surrounded by nature, knowing no one would be there to bother you.
Except for now. This guy has been following you the entire day, and no matter how hard you told him no, he still tried to get to you.
You kept walking, faster, looking behind your shoulder, repeating to the guy to get lost.
The guy, in all his stupidity, kept trying to touch you. You were pretty sure he was drunk as well.
“I’m telling you right now,” You hissed out, “Keep following me and I’m beating your ass into the ground.”
The guy had no self awareness, and no self preservation as well as he sloppily grabbed onto your wrist.
You were about to cuss him out until you stumbled into two other people. They were both men, older than you, probably. Maybe in their early to mid thirties.
One had dark brown hair and sideburns and a red flannel while the taller one had a yellow hoodie.
They looked at you, then at the guy, then at you again.
"There a problem?" Tim asked, cigarette in his mouth as he used a lighter to lit it.
Brian looked from you to the guy, tilting his head as he stayed silent.
You looked at them with wide eyes, lips parting. You shoved your arm out of the guy's hand and took a step back toward the two men.
"He keeps following me." You told them, a bit breathless.
Tim took a long drag of his cigarette, eyes fixed on the guy. The man's face went pale as he seemed to sober up a bit.
"Following her, huh?" Tim's voice dropped low, “That's a real shame."
Brian leaned against a tree, arms crossed, a lazy smile playing on his lips. "Real shame indeed."
The guy stammered something about leaving, backing away. Tim stepped forward, blocking his path.
"See, the thing is," Tim said, exhaling smoke, "We really don't like men who can't take no for an answer."
Brian tilted his head, glancing at you for a few seconds before looking back at his friend and the weirdo.
“Where we come from, guys who can’t understand basic manners are bitches,” Brian added, tone almost conversational. “Are you a little bitch, or is your brain starting to work properly?”
The weirdo looked from them back to you. He had his eyes narrowed, and the grimace on his face suggested that he was thinking of hurting you. Tim could read it all too clearly.
Tim's hand shot out and caught the guy's wrist mid-grab. He twisted it hard, earning a sharp yelp and a cry from the guy.
"I don't think so." He dropped the cigarette and ground it out with his boot. "Brian, take her somewhere. I'll handle this."
Brian pushed off the tree and walked over to you, his hand gentle on your lower back, “Come on, sweetheart. Let's get you away from this mess."
He guided you toward the treeline, his body blocking the view of whatever Tim was doing behind you.
You walked, body still stiff from the stress as you cleared your throat, “What's going on? What is he doing to him?" You asked Brian as he led you away.
You tried looking back, but Brian's hand moved on the back of your head, redirecting your face ahead.
“Nothing you need to worry about," Brian said, his voice easy and warm despite the situation. "Just a lesson in manners is all."
He kept his hand on the back of your head, guiding you through the trees until you reached a clearing with an old pickup truck parked beside a fallen log.
He stopped and turned you to face him, studying you with those hazel eyes. “You alright? He didn't hurt you, did he?"
You looked at him before nodding, “I'm fine, yeah. Just a bit thrown off, I guess. Doesn’t happen much.”
Your fingers played with the hem of your shirt, a bit unsure of what was happening.
Brian's lips quirked into something between a smile and a smirk. "Good." He let his hand fall from your head to your shoulder, thumb brushing over your collarbone. "You live around here? Cause walking these woods alone at night ain't the smartest idea."
From the trees behind you, Tim emerged, wiping his hands on his jeans. He lit another cigarette and joined you and Brian, standing at Brian's side.
"Problem's dealt with," Tim said flatly, eyes scanning you. "You need a ride home?"
You looked between them before raising your hands and shaking your head. “No, no. I've already bothered you enough." You laughed nervously, "No need."
Tim's jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. Brian's easy smile didn't waver, but something flickered in his eyes.
"It's no bother," Brian said, taking a slow step forward to close the distance you had created. "We don't usually let pretty girls walk home alone after dark. Especially not ones who just had a run-in with creeps."
Tim took a drag of his cigarette, watching you through the smoke. "Truck's right there. Won't take but five minutes."
Your eyes moved to the truck before looking back at them, “Ah, alright. If it's really not a bother, then I'd appreciate it." You muttered.
Brian's grin widened, genuine and warm. “Atta girl. Come on."
He led you to the back side of the old Ford, opening the door for you. The interior was worn but clean, smelling of cigarettes and pine air freshener. Tim climbed into the driver's seat, Brian sliding into the passenger seat.
"Where to?" Brian asked, settling back.
You watched as Tim made a U-turn before clearing your throat, “Near Marple Hill." You told them.
Tim grunted, taking a slow turn onto the main road. The truck hummed beneath them, headlights cutting through the dark.
Brian's fingers drummed lazily on his thigh. "Marple Hill, huh. Nice area. It’s quiet." He tilted his head. "You live alone out there?"
Tim's eyes flicked to the rearview to glance at you before shooting a look to his friend, catching Brian's glance. A silent exchange passed between them before his attention returned to the road.
You weren’t aware as you kept looking out of the window. “Yeah, I do." You said, "Moved in a month ago."
You drummed your fingers against your thigh as you deeply breathed out, settling against the backseat.
"New in town and already wandering the woods at night," Brian said, a hint of amusement in his voice. "You've got guts, l'Il give you that."
Tim took a slow drag of his cigarette, cracking the window to let the smoke out, “Marple Hill's got some rough patches. Woods connect to some old logging roads, places where folks go to disappear."
Brian's hand finally settled still on his leg before turning his face back to look at you over his shoulder, "Good thing you ran into us instead of someone worse, right?"
You gave him a nervous smile before nodding, “Yeah, lucky me." You said, "You live around here or am I making you drive far from home?"
Tim exhaled smoke, watching it curl out the window. "Close enough. Edge of Rosswood."
Brian's thumb traced a lazy circle on his thigh. "We know these woods like the back of our hands. Grew up running through ‘em." He chuckled, low and warm. "Timmy here used to get us lost for hours, tracking deer and bunnies."
Tim's mouth twitched-almost a smile. “Learned to track other things since then."
The truck slowed as they approached a gravel drive. A mailbox with faded lettering read Marple Hill Rd.
You hummed, looking ahead. “Oh, so you two like hunting?" You asked them.
Brian's smile turned crooked. "Something like that."
Tim pulled the truck to a stop at the end of the gravel drive, engine idling. The house sat dark and quiet ahead, a modest two-story with a porch swing swaying in the breeze.
"Here we are," Brian said, but neither man moved.
Tim killed the engine, the sudden silence pressing in. He turned in his seat, hazel eyes fixed on you. "We'll walk you to the door."
You looked at them, offering them a small smile before shaking your head. “There's no need, really." You told them, waving your hands.
Brian exchanged a look with Tim. Tim's hand remained on the keys, not starting the engine nor moving away.
"It ain't a problem, sweetheart," Brian said, voice dropping that warm Southern register. “Dark night like this, porch light's out, wouldn’t sleep right knowing we didn't see you get inside safe."
Tim cracked his door open, the dome light flooding the cab. He stepped out, boots crunching gravel, and walked around to stand by the porch steps.
Brian's hand found the door handle on your side before opening it for you. "Come on, sweetheart. Humor us."
You slowly got out and followed them to the porch before stopping right in front of the front door.
"See? It's alright." You said.
Brian leaned against the porch railing, arms crossed, a lazy smile playing on his lips, “Alright, we see."
He didn't move to leave. His eyes stayed on you the whole time as you searched for your keys, before glancing at Tim and nodding.
Tim stood at the bottom of the steps, hands in his jacket pockets, scanning the treeline like he was listening for something. After a long moment, his gaze settled back on you.
"Lock your doors tonight. All of 'em." Tim warned, “And your windows too.”
Brian pushed off the railing, stepping closer, “Let's see inside too." His fingers brushed your elbow, light and deliberate. “We'd hate for something to happen to you after all the trouble of saving you.”
You stared at them, processing Brian's words, “You...wanna go inside?" You asked him, "I assure no killer is in there."
You glanced at Tim nervously.
Brian's laugh rolled out easy, but the edge in his eyes didn't soften. "Not worried about killers in there, honey. Worried about the ones out here."
"Aint no reason to be skittish," Tim added, a lazy honesty in it, "Just the ghost of our mothers in us. Good Southern boys raised to see a woman safe to her front door. Look under the bed if she asks."
Brian's hand found yours, warm and calloused. He lifted it gently, let his thumb trace across your knuckles. "It’s just southern hospitality. Five minutes, then we're gone and we won’t bother you no more. I promise.”
You were hesitant, but they helped you with that creep! And even took you home. You owed them for their help, after all. Letting them won’t be a problem.
You unlocked the front door, slipping inside and holding the door open for them.
Brian stepped in first, his eyes scanning the living room with a slow, deliberate sweep.
He ran a hand along the back of the couch, checking the floor before moving to the kitchen.
Tim followed, closing the door behind him with a soft click. His footsteps were quiet as he moved through the hallway, peeking into the kitchen, the bathroom. He checked the lock on the back door and tested the window.
"The lock is a bit loose there," Tim said, returning to the living room to you, “In the kitchen. You should change it.”
You glanced at the kitchen before nodding slowly, “I will. Thank you for checking.”
“Mm.” Tim hummed, looking at you with a tilt of the head.
You glanced at the stairs, knowing Brian was somewhere upstairs. What was he doing? Why was he up there? Why didn’t you even notice him go there?
“Bri, you’re spooking the girl out,” Tim called out, “Get down here, boy.”
You watched as Brian emerged from the hallway and walked down the stairs with an easy smile, “Checked the bathroom just in case. Everything’s good.”
You nodded as you walked them to the front door and watched as they walked back out, “Thank you again for helping me back in the woods and for taking me home. I really appreciate it.”
Tim nodded as Brian smiled, “No need to thank us, sweetheart. It’s our duty.”
You smiled and wished them a good night before closing the door.
They walked back to the car and slipped inside, in silence.
Tim sighed as he lit another cigarette while starting the engine, “That was too easy.”
Brian hummed as he grabbed his phone from the front pocket of his hoodie, “She’s a sweet one, Tim. What did you expect? Fights and screams?”
He tapped on the phone before showing him. Tim glanced to his right, seeing you walk around your house, unaware of the cameras Brian smoothly put around your house.
“Pretty.” Tim flatly said before starting the car and driving away before you could get suspicious.
Brian nodded, “Mm.” He hummed as he kept watching you settle for the night, “Picked the most oblivious girl in town, that’s for sure.”
