Nightmare

With a final, careful twist of the flathead screwdriver, Vincent secured the new lock on their bedroom door. He took a step back, surveying the room with a meticulous eye, mentally ticking off each item on his list. The bathroom and hall closet were stocked with extra supplies, each weapon in the room discreetly hidden and loaded. Everything was in its place, a small measure of control in a world that often felt anything but secure. He locked the door behind him, the sound of the click somehow both reassuring and heavy.

As he turned to leave, a sudden vibration from his wrist caught his attention. He glanced down at his tech wristlet, his heart sinking when he saw the spike in Cole’s BPM. Without a second thought, Vincent bolted upstairs, his heart pounding in his chest.

He slipped on protective gear with practiced speed and pushed open the door to Cole’s bedroom. "Cole?" His voice was steady, but the urgency was unmistakable. His eyes swept over the room, taking in the disarray—furnit