My heart begins to hammer hard enough that I feel it in my throat.I swing my legs out of bed and step into the pants with hands that are suddenly unsteady.My tank top must be sufficient and there’s no demand to put on my shoes.Cole waves me behind him as he moves with quiet efficiency to the open doorway that leads into the hallway.That’s when I notice the gun in his hand.
It’s held low, angled toward the floor, finger off the trigger, but ready.
My mouth goes dry.“Is someone here?”I ask, my voice barely more than a breath.
As if in answer, a soft, unfamiliar chime cuts through the silence and it takes me half a second to recognize it as my phone.
The perimeter alert.
It’s from the security app Cole installed on both our phones.It’s set to chime after a legitimate threat detection from the thermal sensors tied to the exterior cameras.It only makes that sound when a large heat signature crosses the boundary mapped around the house.
Another faint chime follows and my pulse spikes.Cole’s eyes flick toward the nightstand where my phone sits glowing in the dark, and then back to me.
“Yes,” he says quietly.“And I need you to stick close behind me.”
Cole reaches into his back pocket, pulls out his phone that’s on a black light setting.The live perimeter map fills the display—a digital outline of my bungalow traced in thin white lines.Four pulsing red shapes move slowly through the yard, their forms rendered in grainy thermal silhouette.
They aren’t wandering.They’re advancing.
I don’t recognize the sound that leaves my throat, between a breath and a gasp, fear leaving me nearly immobile.
“How many?”I ask, even though I can see them.
Cole’s jaw tightens as he watches the shapes shift position near the back hedge.“Four,” he says quietly.“Two front and two back.”
One of the red signatures pauses near the kitchen window.Another moves toward the front door.The other two hang back a bit.
My stomach drops.“Cole…”
He hears the fear in my voice but doesn’t reassure me.He doesn’t have time, instead pressing his thumb down on a button and I know he’s just sent out an alert to Jameson.
“Stay behind me,” he says again, already moving toward the bedroom door.It’s a command wasted as I’m glued to him, my hand on his lower back.
The hallway beyond is dark with only the faint wash of the streetlight bleeding through the curtains in the front room.I follow him barefoot, sweatpants half tied, heart pounding so hard I’m certain whoever is outside can hear it.
We stop short of the living room instead of the kitchen, the hallway opening toward the front of the house where a low window faces the side yard.The curtains are tied back and a shadow moves past.
Cole positions me at the bend of the hallway where the wall angles just enough to shield me from a direct line of sight into the living room.From here, I can see part of the couch and the edge of the coffee table, but nothing of the front of the living room.“Stay,” he says, and I do.
Cole steps forward and slightly to the side, not centered in the opening but offset, eliminating the straight-line view from the window to where he stands.
“Whatever happens,” he murmurs, his voice barely stirring the air between us, “do not run unless I tell you to.”
I nod because I can’t seem to form words.
For a few seconds it’s utterly silent, mostly because I’m holding my breath.
Then I hear it.A faint, deliberate scrape.Metal against glass.
It’s not going to be an explosive breach but rather they’re counting on me being sound asleep, and they’re going to cut through the window.
The sound is methodical, patient, and far more terrifying because of it.I grip the corner of the wall until my fingers ache, willing myself not to move, not to breathe too loudly.
The scraping stops.
There’s a muted pop and I can’t help myself.I peek around the corner to see a dark shape rise against the window.A hand sneaks through a round hole, efficiently releases the latch.The window slides upward silently and the man comes through, swinging one leg over the sill and dropping inside in a crouch.He wears dark clothing that absorbs the dim light, his face covered in a black mask.His movements are practiced and economical, weapon already drawn as he scans the room.
He’s a professional, same as Cole, but his mistake is in thinking he’s entering an unprotected home.
