40

I pace back and forth in the living room, my anxiety gnawing at me as each minute passes without any word from Bradley or anyone else. "It's been five fucking hours. What the fuck is happening?" I bark, unable to contain my frustration.

I keep rereading the texts that have been coming in over the past hour in our group chat, ‘Wattle Creek's Finest' .

Amelia had ‘hearted' Olivia's text, before sending one of her own.

Her message stirs an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach. I can only imagine the fear she must be also experiencing right now.

"Calm down, son. He's fine," Dad says, trying to reassure me, but his words fall flat.

"Xav, baby—" Isla starts, her hand resting on my shoulder, but I can't handle any comfort right now.

"No! Fuck! Please, don't tell me to calm down. I need to know where he is," I snap, turning away from Isla to face my sister, who sits on the couch, her eyes wide with unshed tears.

"Xavier!" Mum's reprimand cuts through the air, reminding me to control my temper, especially in front of Isla.

I turn back to Isla, the one person who's supposed to ground me, and see her shock. "Isla, I'm sorry. I'm just... fuck!" I exclaim, my fist colliding with the wall beside me, the impact making a noise but causing no real damage.

Instantly, I regret my outburst, especially seeing Isla hold her bump with another hand on her hip, watching me with concern in her eyes.

"It's okay, Xav. I understand, baby. He's fine. Bradley is amazing at his job," Isla reassures me, her words barely registering as questions swirl in my mind.

Why does he do this? Why does he put his life on the line every day? Why did he choose this path? Why couldn't he just stick to the farm? Then none of us would be here, worried sick about him.

Fucking hell, Bradley.

As I think this, the news reporter appears on the TV, reporting live.

"I'm standing about one-hundred-fifty metres away from this scene that continues to unfold. We have three casualties who have perished in the fire, fifteen still confirmed to be injured," and behind her, I can see the fires continuing to spread, but it's mentioned that firefighters and all units have managed to contain two house fires out of the three.

Her voice continues, loud and clear. "We currently have two police officers down." My heart drops.

No. Fucking no way.

He's fine. He has to be.

I mean, it's Bradley we're talking about here.

She continues, "In a heroic attempt, an officer and multiple firefighters managed to rescue a three-year-old girl who was trapped inside a room. The mother and eleven-year-old brother are both being treated, and the forty-four-year-old male, who was seen with the young girl, is being rushed to emergency, in critical condition."

My breathing quickens, and then she announces that, "The two officers that were down are conscious and are being treated at the scene."

Relief washes over me, yet it's still not confirmed who these officers are. I pull out my phone and send my brother a text.

The bond I share with Bradley knows no limits. Despite our differences, we're alike in many ways. I find myself wondering how well I truly know him. He's always been the quiet, moody type, lost in his own thoughts. As I shake my head, my mind wanders to Amelia. Glancing at Liv, I can't help but think about their situation. It was surprising, yet not entirely unexpected.

They suit each other.

Isla steps toward me, and as I lock eyes with her, I pull my phone out to text Amelia. Bradley texted her number to me after we got off the phone earlier today to have… just in case. Even though I'd had it saved since she was already in the group chat, it was a thoughtful gesture.

My heart breaks for her. She belongs here, with all of us. Bradley would have wanted that. Yet, she's on her own, facing these uncertainties solo.

But having her here would raise too many suspicions, I reckon. It's messed up, considering she's practically family, being Liv's best friend and all.

Isla steps up beside me, her eyes scanning the message, their softness evident. Yeah, she's aware. When she noticed Bradley acting all strange—like, unusually happy and shit—she didn't waste a second before asking what was up, so I'd told her.

She's my wife; naturally, I share everything with her.

Isla understands the need for discretion, nodding in silent agreement before returning to the couch. Now, we simply wait, anxiously anticipating my brother's safe return home.

It's not a matter of if, but when .

He'll be back home soon.