Shopping had gone smoother than Brian expected, especially with the boys being a little itchy after their haircuts. The only time either of them let go of the trolley was when Brian asked them to grab something off the shelves and place it in the cart.

  Before heading to the checkout, they went back to the chocolate aisle. The twins were practically bouncing on their toes. "Okay. One chocolate each. You have to the count of five to collect it. Ready?"

  "Ready, Daddy."

  "One." Brian stopped himself from laughing when both boys let go of the trolley and raced to the shelves.

  "Two." Brian wasn't surprised when they reached for the same type of chocolate bar.

  "Three." They were back, and Brian had two Violet Crumbles in his trolley. Of course, the boys liked the fact it was honeycomb as well as chocolate. They would certainly be bouncing off the walls later. Brian suspected they liked it so much because it was one of the largest chocolates on the shelf.

  "You two can have half after lunch and the other half tomorrow, okay?" Too much sugar in one day would be detrimental to Brian's mental health.

  "Okay, Daddy." The boys frowned at the pronouncement but didn't argue, for which he was grateful.

  "All right. Let's get these groceries paid for, fill the car up, and go home. How's that sound?" He turned the trolley, and the three of them headed to the checkout.

  "Daddy, I'm hungry," Sammy said.

  "Me too," Dylan agreed with his brother.

  "I know, guys. Just hold on until we get home and I'll make you some lunch. What do we feel like today? Vegemite, peanut butter, or toasted ham and cheese sandwiches?"

  "I want Vegemite!" Dylan announced as he jumped.

  "Peanut butter!" Sammy cried out, not to be outdone by his brother. Brian shook his head. It looked like he was making one of each, as he felt like having a toastie.

  The boys helped stack groceries on the conveyor belt, which always slowed things down, but they enjoyed helping, so Brian let them.

  Finally, the groceries were paid for and loaded into the back of the car. Sammy and Dylan were buckled into their seats, and Brian had the radio on low as he pulled out of the underground car park. The day was bright and sunny, making him blink after being in the dark.

  "Daddy, I'm hungry," Dylan said again.

  "I know, little man. I just need to stop for petrol, then we're going home." The fuel light had come on a couple of days ago. Brian had meant to fill up yesterday but had gotten distracted when Jason had called him. He had completely forgotten about it. Knowing his luck, if he didn't do it now, he'd run out halfway home and have to call Marcus to rescue him.

  That had already happened once, and although Brian liked the eventual outcome of that meeting, the last thing he wanted was to be stranded with his boys in the car.

  The United service station wasn't far down the road. Brian pulled in under the massive shade and stopped beside a bowser. He switched the car off, then turned to face the boys.

  "Now, you two behave in here, please. I'll be just outside if you need me. I'll only be about five minutes, then we'll go home and have some lunch."

  "Okay, Daddy," they chorused.

  Brian grinned and blew them kisses. He popped the lever for the fuel cap and removed the keys. Brian locked the car after he closed the door. He wasn't about to crack any windows, as he didn't want the overwhelming scent of fuel in his car with the boys. He also wanted the boys to be safe when he went inside to pay.

  Some of the bigger cities had pumps that you could swipe your credit card at and drive right off without even talking to anyone. Leyburn was a relatively small town, and Brian liked the fact that most businesses prided themselves on customer interaction.

  Brian grabbed the unleaded hose and started pumping, looking behind him when he felt like someone was watching him. He'd been feeling that way more and more lately. Brian couldn't see anyone, so he figured it was his imagination. He tapped on the back window and poked his tongue out at Sammy. The boys laughed. Brian pulled silly faces and ducked below the window only to jump up again. Sammy and Dylan's howls of laughter warmed his heart. Yeah, he really thought he'd like to do this again, maybe a little girl this time.

  When the tank was full, he closed the lid, grabbed the watering can in between bowsers, and rinsed off the side of his car. He blew his boys a kiss and headed inside.

  There were three people in line before him, and another grabbing a cold drink from the fridge, so Brian joined the end of the queue, patiently waiting his turn. He kept an eye on his car through the front window, making sure the boys were okay.

  An older lady finished her transaction and walked out. The next person in line stepped up to be served. Brian turned his attention back inside at the sound of a sharp indrawn breath.

  At the front of the line, a guy wearing a grey hoodie and glasses had pulled a knife on the attendant. He pulled a gun out of his other pocket and swung around to face the others in line.

  "On the ground now!" he screamed, his voice sounding unhinged to Brian.

  Brian didn't hesitate; he dropped where he stood. Sammy and Dylan were right outside, and he wasn't about to do anything stupid. He needed to get back to them in one piece.

  The man swung around to face the attendant with both weapons. Even though the majority of service stations had wires running horizontally above the counter to the roof to stop people from getting to the attendants, they wouldn't stop a bullet or a knife if thrown.

  "Empty the register," the man said. He kept the gun pointed at the attendant. With the knife still in his hand he picked up as many chocolate bars as he could and shoved them into his pockets.

  The guy kept looking over his shoulder to check on the other customers. Brian turned when he heard the woosh of automatic doors opening. The man swung around, and the woman who had just walked inside screamed at the sight, then turned and bolted back through the still open door.

  The robber took a couple of steps towards the door, started cursing and muttering to himself, then turned back to the counter.

  The attendant had placed a few bills on the counter.

  "What's this?" the robber asked.

  "You wanted me to empty the till. That's it." The attendant nodded to the notes he'd pulled out.

  "What do you mean, that's it? Where's all the big stuff?"

  "In the safe."

  "Well, open the fucking safe, then."

  "I can't."

  "What the fuck do you mean, you can't open the safe?"

  "I mean it's time-delay locked and will only open at a certain time of day, and now is not it."

  The robber cursed up a blue streak. Brian didn't like the way he was acting. His hand shook, and Brian wondered if the guy was high as a fucking kite.

  The robber snatched the notes and turned, pointing the gun at the people on the floor. Brian squinted. Something about the gun looked funny to him. Living with Marcus for the last four or so years meant he'd unfortunately been in the presence of more than one gun. Thankfully, Australia had some pretty awesome gun control laws. That wasn't to say people still didn't find ways to get their hands on what they wanted—case in point, the man standing over him now.

  "Empty your pockets."

  No one moved. The lady in front of Brian shook so badly Brian was scared she might be having a fit.

  "Now!" the robber screamed.

  Brian scrambled to do as he was told. God, he hoped someone had called the cops. He had to get back to Dylan and Sammy. They'd be going nuts in the car by themselves.

  Marcus and Paul Mearns, his partner on the police force, hadn't stopped since they'd arrived at work that morning. The day started with a teenage boy who had been paying too much attention to the pretty girls instead of where he was riding and had been hit by a taxi. Thankfully, neither the boy or the taxi driver were badly injured. Marcus and Paul still had to wait at the hospital for an official medical diagnosis, though.

  As soon as they finished there, Marcus was called to the local news agency that reported a rock thrown through their front window.

  The highlight of his morning had been the pictures Brian sent of their boys. He couldn't believe how fast they were growing up. Almost too fast. If he weren't careful, he'd blink, and they'd be fully grown and going off to uni. Marcus had been thinking lately that he wouldn't mind a little girl. He had yet to broach the subject with his mate, though. Brian already did so much with the boys. The last thing Marcus wanted was to add to his mate's already full schedule. But a little girl with Brian's green eyes and blonde hair would be cute as a button.

  Marcus held back a grin as Paul moaned in relief when they finally got five minutes to themselves back at the station. Marcus unwrapped the lunch they'd picked up on their way, and the scent of the roast pork, mashed potato and gravy roll he'd bought made his mouth water. He was about to take a bite when Jeanie, their receptionist and first point of contact for incoming phone calls to the station, ran up to them.

  "Don't say it," Marcus groaned.

  "Robbery in progress down at the United service station," Jeanie said, not looking the slightest bit repentant.

  Paul swore before he took a bite of his lunch, then dropped it on the wrapping paper and stood. Marcus looked at his own food forlornly. He plucked up the large piece of crackling that came with his roll and shoved it in his mouth. He didn't give a shit how loud he was crunching that morsel of heaven as they made their way out of the station. Marcus checked his weapon, even though he hated having to use it. Paul did the same thing before they climbed back into their car, turned on the lights and sirens, and took off like a bat out of hell.

  Thankfully the police station was fairly central to the town, so it didn't take them long at all to get where they were heading.

  Marcus's stomach dropped and his breath caught as they came in sight of the United. He'd recognise his burnt-orange RAV4 anywhere. Brian was here. And if Brian was here that meant his boys were here as well.

  "Paul," Marcus said through gritted teeth. His inner wolf already clawed at him to be released at the mere thought of his family in danger.

  Paul eyed him quickly as he pulled up and stopped the car. People interested in what was taking place inside milled about. Idiots.

  "What?"

  "That's my car." He nodded to the RAV4. Paul swore a blue streak. Yeah, Marcus's thoughts exactly.

  Brian?

  Oh thank god, Brian replied through their link. Marcus, the boys. You have to get to the boys.

  As soon as Marcus opened his car door, he could hear Dylan and Sammy's screams. There were a couple of people standing around the car; one of them looked like they were planning on breaking the window.

  I'm on it. Are you hurt?

  No, we're all fine in here.

  Okay, sit tight for a minute.

  Love you.

  Love you too.

  Thankfully, Brian had parked under the massive roof over the bowsers, so it wasn't very hot, and the weather wasn't anywhere near as hot as it could get at the height of summer.

  "Step back, please," Marcus and Paul said as they quickly made their way to the RAV4. Marcus dug into his thigh pocket and pulled out his set of keys and unlocked the doors.

  "Dad," the boys cried, as he opened the back door.

  "Hey, buddy," Marcus said. "You okay back here?"

  The boys sniffled at him. Marcus reached in and wiped Sammy's face while Paul saw to Dylan. "Everything's okay. Daddy was just delayed for a little bit, okay? I'm going to go grab him now."

  "'Kay."

  "Do you really think that's wise?" Paul asked Marcus.

  Marcus didn't care if it was wise or not. Whoever this was had put his mate and kids in danger. Marcus was about to show him why that was a very, very bad idea.

  What can you tell me, baby? Marcus sent to Brian.

  Seems to be high. He's wanting money. Is currently making us empty our pockets, as he didn't get enough from the till.

  How many of you are there inside?

  Three customers, including me, plus one worker and the robber.

  Great. Is he armed?

  A knife and a gun, but the gun looks funny to me.

  Funny how?

  I don't know. I can't put my finger on it, but it looks different.

  Okay, thanks baby. See you in a minute.

  Marcus felt Brian's tension drain away at his words. A robber armed with a knife and a funny-looking gun. Marcus could deal with those odds.

  "Do you want me to call for backup?" Paul asked him.

  "Might be a good idea, just in case, but hopefully this shouldn't take long." Marcus quickly glanced around to see if they could be overheard. "Brian says there are a total of five people inside, and the robber seems to be high and armed with a knife and a funny-looking gun."

  Marcus looked back inside the car to his boys, who'd thankfully stopped crying, although their faces bore the remnants of their tears.

  "I'll be back in a minute, guys."

  "No, Dad! Don't go, please." Sammy reached out for him, trying to hold him in place. Marcus took his son's little hand in his and brought it up to his cheek.

  "I need you two to be brave for me please, just for a minute. Paul is going to call Uncle Alex to come down here, okay?" Marcus looked at his partner who was already stepping away from the car with his phone to his ear. "I need to go get Daddy and make sure he's safe. Uncle Alex will be here with you shortly. Until then, listen to what Paul tells you."

  "But Dad," Dylan complained.

  "No buts, little man. I'll be back soon. Be good, okay? I'm counting on you two." Marcus leaned in and gave each of his little guys a kiss. Reaching over to Dylan was a tight squeeze, but he made it work. Sammy giggled when Marcus had to squish past him.

  Reassured that Sammy and Dylan were okay, Marcus checked himself. Vest, belt, gun, radio, cuffs, and spray were all in place.

  "Alex is on his way."

  Marcus nodded his thanks to Paul.

  "I've already called it in," Paul said as Marcus walked past him.

  Marcus put his hands up and turned to the people milling about. Some of them had phones out, recording the action. Others were trying to see through the shop's tinted windows.

  "Please step back," he told the bystanders. The last thing he wanted was an innocent person to be hurt.

  Marcus turned back toward the shop, hands still raised in the air so the robber could easily see they weren't anywhere near his weapons. The problem with this service station was the windows all had dark tinting on them to stop the glare from the afternoon sun. It allowed customers to look outside but not in.

  Protocol dictated that they try to make contact via telephone through the business or residence with the suspect and see if they could talk them down. Then and only then could they assess the situation and enter if deemed safe.

  Marcus's wolf went crazy at the idea of him waiting any longer to get inside and check on his mate. His animal was on the verge of going feral and sending Marcus into his shift. Marcus clenched his jaw, all his muscles going tight as he breathed through his nose, trying to hold his wolf at bay. There was no way he would be able to hold it back if he waited much longer.

  Protocol be damned. If he got in trouble for this, so be it. "I'm coming in, don't shoot," Marcus yelled.

  The doors swished open as he cautiously approached them, and Marcus stepped inside. His gaze went immediately to his mate, relieved to find Brian in one piece, lying on the floor. His animal calmed slightly but still had his hackles raised at the idea his mate was in danger. Glancing at Brian only took a second, then Marcus turned his attention to the suspect. His eyes were sallow and crazed. His hands shook, one of them holding a gun and the other a plastic bag to collect the contents of the few people's pockets.

  The robber immediately pointed the gun in Marcus's direction. Marcus wondered where the knife Brian had told him about was. Marcus eyed the offending gun, then snorted. No wonder Brian thought there was something funny about the weapon. It wasn't real. It wasn't a bad copy, but not the best he'd seen either. Marcus immediately calmed, knowing the likelihood of anyone being harmed had just been significantly reduced with his discovery.

  "Who are you? What do you want?"

  "My name is Detective Marcus Holland. What's yours?"

  The robber hesitated before finally responding. "Leon."

  "Well, Leon, why don't you put your weapons down, and we can sort this out? I really don't want to have to hurt you."

  Marcus could easily take this guy. He was no match in either height or weight. But Leon was high, and there was no way to tell what he was capable of. The last thing Marcus wanted was for someone to be injured while he attempted to apprehend this guy. He'd try to talk him down first, and if that didn't work, there was always plan B to fall back on.

  "Hurt me? I'm the one with the gun!" Leon sounded desperate, on edge, and Marcus didn't like it.

  "Your gun is a fake, unlike mine." Marcus placed his hand on his holstered weapon but didn't draw it.

  "I knew there was something funny about the gun," Brian said from the floor.

  Leon turned to Brian and screamed. "Shut up!"

  He kicked Brian and caught him in the ribs. Brian cried out and curled up on himself. Tears sprang to his eyes. Marcus growled and took a menacing step forward. His wolf went crazy inside him, demanding he be let out to deal with this lowlife immediately for daring to touch their mate.

  "I suggest you don't do that again if you'd like to walk away from this."

  Leon threw his gun down and pulled his knife from the pocket of his hoodie. A couple of chocolate bars spilled onto the floor.

  You okay, baby? Marcus asked through their link, needing reassurance his mate was all right.

  Yeah, I think so. May have broken a rib. The son of a bitch is wearing steel caps. Marcus glanced down and confirmed Brian's suspicions. Leon was wearing steel-capped boots. Bastard! Marcus's animal growled menacingly.

  "Everyone else okay in here?" Marcus asked. He got head tips and a thumbs up in response from the others on the floor. That was good at least. Leon hadn't hurt anyone else in what Marcus assumed was a drug-fueled need to get cash so he could buy more substances.