Overcome (3 page)

“Ooh.” She jerked open the door, climbed in, and slammed the door shut. As she was backing out, she noticed Mr. Good Looking still standing in the same spot, staring at her. She rolled down the window on autopilot and yelled at him. “This isn’t settled. I
will
be back.” Her tires squealed when they hit the pavement, covering her muttered, “Right after I kill my ex.”

So much for being a nice little school teacher.

•
●•

A bad feeling sank like a dumbbell through thick mud into Colton’s stomach as he watched the whirlwind storm off before peeling out of his driveway. Or, at least, what he’d thought of as his driveway until about three minutes ago. The second he’d gotten out of his car he’d smelled her, gotten hard from the scent, and known exactly what she was to him. And to Marc.

At first he’d thought Marc had brought her home. But Marc’s car wasn’t in the drive, which meant he wasn’t home yet. Then he’d heard muttering from the backyard and headed to the lake side of their home, only to find his soon-to-be mate digging a hole in his yard.

“Fuck.” He ran a hand through his hair, and then turned and toed the burlap filled with a six-foot tree root ball. He didn’t know if he was more pissed about letting her go or wanting to kill her ex for her since he’d caused her so much pain. He guessed he shouldn’t worry about her leaving since he had a strong suspicion she wouldn’t back down about losing her house without a fight.

“You bought a tree? What, not enough mysteries to solve today, you thought you’d just plant a tree instead? In your suit?” Marc’s call from the deck overlooking the backyard and lake had Colton turning to face him.

He smiled and stalked up to the house, the sick feeling still well-entrenched in his gut. This house was his retreat. What he’d come to look forward to after dealing with the shittiness his job required. Being alpha of the entire race of shifters was much simpler than the things humans could and did do to each other. Not that shifters were innocent; they were simply handled in a different way.

He supposed he shouldn’t really worry about the house since the woman was their mate, and therefore, the house would actually always be hers. But, it would still be an issue until they could inform her of her future, not to mention convincing her to take the leap with them wouldn’t be a cake walk.

First things first, he had to let Marc know he’d met their mate. He and his half brother had bought the house knowing sooner or later they’d be sharing it with the one meant for them. He’d just never imagined his mate coming in the form of a shovel wielding, pissed off petite-framed pixie, but then what did it matter?

The thought brought another smile to his face.

“Yes, a tree. Thought we needed one right in that spot,” he said as he neared the four steps of the deck.

“Well, you’d think the nursery could send someone a little hardier to deliver it.” Marc’s eyes went wolf. “But fuck, she smelled insanely good. I swear I smelled her at the school today, and I know I’ve seen that ass.”

“She’s our mate.” They spoke at the same time. Colton did a double take and his gaze collided with Marc’s. “Wait, you’ve already met her and didn’t call me?”

“No, I said I smelled her. While I was teaching a class. But by the time I got the chance to hunt her down, she’d already gone. She’s the new teacher they hired to take over Cassandra’s spot in first grade. And I would have told you, but you haven’t been home the last two days, nor were you answering your cell.”

“You called me
once
.”

Marc shrugged. “Wasn’t anything to be done. She wasn’t there, and I didn’t want to jump to conclusions about her status until I had her in front of me in the flesh. Besides, you hate when I interrupt you. Rough case?”

Colton rubbed the back of his neck. “A murder. Got the guy to confess this morning. At least we’ll know where to find her,” he said, changing the topic back to their woman. “Don’t think doing so will be too hard, at least.” He stopped next to Marc at the railing and bent to rest his elbows on it. The small hole and the clump of earth next to it were clearly visible from their vantage point. The tree was the only thing keeping him from wondering if what had just happened had been some weird daydream. Not too often you find yourself mated to a woman you find planning to bury her ex in your backyard.

“So what was she doing in our yard?” Marc had a white-knuckle grip on the deck railing as if trying to prevent himself from going after her that very second.

“She said she was planting a tree, although it clearly sounded as if she wished she were planting a body.”

“Uh-oh. Who’d you piss off?”

“Not me, little brother.” Colton stood, crossed his arms over his chest, and rested his hip on the rail. “But we have a problem.”

One of Marc’s eyebrows rose. “And what would that be?”

“Seems our mate thinks this is her house.”

“My mortgage payment begs to differ, not that it matters since she can move in tonight, as far as I’m concerned. It’ll make things with us easier all around, don’t you think?” Marc took a similar pose, facing Colton, the sleeves of his navy T-shirt bunching beneath his biceps.

“I agree. However, she was apparently half owner through a divorce and didn’t seem to have any clue the property had been sold from underneath her. She was a mite pissed. And if she sees us as interlopers…”

“And the little fact we’re going to have a hell of a time convincing our little human she’s our mate. Wait a minute. Divorce? Half? But how could they sell a house without both owners being part of the sale?”

“Exactly.” Which is why the pit of despair remained nestled in Colton’s stomach.

“Doesn’t matter,” Marc repeated. “She can have the house. As long as we’re in it too.” He retreated inside. “I’ll even plant her tree.”

Colton followed, a grin on his face at the petulance of Marc’s demeanor. He took the bottle of Bud his brother offered from their refrigerator, plucked the cap off, and tossed it toward the trash.

“You can talk to her about it next Monday when you see her. I may have to stop by for some of that fabulous school lunch myself.”

They’d found her. He wasn’t about to let her get away.

His wolf agreed wholeheartedly, begging to be released so he could find her and make her theirs now.

He just wasn’t sure he could wait another week until he had a chance to see her.

Anna drove blindly, not even stopping to think about having to drive all the way to Kansas City to speak to her lawyer in person when she should just call him. She needed something physical to do anyway to keep her mind from wandering to the image of her choking him until his face turned tomato red and his eyes bulged. Rage seethed in her belly. The scoundrel. How in
hell
did Peter think he would get away with it? He wouldn’t. No way, no how. She had
not
signed any papers giving away her house. Wouldn’t have in a million years. Which meant the asshole had illegally signed it for her. She hoped he rotted in jail because she would most certainly be pressing charges. She’d known there was no way he would have just given her the house for nothing. The asshole had known all along it didn’t belong to her anymore. This was his way of getting back at her for, God forbid, divorcing him. You’d have thought she was the bad guy based on the look of shock on his face when she’d given him those papers.

As if.

Maybe she’d call Peter instead. Give him a piece of her mind before she saw him. Like how he’d sneakily and backhandedly sold her house out from underneath her and then, in his snide way, given her the keys just to rub it all in her face. She punched his number into her phone and then felt an instant wave of guilt for driving angry
and
using the phone. The anger exploded exponentially into blind rage when she got the well-known tones signaling a disconnected number.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” She threw the phone onto the passenger seat as she fishtailed onto the two-lane country highway. It bounced once, banked off the door panel, and thudded to the floorboards.

“Great. Goes right along with the rest of this crappy day. Probably broke the damn thing. And you’ll pay for a new phone too,
Peter.
”

She was so focused on her ex that she didn’t notice the police car pull out behind her and flip his lights on. It wasn’t until the siren sounded, scaring the crap out of her, that she saw him.

“Goddamn it.” Anna slapped the steering wheel and looked at her speedometer. Seventy-six. What was the speed limit anyway? Now on top of her homeless future, she had to deal with a speeding ticket. “Perfect.”

She pulled onto the shoulder and came to a stop, her jaw hurting with the force she put on her teeth. A glance in the rearview mirror revealed the stern-faced cop talking into a mic on his shoulder. Great. Didn’t look she’d be able to talk her way out of anything with Mr. Personality. Could the day get any shittier? How had she gone from new job and endless possibilities to wanting to kill Peter and speeding tickets?

Anna unbuckled, rolled down the window, and reached across the console to grab her bag off the floor. Might as well find her license, registration, insurance, and permission for her first born. The quicker she got through this, the quicker she could get to her lawyer. It’d be just her luck she’d get there and he’d be gone for the day already.

She was stupid. He’d definitely be gone. It was already four, and she wouldn’t make it back to Kansas City before five thirty.

The policeman got out of his car with, Anna noticed, his hand on his gun, and cautiously approached her door. She guessed she couldn’t fault him, having no idea who might be in her car. Still, it made her nervous. Sheesh. A lone woman caught speeding. She didn’t have a body in her trunk.

Though she wished she did.

“Step out of the vehicle, ma’am.”

Huh?
Anna whirled around and stared at him out the window. “Excuse me?”

“Step out of the vehicle.” He looked about as nervous as she was confused.

“If I was speeding, Officer, why do I need to get out?”

“Please, ma’am.”

For God’s sake.
She shoved the door open—probably not the wisest move—and stepped out.

“Place your hands on the car.”

“What is going on?” She turned as she said this and did as she was told, only to be grabbed by the wrist and have her arm pulled behind her back. She didn’t fully understand what was occurring until she felt the snick of metal around her wrist and the other arm brought back to join the first. “What in the world?”

“This car has been reported stolen, ma’am.”

“
It’s my car.
Look at the registration. It’s in my name.
And
the insurance.” Her heart raced in panic and confusion. This could not be happening.

“I’m sure it’ll all get sorted out down at the station.” His tone clearly said he didn’t believe her in the least.

“Since when do cops shoot first and ask questions later?”

“No one has shot anything.” He practically frogged marched her to his patrol car.

“You wanna get my purse at least then,
Officer
? I can’t very well plead my case without it, now can I?”

“No need for the attitude, ma’am.”

“There is when you aren’t even giving me a chance to prove it, mor…mister.” She wasn’t a complete idiot. Calling the man names would get her nowhere.

After stowing her in the back seat of his car like a common criminal, he went back to hers, dug around in the front, pulled out her purse, and locked the doors. Wasn’t that nice of him? She bit her lip to keep from commenting when he got behind the wheel and took off.

Confusion settled in her brain. One minute she’d been driving, the next she found herself under arrest.

“You didn’t even read me my rights.” Wasn’t there a law about that?

“You’re not under arrest.”

“Oh, really? Cuz handcuffing me sorta says, ‘hey lady, you’re under arrest.’” When would she learn to keep her mouth shut?

“Ok, you have the right to remain silent…”

Just flipping great.
Now she really did need to talk to her lawyer. After finishing his reading of the rights monologue, Mr. Stern Face drove in silence, the only sound being the occasional crackle of his radio and the beating of her heart in her ears.

She would not cry. No way, no how in hell. She would exploit her right to remain silent and do so with the Neanderthal.

Apparently her lips didn’t care about her decision not to comment because less than five minutes later she found herself saying, “Look, I left the nursery and started planting my maple tree in my backyard. Would I steal a car to plant a tree? No. I don’t think so. Then this Detective guy shows up and tells me he’s living in
my
house. If anyone’s stolen anything, it’s him. Not me.”

“Detective, huh? Which one?” He smirked at her in the rear view mirror. He didn’t believe her at all.

“I don’t know. He said his name was Detective…Ross? Cross? Albatross? Something like that.”

“Montross?” Suddenly his smirk turned into surprise, which left her wondering why.

“Yes. That’s it. Montross. He said that
my
house was
his
house, and I so wished my ex was standing right there at that moment because believe me I would have kil—never mind.”

“You would have what?”

“Nothing.”
Blathering idiot, Anna. You don’t tell an officer of the law that you would have gladly killed a man and buried him beneath your tree.

“No really, what were you saying? I can’t wait to hear it.”

She dropped her chin to her chest and cursed her loose lips. This was a disaster of epic proportions.

The sudden bloom of pain behind her right eye did not signal good things, either, nor did the squiggly line of light that sparkled in her vision a few moments later. No, no, no.

Now was so not the time for a migraine. That squiggly line would grow until she could see nothing out of that eye, and the only relief was her pills and a dark, quiet room. And her pills were in her purse being held captive by Mr. Stern Face. She highly doubted he’d give her one anyway without testing them first to make sure they weren’t pressed cocaine or something. So she sat still, closed her eyes, and willed her brain not to seize up on her while handcuffed in the back seat of a patrol car. Nausea roiled inside her belly, and she wondered how many other people had barfed on the fake leather.