Overcome Read Online Free PDF Page A

use of crack when she really only wanted one of her pills.
    “Migraine.” She grunted and laid her head back on the headrest. A peculiar smell in the back did not mix well with the nausea.
    The car slid to a stop and the door jerked open beside her. “Migraine. Right. I think you took something. Inside.”
    When the hell, and how the hell, would she have been able to take something with her hands shackled? He grabbed her arm and wrestled her out into the blaring sunlight.
    Anna stumbled in front of his insistent push to the front door of the police station. She’d never seen the inside of one before, not that she’d see one now with half her vision being precluded by a dancing string of lights. She needed a pill and a dark room. Fast.
    “Did you get my purse?” she mumbled.
    “Yeah, lady, I got your purse.” He shoved her into a seat, and she promptly folded in half and rested her head on her knees, nearly tipping onto the floor. The station was loud and bright, and all she wanted to do was sleep. Her stomach said that wasn’t going to happen.
    It revolted. All over the floor to her right and the shiny shoes of Mr. Stern Face.
    “Fuck.” The shoes jerked backward. “Get one of the medics in here to look at this chick, would ya, Frank? She just puked all over me.”
    One of her finest moments. The best one would be when she laid down on the scuffed tile to take a nap because the floor was quickly coming up to get a closer look at her face.
    She moaned and curled into a ball on the cold surface, praying for release. Or relief. Or the gun of Mr. Stern Face to end her torment.
    •●•
    “What in the shit did you do our mate, Jackson?”
    Marc flipped a lock of hair off the cheek of their sleeping mate and smiled when she turned her face into his hand. A bruise had bloomed above her left eye, courtesy of Anna’s up close and personal meeting with the floor. They’d be lucky if she didn’t have a concussion on top of the migraine Jackson hadn’t believed she had. Behind him Colton questioned Daniel Jackson, part of their pack and the officer who had pulled over and falsely arrested—or brought in for questioning as he claimed—Anna for stealing her own car. Colton was looking into who had made the claim in the first place, though both of them felt it had to have been her ex, now known as Peter Belky.
    “Nothing, Alpha. I swear. She started looking sick in the car and said something about a migraine. I thought maybe she was on something. As soon as I got her into the station, she puked all over me and then just kind of fell over. I’m sorry, Alphas. I called you as soon as it happened, since she said she’d been talking to you.”
    Marc snorted, and with one more caress of his thumb over the knot on her forehead, stood and turned to Jackson. “You deserved to get barfed on, dumbshit. Didn’t your mama teach you better than to treat females with such disrespect?”
    “Yes, sir.” Jackson’s cheeks were ruddy with embarrassment. He fidgeted with his hat, ready to bolt at the word go. “I didn’t know she was your mate, Alphas.”
    “No one does. We just found her today.” Colton stepped closer to the couch.
    “And since we haven’t even spoken to her yet, you’ll do well to keep your mouth closed until further notice. Do we understand each other, Jackson?” Marc crossed his arms over his chest and begged Jackson to say anything other than yes.
    “Absolutely.”
    “Good. Now get out of here. Oh, and where’s her car?”
    Jackson stopped his quick retreat from the lieutenant’s office where they’d taken Anna to lay on the couch when she’d fallen off the chair, and swallowed. “Probably already at the pound. I called it in right after I stopped her for speeding and learned the car had been reported.”
    “Fine. We’ll take care of it.” William Shine ran the pound, and he was one of theirs. They’d have no problem retrieving Anna’s SUV. In fact he watched Colton pull his phone from his