Accidental Surrogate -Ella
“It’s been too long,” I mutter, twisting my fingers together with my eyes fixed on the hard iron door of the
bunker. I have one hand on Rafe’s little carrier as he sleeps peacefully beside the two uncomfortable
chairs that Cora and I dragged down the hall, wanting to be as close to the entrance as possible so that
we get news as soon as it comes.
“Ella,” Cora seethes through her teeth. “You have got to stop saying that. You’re making me freak out.”
“It’s not me that’s making you flip out,” I retort, angry. “It’s our idiot mates, who insisted on leaving here
four hours ago and haven’t called once to let us know that they’re all right -”
But then, as if my words are magic, the door bangs open and Cora and I instantly leap up from our
seats.
I gasp, almost breaking into tears when I see that the first figure through the door is my mate. I hurl
myself towards Sinclair, intent on wrapping him in my arms, but I come to a skidding stop as I realize
that he’s carrying one of his men, unconscious and bloody and
“Oh my god,” I gasp, my hands flying to my mouth as I stop and actually look at my mate 1 notice the
burns that have ripped through his clothes, leaving red welts across his exposed skin
Notice the horrible burned flesh of the man in his arms –
Sinclair’s eyes linger on me for half a longing second before moving sharply to my sister. “Cora,” he
gasps, “help – it’s bad -”
She rushes to him in a moment, assessing the soldier, but Sinclair jerks him away, shaking his head.
“No, Cora,” he insists, making her look up at him. “We need – we need space them-” all of
I gasp again, horrified now as I understand what my mate means, as I see my sister’s face go pale. But
she snaps immediately into her professional demeanor, looking to me.
“Ella?” she snaps. “You’re my nurse now, all right?”
“Y-yes,” I hurry to agree, eager to help and reaching down to grab Rafe’s carrier and sling it over my
right arm.
“Your largest room,” she demands, turning her attention back to Sinclair. Then she turns, pointing down
the hall. “Go, now.”
As Sinclair begins to move, more of the men begin to stumble through the door. The hall is immediately
filled with the sound of pain – moans, and groans, cries –
But to her credit, Cora doesn’t look back, storming forward, ready to get things prepared. I can’t help
myself from turning towards the injured men who stumble through the door, my attention immediately
going to the red- haired young man the one who spoke in the meeting, who noticed that my attackers
didn’t shift as he falls hard against the wall, gasping.
I move to him immediately, working to sling his arm around my shoulder, taking as much of his weight
as I can. Lean on me,” I demand, beginning to move forward as I feel his body shift hard against mine.
It’s heavy,
struggling under his weight, trying to also balance Rafe’s carrier against my other arm, hoping to hell
that he doesn’t collapse against me and squish the baby when we both fall –
But we make it – following the men who can walk by themselves through the door into what looks more
like a
barracks than the small private bedroom that Sinclair and I have to ourselves. I look around swiftly and
see my mate settling the man who cannot walk into a single bed and, seeing other men taking seats on
bed and chairs around the room, I move the young man on my shoulder to the closest bed, holding
steady while he takes his weight off of me and collapses there.
“Are you all right?” I ask, leaning over him, worried
“I’ll be fine,” he groans, waving a hand at me. “It hurts but it’s nothing bad – thank you, Luna,” he
murmurs, leaning his head back against the pillow and squeezing his eyes tight in pain.
I nod to him, making a mental note to come check again soon, but I can’t help myself from moving
swiftly away, holding my baby’s carrier in two hands now as I hurry over to my mate who is standing
now, talking briskly to Cora.
“Are you all right?” I gasp, unable to stop myself from pressing myself up against him and raising a
hand to touch his scorched cheek.
“I’m fine, Ella,” Sinclair assures me, turning his intense gaze to me for one long, lingering second,
clearly relishing the sight of me before he turns his eyes to Rafe, who cries a little in his carrier. Sinclair
lingers, looking at his son, for just for a moment before looking over to the door. “I’m sorry,” he says,
rushed, “I have to go help -”
“Of course,” I say, touching Sinclair lightly on the arm and urging him forward.
But, quick, urgent, Cora stops Sinclair by grabbing his hand. He turns to her, torn, wanting to go and
help his men but –
“Roger,” she breathes, her eyes worried.
“He’s fine,” Sinclair replies, brisk, looking steadily into her eyes for a split second. “He’s out helping
some of the worst hurt get out of the cars -”
“Okay,” Cora says, her voice shaking as she exhales a deep breath and stands for a moment with her
eyes closed, collecting herself. “Okay.”
And then, the moment passed, Cora’s eyes fly open again and she’s all business. She nods her chin
towards the door, urging Sinclair forward, and he moves quickly away. Then she turns to me. “I need
you to start moving clockwise around the room,” she says, a calm efficiency setting over her. “You call
out to me if anyone looks like they need me desperately – otherwise, you ask each man his name and
what’s wrong. Take notes,” she says, looking around and then grabbing a pen and pad of paper off a
little bookshelf.
“Okay,” I exhale, and as I take the writing materials from her I realize that my hands are shaking.
“Hold it together, sis,” Cora says quietly, stepping close to me for a moment and taking my face in her
hands, looking at me steadily. “You’ve got this. All right?”
I nod to her, anxious, and then we both move at once, her left and me right, to begin to help.
Time passes in a flash as I move from man to man, asking each what they need, getting it for them if
it’s in my power but otherwise writing down what each man says before moving to the next. The only
thing that interrupts my attention is Cora’s brief cry – just once as Roger comes into the room. He, too,
is carrying a soldier who cannot walk and Cora is at his side in a second.
There’s a brief moment, after Roger gets the man to a bed, where Cora kisses him, pressing her body
flush against his, but then it’s done –
My sister is the doctor again, ready to care, to help –
And I’m so grateful for her in that moment that I can barely breathe. And as I look at Roger’s face as he
takes a second to watch her, I know that he feels precisely the same.
As I turn to the next man in my rotation, I feel a little hope swell in me, so glad that Roger and Cora
found each other. Because the four of us, as a team? We can do this. I have so much faith that we can.
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