Surrogate For Alpha Dom

Chapter 283: Zoom zoom

Sinclair

A crash sounds upstairs. The second one today. I groan and put my head in my hand, honestly not wanting to know.

“Dominic?” I hear my mate call, requesting my assistance. I press my eyes shut, ignoring her for just…just one minute. “Dominic!”

“Seriously,” Roger murmurs, looking towards the door. “What were you thinking, letting her put this insane plan into action?”

I drop my hand and glare at my brother. “Ask me that again when you’re mated,” I murmur, steeling myself as I head out of the room. Roger doesn’t say anything as I go, though I feel his eyes on me. I ignore it.

“Ella?” I call from the base of the stairs. The seat of her stairlift is at the top, so she must be up there.

“Dominic!” Her faint voice comes to me, sounding relieved. “Can you come help? I’m…stuck.” I sigh and pull myself up the stairs.

Three days. Three days she’s had her wheelchairs and her stairlift, and while I’m pleased to see her spirits raised, it’s been a nightmare for me. Three days of watching her zoom around, crashing into every thing I own. I’ve already imagined six thousand ways this could go wrong – Ella sliding off of the stairlift and tumbling down the stairs, Ella somehow miraculously managing to run herself over with the chair, Ella crashing through the banister and flying through the air like Evil Knievel… 1

And you’d think that I was kidding, or exaggerating, but…

As I get to the top of the stairs, I turn to see her wedged, somehow, behind a potted fern in the corner.

“How did you even…do this?” I ask, exasperated, as I walk over to her.

She gives me a bright, if embarrassed, little smile. “I don’t know,” she shrugs. “I just…went forward, and it was there…”

I sigh again – my three hundredth sigh of the day and lift the plant, freeing her. She zooms backwards in the wheelchair, grinding potting soil from the plant into my carpet as she goes. I sigh again. Three hundred and one.

“What are you even do-” I start, but she’s off already, waving to me as she heads down the hall towards our bedroom.

“Things to do!” she calls, waving over her shoulder. “Go back to work, I’ll catch up with you later!”

I shake my head, following her into the bedroom, eager to put a stop to this. “Ella,” I demand, striding in after her. “This has to stop – I’m going insane with worry –”

“What!” she exclaims, appalled, turning her chair in a little half circle so that she’s facing me. Why are you worried?”

hanging open a little with

her pouty little

shake my head. “Ella, in the past three days you’ve broken hundreds of dollars‘ worth of ceramics alone –”

waving a flippant hand. “We can buy new pots who cares about that

hand down my face, trying to figure out how to say

I continue, “baby, you’re the..you’re the worst wheelchair

at this! What are

I say

It’s so ridiculous. But I’m so grateful that

jealous,” she asserts, giving

don’t even know what to say. Jealousy… has not

up. “If I were bad at this, could I do this?”

one of the chair’s wheels off the ground. My stomach drops as I lurch forward, desperate to keep her from tipping over, but she just laughs at me as the chair rights

I gasp,

chair can’t tip over, it’s built

can manage it,” I caution,

shrugs. “So what? I’m fine.” She gives me a bright, happy smile, and I have to say it goes to my heart. It’s good to see her cheerful and engaged again. That’s

miserable she’s been. She thinks she hid it from me to let me go on with my work. But I noticed – of course I did, I could smell her misery on her, could feel it in my very bones. But I could also feel her pride every morning when she sent me off to start my

could, and

shake my head a little as I stare at her now, as she smiles up at me. My sweet, clever girl. How do I do

towards her. “Enough chair for the day… my nerves are absolutely at their end. Please.

step closer to her, intending to pick her up and carry her to bed. But

command board and

to watch her fly out of the room.

me,” she calls over her shoulder, “you’ll have to catch

myself after her, out into the hallway and to the top of the stairs where she’s already seated herself

her Ella gives a little half scream, half cry of laugher and delight, pressing the button on her stairlift frantically to make it go faster. Luckily, as it was built for the elderly, it has one speed: glacial. I catch

so that I’m even with her and pressing the emergency–stop button on the lift. Ella gives another little cry, laughing hard and

us like we’re crazy. But I ignore him, carrying my mate definitively into the bedroom and laying her down on the bed. When she’s settled I climb onto the bed as well, settling over her

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