A/N: Forever love and gratitude to Aimee and Blue for their superlative beta skills. Their support and encouragement is invaluable every week.
Massive thanks again to everyone who liked, followed, reviewed and tweeted feedback. Every single one means the world. Please keep those reviews coming.
Finally, keep safe everyone. Stay at home, stay strong!
Jo x
Battling Fate
Chapter 21
Being a corporate lawyer in New York was not a job for the faint-hearted or weak-willed. To service some of the biggest corporations you had to deal with some of the biggest names in the world, and with that, some of the biggest egos.
Money, lots of money, meant power. It also tended to go hand in hand with an indulgence in eccentric behaviour.
In the nearly twenty years that Louis Litt had worked as a corporate lawyer, he was pretty sure he'd seen and heard everything. As well as the normal mergers and acquisitions, hostile takeovers, bankruptcies and liquidations he'd also had to handle some of the most difficult clients with the most bizarre needs. He might have a reputation within the firm for somewhat histrionic and bordering on unprofessional behaviour, but when it came to his clients, he was not only a pit bull, he was also discreet and unfazed by anything they threw at him.
Until today.
Today his client had sat in front of him and told him a tale that made his pulse race, his palms sweat and his throat run dry. He'd never felt like this before. Not when Penny Marconi called him up in a panic after her husband had been arrested for punching the incumbent mayor at a party she'd hosted, or when Lucas Hoye had listed 80% of the shares he owned in his father's winery, on eBay for $1 after losing a bet with his frat mates. Hell, he wasn't this fazed when Didi Cummings insisted he facilitate the purchase and transportation of a giraffe for her daughter's private zoo. He'd handled all of those situations unperturbed and with equanimity.
This was different. His heart was racing, not because of the situation at hand but because of the client that had brought it to him. She sat staring at him with wide eyes and a look of genuine concern.
"Louis? Are you okay?... talk to me."
Louis nodded slowly and he placed his palms on his desk, taking a deep breath before answering her question.
"So… Let me get this right. The guy that you invited to the wedding as your plus one, was actually in league with Charles Forstman and an organised criminal gang headed up by the Karimov Brothers. He kidnapped you, arranged to have your father almost killed and then threatened you, Harvey and Mike. You witnessed him murdering the elder of the Karimov brothers, you then shot him in self-defense, killing him, then Harvey confessed to that shooting, but you have now turned yourself into the FBI and have provided fabricated evidence to show that Harvey only confessed because he'd lost his mind."
"I think that pretty much covers it, yeah."
"Jesus Christ, Donna. Are you sure that's all?"
"Isn't that enough?" she replied with a timid smile.
Louis shook his head as he tried to digest her fantastical story. He knew that something serious had happened. He'd suspected as much the moment Donna left so abruptly from the wedding. Then, when she'd taken emergency leave, followed not long after by the absence of both Harvey and Samantha, he'd immediately taken to locking horns daily with Robert, trying to ascertain what the fuck was going on.
"Why did no-one fill me in on what the hell was happening?" he said, the hurt clearly evident in his features.
"Louis, there was nothing you could have done at the time. The less people involved, the safer for everyone."
"You mean you didn't think I could handle it," he said, quickly nodding, his eyes filling with unshed tears.
"Louis, that's not true. I went to Samantha because I needed someone who not only had an extensive network of investigators, but who would also be prepared to skirt around the law if required," she said gently.
"And you couldn't go to Harvey because of how things were between the two of you," he all but whispered.
Donna swallowed and nodded slowly in response. Her expression was full of sorrow.
"You still haven't told me what happened between the two of you. Apparently, you weren't able to trust me with that either," Louis added. He didn't say it with any malice, just a deep sense of sadness.
Donna pursed her lips and closed her eyes before speaking. "I kissed Harvey. He was with Paula, and I kissed him and he… he got really, really mad about it."
Louis's eyes widened and his mouth fell open. "Oh my god."
Donna continued. "That's what happened, Louis. And you're right. I should have told you. You were there for me throughout that whole period and I should have talked to you about it. You are a wonderful friend to me, Louis, and I'm sorry."
Louis's bottom lip wobbled and he nodded again, looking away slightly. "I could have helped, you know. With the blackmail—"
"I promise you, there is nothing you could have done. But I do need you now, Louis. It's why I'm here, asking for your help."
Louis looked back at Donna then, and he straightened in his chair, crossing his hands in front of him. "You want me to represent you?" he asked, his tone serious.
"Yes. There is every chance that I might be charged with third-degree or even second-degree murder."
Louis paled, and he swallowed nervously as he took a moment to digest that frightening possibility.
"Why me, Donna?" Once again he spoke without any petulance, but with genuine curiosity. He knew that Donna valued him as a friend and cared for him deeply, but with the exception of a financial matter, there were several attorney's he'd assumed she would have turned to before him.
Donna tilted her head slightly as she mustered the right words. "Harvey can't represent me, for obvious reasons. Samantha is already assigned as his attorney which would cause a conflict of interest. I could ask Mike, Rachel, or Robert, but honestly, I want you. I trust you, Louis. I trust that you will fight for me if needed, and that you will leave no stone unturned, and you'll do so without ever compromising the law." She paused as she took in Louis's expression. He was blinking rapidly, the emotion clearly evident on his face as he listened to her words. "I need you," she added firmly.
He nodded solemnly. "Then I am, of course, at your service… I am yours to command, M'lady" he said with a quiver to his voice.
Donna smiled warmly at him. "Thank you, Louis."
She stood up to leave, straightening down her skirt and leaning over to pick up her handbag.
"Where are you going?" Louis asked with a startled frown.
"I have a train to catch. I'm going to go and visit both my parents. My Dad is still in hospital and I've been avoiding my Mom all week. It's time to face the music," she said with a light chuckle.
"You'll do no such thing. You're not done here. I need you to run through everything with me again but this time I need all the details. So sit your ass the fuck down," Louis snapped, in that typical Louis way.
"Louis!"
"I mean it, Donna. If I'm going to represent you I need to know everything, so your parents are going to have to goddamn wait. You can skype them in an hour when we take a ten-minute prunie break. Now sit!"
"What happened to you being mine to command?" Donna said, hand on her hip.
"Lawyer talk," he retorted.
"I don't think any other lawyer talks like that, Louis." Donna quirked an eyebrow.
"Of course they don't. Other lawyers don't have the wit, power, charisma, and intelligence of Louis Litt. Now sit."
Donna bit her lip, hiding the smirk that had crept on her face. She sat herself down though, placing her bag back on the floor.
Louis watched her with a sense of relief. Throughout the whole time that Donna had been in his office, recounting the horrific events of the last week, he had been struck most by how altered she had seemed. Yes, the sequence of events that she had chronicled had been shocking, but what had disturbed him the most was her general countenance. Her spark was gone. Her usual spirit and energy was lacking. There was no essence of 'Donna'. It was as though he was looking at an imperfect copy, a mere shell of his normally bright and bold, treasured friend. Having heard her sorry tale, of course he'd acknowledged and understood that she had suffered immeasurably. He didn't doubt that her ordeal would have mentally scarred her, yet he still sensed that her current demeanor wasn't solely down to her kidnapping and the trauma she had suffered at the hands of Samuel Lang. If anything, as he took in her haunted expression and the smile that failed to reach her eyes, he was reminded instead of how she had looked in those last few weeks before Mike and Rachel's wedding.
Louis opened his desk drawer and took out his dictaphone, switching it on and placing it between them.
"Okay, Donna. Start again from the beginning."
"You know, you're gonna wear a hole in the floor, if you keep pacing like that."
Harvey halted and threw a ferocious look at Samantha, his eyes blazing with fury. She instantly threw her hands up in surrender, not wishing to poke the bear any further. The last hour had been tumultuous enough. She'd spent most of the time trying to pacify Harvey as best she could, having to actually step in between the man in question and his boy wonder on one occasion when the situation almost came to physical blows.
The moment she had relayed the news Gutierrez had given her, all hell had broken loose. Harvey had been incensed. He'd ranted and raved at her, demanding to know what the hell Donna had done exactly, and when Samantha couldn't give him any further answers, having only had a brief update from the FBI, he had turned that rage on Mike.
He'd insisted that the three of them go straight to the FBI field office in Manhattan and he'd ordered Mike to back up his story again in a bid to dismiss and counteract whatever Donna had gone in there and said.
Only this time, Mike had refused. As far as he was concerned, the damage was done. Yes, they needed to speak to Gutierrez and find out where they all stood, but there was no point trying to fight Donna's actions. The cat was out of the bag, the truth had been outed, they just needed to move on from it and come up with a plan to ensure she was exonerated from any possible charges.
That was the point that Harvey had almost swung for Mike. Samantha suspected that he'd realised with a spike of fear that the situation was likely out of his control, and his wingman had abandoned him. She'd tried to placate him, assuring him that they would speak with Gutierrez. They would deal with it, but the sense of betrayal was etched into his features. Mike sensed it too, and he'd wisely decided that it would be best if just Harvey and Samantha went to the FBI. His former mentor was bubbling with anger and hurt, and Mike determined a bit of space between them might be the best course of action. He'd feigned needing to visit Cahill, in order to disclose what they'd really done with the funds laundered for the Karimov's, and so, they'd parted ways in the grounds outside Danbury prison.
Harvey had seethed in the car, all the way to Federal Plaza. His fists had been clenched, knuckles white, his knee bouncing impatiently as Ray weaved his way through New York traffic. She'd tried to venture a few words to ease some of the tension in the car, but he'd bitten her head off both times. As tempted as she'd been to slap him back down, she'd refrained. In this circumstance, he wasn't her managing partner, he was her client, and she needed to handle him carefully.
They'd been waiting to see Gutierrez for only about ten minutes. The Special agent had been busy on a call when they'd arrived, no doubt trying to coordinate with his partner and team over the intelligence they'd obtained from Murati and Hasanov. She desperately hoped that the information they'd provided, produced the result they wanted, and watching Harvey now, she also hoped that it happened very soon. They needed it if they had any chance of solving this shit fest.
"Harvey, when he gets here, I need you to let me do the talking."
"No way," Harvey snapped.
Samantha huffed with frustration. "You know how this works. I understand that you are angry but Mike was right, the damage has been done. I need to establish exactly what she has told them to see how it implicates you, and you can scowl at me all you like, but you know I'm right."
"I don't give a fuck how it implicates me. I just need to undo whatever it is she's done."
"Well it's a good thing that I'm here then, because as your attorney, I need to protect your interests. Until we know exactly what's in her statement, anything you say could have severe consequences for you both. So, you need to keep that smart mouth of yours shut and let me handle this."
Harvey stopped pacing and his head dropped. He glared at Samantha, his jaw clenched, but he gave her a subtle nod. Samantha didn't doubt though, that while he had reluctantly agreed to her argument, she would need to keep him on a tight leash. His mood suggested that one wrong word and all reason would go straight out the window.
The door to the interview room opened and Agent Gutierrez stepped through. He glanced between the two lawyers and gave a nod of acknowledgement. He pulled out a chair to sit down, indicating that they should do the same.
"Thank you for coming in so quickly. This won't take long I promise," Agent Gutierrez flashed a brief smile before placing a manila folder on to the table.
"Is there any news from Agent Wade?" Samantha asked, eager to establish any developments before tackling the issue at hand.
"He's confirmed that they're on site. We should hear something soon," Gutierrez affirmed.
Harvey had started drumming his fingers on the table to no doubt demonstrate his impatience. Agent Gutierrez observed his body language and opened the folder in front of him, with a wry smile.
"Mr. Specter, I've no doubt that Miss Wheeler has informed you of the recent change of circumstances regarding your case."
Harvey just glared at the FBI agent as Samantha cleared her throat to speak. "I relayed your message that Donna Paulsen came in today and gave a statement that contradicted the one my client made to you, yes," she replied calmly.
Harvey's fists clenched and Samantha was aware that he was breathing more heavily. Thankfully, he still said nothing.
"Yes, she did," Gutierrez said. "She has declared to us that she was the one to kill Samuel Lang and apparently there is video evidence from the club to back this up," he added, eyeing Harvey carefully as he did so.
Harvey's eyes widened and a look of fear crossed his face.
"We haven't seen any video evidence," Samantha quickly asserted.
"No, but you were aware of its existence."
Silence fell in the room. Harvey's knuckles were now white and he grimaced as he watched Gutierrez command the room.
Gutierrez leant forward from his chair and narrowed his eyes at Harvey. "Look, Harvey, let's not waste anymore of each other's time. I know about Roman blackmailing you. I know that the current operation that my partner is overseeing in New Jersey is your strategy for getting out of that blackmail. I also know that if that plan comes to nothing, and our agents find nothing, you plan on perjuring yourself on the stand…"
Samantha opened her mouth to protest but Gutierrez lifted his hand up to halt her.
"I'm not recording this conversation, Miss Wheeler. This is just me, laying the cards on the table, as I see them." He turned back to Harvey. "You want to desperately clear Miss Paulsen and shine the light of scrutiny away from her, and back on to you. Well, I can't give you that, I'm afraid. Whatever you have come here to say or do to try and undermine the statement she gave will not work."
"Is that so?" Harvey said, his tone low and dangerously calm. Samantha sensed that he was a pressure cooker about to go off.
"We all know that she did it, Harvey," Gutierrez continued. "You know that I suspected as much, last time we sat in a room, just like this one. It's the reason that I made that deal with you. Well, we can't continue anymore under those false pretenses."
"Are you saying you are taking the deal off the table and you plan on charging my client for making a false statement?" Samantha interjected.
"No, Miss Wheeler. I am not."
Samantha frowned. "Then what are you saying?"
Gutierrez sighed as he took in the hostile and highly stressed form of Harvey Specter. He looked down at the file before him, before looking back at Samantha and then across to Harvey.
"We are satisfied that Miss Paulsen's statement is true, and correctly depicts the events at The Beaufort Club. We also expect that if any video evidence does come to light, it will support the chain of events that she described. Unfortunately, I cannot promise that Miss Paulsen will come out of this unscathed. She may be prosecuted. However, thanks to additional evidence that she supplied, we are satisfied that you did not knowingly give a false statement and as such, we will not be pursuing any criminal charges against you."
The colour drained from Harvey's face. "What?" he said as he sat up straight from his chair.
"What additional evidence?" Samantha asked, also alarmed.
Gutierrez bit the inside of his cheek and seemed to consider his next words carefully. "Let's just say that she provided documentation that questioned not only the validity of your statement, but also explained the reasons why you might have been mistaken in your recollection of events."
"What the fuck? What documentation?" Harvey bellowed.
"Harvey!" Samantha warned. Harvey was now red in the face, his features had hardened and he was glaring at Gutierrez. She lay a hand on his arm, casually reminding him that she would take care of this.
"If you have documentational evidence pertaining to my client, I insist that you disclose it," Samantha said. Whatever the FBI had that had made them satisfied to overlook any illegal wrongdoings on Harvey's part, they needed to see it. Firstly, she needed to make sure that whatever this document was didn't bite them in the ass further down the line. Secondly, if it was provided by Donna, it could have serious implications in her own defense case. Finally, Samantha knew that Harvey would not leave this room until he'd seen it.
Gutierrez sighed and he shook his head. "It doesn't matter. It gets you off the hook, okay? That's all you need to know."
"Bullshit! Show us the document...now!" Harvey glowered at the other man.
Gutierrez hesitated as he glanced once again between the two lawyers. Harvey clearly wasn't going to take no for an answer and Samantha merely tilted her head at him, silently communicating to him that he must surrender the document. He reached into the file and removed a white piece of paper, which he turned over and pushed across the table towards them.
Harvey snatched it up and began scanning his eyes across the words. His expression morphed from confusion, to consternation and he visibly paled. His mouth fell open and his eyes snapped back up to meet the resigned look of Gutierrez, as Samantha took the letter from him so that she too could read its contents.
"As you can see, Harvey, Dr. Beck is definitive in his diagnosis. Following your consultation with him, he makes it quite clear that he is confident in his assessment that you suffered the aftereffect of PTSD and you were therefore in no fit mental state to make that statement. We have therefore stricken it from the record."
"Who the fuck is Dr. B—"
"Can I have a moment with my client, Agent Gutierrez?" Samantha interrupted in an urgent bid to silence Harvey.
Harvey was shaking. He was glaring at Gutierrez, who in turn expelled a frustrated sigh at the lawyer's stubborn resistance. He leant forward and met Harvey's angry stare.
"Look pal, I'm being more than patient here because I know what you've all got caught up in and I accept that it's most likely through no fault of your own, but I've only got so much patience. Get your stories straight and let me go after the real bad guys, and don't let your ass spite your face. Take the out, Harvey!"
Harvey didn't budge, nor did he stop glaring at the FBI agent. Gutierrez shook his head and he looked back at Samantha.
"I'll give you a minute, Miss Wheeler. I need to check and see if there is any news from Agent Wade. Talk some sense into your client, will you?" he said as he gave her a knowing look and pushed himself out of his chair.
No sooner had he closed the door to the interview room than Harvey rounded on Samantha.
"What the fuck is this? This is utter bullshit. I don't know a Dr. Beck, and as far as I'm—"
"Of course it's bullshit, Harvey! I've no doubt Gutierrez knows it's bullshit too, but however Donna came by this document, it's on the record now so we just have to go with it," Samantha said in a hushed tone.
"Like hell we do!" Harvey flew out of his chair and began pacing the room again.
"Harvey! Just stop and think about this for one second will you?" Samantha snapped, her patience wearing thin. "Donna confessed. I know you hate it, but she's done it and you're just going to have to accept it. Gutierrez is right, you are not going to protect her by calling this document out as bullshit. You are just going to get her into even more trouble. If you state on the record that you've never even met a Dr. Beck, you immediately throw doubt on this document. Falsified evidence, Harvey! That guarantees she'll be in a whole load of shit, not to mention this Dr. Beck too, whom I can only assume is a friend of hers."
Harvey halted his movements and his eyes flashed up to meet Samantha's. She noticed a look of realisation befall his face. Instinct told her that it wasn't realisation at her words, but something else entirely that had seemingly occurred to him.
"What did you just say?" he asked, eyes wide.
She opened her mouth to respond but didn't get the chance as the door opened and Agent Gutierrez stepped back into the room. Samantha began to object at his premature return, but he held his hand up to halt her protestations.
"I'm sorry to interrupt, but I thought that you would want to know." He paused slightly and smiled. "Agent Wade has just called me. It looks like we won't need that deal with you after all, Harvey. You're off the hook. Your hunch was right and the information Murati and Hasanov came up trumps… They've just found a body."
Samantha took a deep breath. "Any I.D?"
Gutierrez nodded. "Yep. It's Glen Mathison."
Rachel had been pacing back and forth in Donna's living room for more than an hour. She was nervous. Nervous and worried.
She'd allowed herself to be cajoled again into letting Donna leave the apartment despite her conscience screaming at her to say no. She's sure if she had insisted, begged, hell, even shed tears, she could have stopped Donna from leaving.
However, she'd ignored her conscience, she'd dismissed the nagging voices of both Mike and Harvey in her ear, warning her that there would be hell to pay. She'd ignored them because her gut had told her something else. Her instincts had told her that Donna knew what she was doing. Call it fate, call it intuition, whatever it was, Rachel had a deep sense that if it was meant to be, it would be. Things would come right in the end. They had to. After everything that they'd been through and survived recently, she'd had this intrinsic belief that all would be okay.
Except, that was how she'd felt several hours ago when she'd reluctantly closed the front door on Donna's retreating form. Now, she wasn't so sure. Doubt had crept in. Donna had been gone too long. Much longer than she'd inferred she would be, although with a grimace, Rachel realised that Donna had never said, exactly how long she would be.
Rachel's previous optimism had been brushed aside by a sinking sense of apprehension and concern. Donna clearly had a plan, and whatever it was, Rachel was now sure that her friend had purposely kept her in the dark, because she expected her to put a stop to it. That didn't bode well at all. Rachel also suspected that whatever Donna was planning involved that envelope that Paula had delivered. She was sorely tempted to call Paula and demand she spill about the contents. Except she realised with frustration, that she didn't have Paula's number. She'd consciously never entered it into her phone, even when both Mike and Harvey had sent it to her, feeling in some way that it would be a betrayal to Donna if she had.
She looked up at the clock again and winced. Four hours. Donna had been gone for four hours, without any contact. Rachel had tried calling her several times, but every call had gone straight to voicemail. Donna's phone was off. Another deliberate move, no doubt.
Suddenly, two loud knocks reverberated around the apartment. Rachel jumped and then froze momentarily. Her immediate thought was that it would be Harvey, and her heart sank at the prospect of what he would say. She soon swept into action though as she marched to the front door and peeked through the spy hole. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw the familiar face of her husband, and she swung the door open.
"Mike!" Rachel threw her arms about him and let out a deep sigh. "Thank God," she whispered into his neck.
Mike returned the embrace, wrapping himself around her slight frame. "Hey," he replied simply.
They held each other for a few seconds before pulling apart and then immediately indulging in a tender kiss.
"Miss me?" Mike whispered, as they rubbed noses.
"You have no idea," she chuckled.
Mike returned her smile but then a veil of seriousness fell across his features. "We need to talk. Is Donna back?" he asked.
Rachel's eyes widened. "You knew she left?"
"Err.. yeah!"
"Oh my god, what has she done?"
"I'd better come inside," he said with a pained expression.
"Harvey!...HARVEY"
Samantha called after the man in question as he advanced down the steps of the FBI field office. He didn't look back, marching directly towards his car which was dutifully waiting.
"Harvey!...Talk to me, Goddammit!"
Harvey spun on his heel and scowled at Samantha. "Talk about what? There's nothing to say."
Samantha sighed. "I need to know what you're going to do," she persevered.
Harvey threw his arms out to the side. "It's like you said, Samantha. There's nothing I can do about it." He reached for the door handle.
"Where are you going?"
Harvey shrugged and cocked his head to the side. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe I'll fly to the Bahamas, have an extended vacation. Maybe I'll take a trip to Europe, learn a new language...because after all, I'm off scot-free. Everything's worked out just fine!" he bit back, his tone caustic.
Samantha rolled her eyes. "That's not fair. My job in there was to protect you and your interests, which I did. That doesn't mean that I don't care about Donna or what might happen to her. We need to sit down and come up with a defense strategy in case they decide to charge her."
Harvey glowered at her before opening the door. "You do whatever makes you feel better, Samantha. I've got somewhere I need to be."
Without another word, he climbed into the back of the Lexus, slamming the door before the car pulled away.
"Holy shit!"
"I know."
"They could both be charged!"
"I know."
Rachel lifted her hand up to her mouth and shook her head in dismay. Mike immediately took her other hand and gave it a squeeze.
"Hey. Donna made a choice. This isn't your fault."
Rachel tilted her head, giving him a look that told him it wasn't as simple as that.
"There is some good news though," Mike said with a light smile.
"Oh?"
"The FBI followed up on the leads we provided from our visit to Danbury. I got a call from Agent Wade about ten minutes ago, telling me they found the body of Glen Mathison."
Rachel's eyebrows shot up. "The Karimov's accountant?"
"Yep. They have an arrest warrant out for Roman Karimov. According to Nick Hasanov, Roman not only killed Mathison himself, the sick bastard filmed the whole thing on his phone. For his collection, apparently. So, all going well, they have everything they need to put him away for a very, very long time, and Harvey won't need to testify at all."
Rachel nodded at Mike's words and she let out a deep breath. "Well that takes care of Roman, but what about—"
"I know. We're not out of the woods yet," Mike said with a sigh as he fell back against the couch.
They were interrupted by several loud bangs on the front door. With hardly any chance given for them to respond, the banging persisted. Mike shot up out of his seat and sprinted to the front door. His stomach sank when he spied who was on the other side. He unchained the lock, opened the door and Harvey stormed past him.
"Is she here?"
He rounded the corner into Donna's living room, Mike close to his heel.
"Well? Is she?" he practically bellowed.
Rachel stood up from the couch. "No, Harvey. She's not. I haven't seen her since this morning."
Harvey was breathing heavily. His eyes were wide, his jaw set and his fists clenched. Anger seemed to emanate from every pore. "You let her leave...again?" he roared.
Rachel held out her hand in defense. "Harvey, I—"
"I asked you to keep an eye on her. I told you to keep her safe. I might as well have asked my six-year old niece to watch over her," he snarled.
"Harvey. It wasn't—"
"Are you competent at anything?"
"That's enough!" Mike snapped. "Don't you dare talk to Rachel like that. I know you're pissed and you're frustrated, but we are done being your punching bags!"
"Mike. You don't know what Donna did," Harvey rounded on his friend.
"I don't give a shit. It's not our fault! None of this is our fault. You're feeling guilty and it's making you lash out, and I've had enough of it." He glared back at Harvey.
Rachel stepped forward then and placed a hand on Mike's arm. She looked up at Harvey. "I didn't stop Donna leaving because she's a grown woman capable of making her own choices. I may have been keeping an eye on her, but she wasn't my prisoner, Harvey. I think she'd already had enough of being held against her will this week, don't you?"
Harvey blanched at that and his shoulders slumped. He pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a shuddering sigh, along with some of the aggression he had been harbouring. He shook his head, more at himself than at his two friends, before looking back at Rachel with a forlorn expression.
"Can I get a drink?"
Rachel seemed to relax slightly at his request and she gave him a half-smile. "Sure. Vodka okay?"
"Macallan is preferable. She always keeps a bottle in the middle cupboard," he said dolefully.
Rachel moved to the kitchen and retrieved the bottle of Macallan along with three glasses. As she made her way back into the living room, Harvey was already slumped on the couch. His breathing had calmed, but his face was still twisted with anguish. She poured them all a healthy measure of whiskey and handed Harvey his glass, which he took almost despondently as he stared blankly ahead.
"What else did she do, Harvey?" Mike asked, breaking the silence.
Harvey sighed and closed his eyes.
"You said 'you don't know what Donna did'... what did she do?" Mike pressed further.
Harvey took a large gulp of his drink and rested the glass on his knee. He still didn't look up, his eyes slightly glazed over. "She not only confessed to shooting Samuel. She also produced a letter from a psychiatrist claiming that my statement should be disregarded because I was suffering from PTSD. Some kind of fucking memory displacement shit," he said bitterly.
"What? Paula wrote that?" Rachel gasped.
Harvey's eyes flashed darkly, but he shook his head. "Nope. Apparently, it came from my consultation with Dr. Beck, who diagnosed me with this incredibly fortunate condition."
"Dr. Beck? Who's that?" Mike asked with a frown.
"Fuck if I know," Harvey scoffed. He took another slug of whiskey before continuing. "Anyway, the FBI were more than satisfied with it. My statement is now officially null and void, and now that Glen Mathison's body has been found, I'm in the clear. Yay for me." He scowled with a wave of his whiskey glass.
Mike and Rachel exchanged a look between them. "What about Donna?" Mike dared to ask.
Harvey gripped his glass a little tighter, and he grimaced as he met Mike's inquisitive gaze. "She may be charged. We don't know yet," he said darkly.
"Fuck!" Mike exhaled.
All three of them sat for a moment not knowing what to say. In the end, Rachel gave voice to what they were all thinking.
"We need to sort out representation for her, and make sure that criminal charges don't even see the light of day."
"We need to find her first," Mike added.
Harvey placed his empty glass on the coffee table, and stood up from the couch.
"We do. So I suggest you both find out where the fuck she is, pretty damn quick," he said brusquely as he did up his coat.
"Where are you going?" Mike asked.
"Home." His face was impassive and his tone was cool, almost glacial. "Can you both meet me at the office tomorrow?" he asked.
"Of course, Harvey," Mike answered, perplexed at the sudden change in Harvey's demeanor. He was clearly still angry, but the former rage had given way to a more controlled hostility.
Harvey nodded, and without a further word uttered he took his leave.
It was mere minutes later that he was back in his black Lexus, instructing Ray to drive him home. Ray seemed to sense the dark cloud that surrounded his boss and thankfully didn't try to make any casual conversation.
Harvey gazed out of his window in silence. His eyes weren't focused on the New York streets, instead his dark mood occupied his consciousness. Anger and resentment permeated his bones. He knew Mike was right when he'd accused him of lashing out at everybody. He should feel guilty about that, but he didn't. He was too preoccupied with coming to terms with what Donna had done.
He'd asked her to trust him. To trust that he would fix the situation. His hunch about Mathison had been right, and the mere fact that Roman had crossed state lines to commit murder, and had done so to prevent an FBI informant from testifying, resulted in it being determined as a federal and capital crime. That had meant that Harvey not only provided enough evidence to the FBI to get the bastard convicted, but he would have been able to threaten Roman with the possibility of the death penalty. His plan had been that providing Roman destroyed all traces of The Beaufort Club's video footage, Harvey would make sure, using all the contacts he had at his disposal, that the death penalty would not be sought. It was a good plan, and everything was going well. They would all have been off the hook.
But Donna had lost faith in him.
She'd jumped the gun and thrown herself on the train tracks, needlessly. Harvey scrunched his eyes and pressed his lips together in a thin line. He was so close to getting everything resolved and now they had the prospect of Donna being charged with murder. He was livid.
"We're here boss," Ray's voice interrupted his thoughts.
"Thanks, Ray. I'll see you in the morning."
He rode the elevator up to his condo and his skin prickled. He'd never felt so on edge, so out of sorts. He was exhausted still. He'd not had a proper night sleep for days now, and the stress and mental fatigue he had suffered were taking their toll. However, rage was driving him on. Fury and indignation at having been blindsided today were keeping him from collapsing in a bone-weary heap.
He entered his condo, noting the lights that were on low. He threw his keys on the side table as he walked out into his living room.
Paula was sitting on the couch, nursing a gin and tonic. The fire was on low, the flames casting a warm glow about the room. She looked up and smiled broadly but with a noticeable hint of nervousness.
"You're home! I know you probably weren't expecting me to be here—"
"I knew you'd be here, and I'm glad that you are," he replied.
She stood up then and walked up to him, wrapping her arms about him and reaching up to place a soft kiss on his lips.
Harvey stiffened, but he placed his hands on either side of her waist, as he pulled back slightly to look into her blue eyes.
"How did today go? Is everything sorted? Is that horrible man dealt with?" she asked, as she ran her fingers down the sides of his face.
Harvey half smiled and he nodded. "Paula… who's Dr. Beck?"
Paula halted her movements and she swallowed heavily. "What?"
"You heard me," Harvey said, his tone low and dangerous.
Paula took a step back and crossed her arms instinctively. "He's a friend," she answered, a distinct wobble to her voice.
Harvey pursed his lips as he nodded slowly, his gaze never wavering from the woman in front of him. "Does he know that the false statement he signed his name to could not only see him lose his license, but also see him prosecuted?"
Paula tucked her hair behind her ear with a trembling hand. "He does, yes."
Harvey glared at her, waiting for her to elaborate, but she didn't say anything more. She simply stared right back as though challenging him to question her further.
"What the fuck did you think you were doing?" he asked abruptly.
She lifted her chin and rolled her shoulders back. "Saving you from yourself."
"Excuse me?" Harvey's eyes widened and the vein pulsed in his neck.
"Harvey, you were in danger of losing everything. Your career, your freedom. You stopped seeing any reason and your recklessness—"
"Who the fuck do you think you are?" Harvey yelled.
Paula blanched and took another step away from Harvey. "I'm your girlfriend, Harvey. Or had you forgotten about that? I love you and I was just trying to protect you."
"By going to Donna behind my back, and cooking up some fucking idiotic scheme?"
"It worked didn't it?" Paula cried, her arms outstretched.
Harvey lifted his fists, clenched them, then dropped them back to his side as he screwed his face up in an attempt to keep his anger in check. "No, Paula. It didn't, because I might be okay, but Donna could be charged with second-degree murder. I had everything under control. Everything was going to be resolved, then you went behind my back, and fucking ruined everything. How could you think I would be okay with you risking her like that?"
"It was her bloody idea, okay?" Paula shouted back.
Harvey faltered then, and he frowned. "What?"
Paula sighed and she ran her fingers through her hair to calm herself before speaking. "Yes, I went to Donna. I went to tell her about Roman's blackmail—"
"You had no right to do that," Harvey thundered.
"Oh yes I did. His blackmail directly affected her. She's not a child, Harvey, her life as she knew it was under threat and you were all complicit in hiding it from her. That was not your call to make. So you're damn right I told her. She assured me straight away that she could fix it. She knew how to get Roman off your back." Paula hesitated before continuing. "She told me that in order to get you off the hook, she would need that letter from me. It couldn't be written by me, because of our relationship. It had to be someone independent, whose integrity wouldn't come into question. Dr. Beck is a very old friend that I knew I could trust with this."
Paula glanced away then, and Harvey sensed immediately that there was more that Paula wasn't disclosing.
"What else?"
Paula swallowed and she looked down at her feet.
"What else did you both talk about, Paula? Tell me the fuck now, or so help me God—"
"I told her that she needed to let you go."
Harvey's mouth fell open and he stared dumbfounded at his girlfriend. His breathing accelerated and he narrowed his eyes. "You did what?" he all but whispered.
"Like I've already told you, you were being reckless. You were making rash decisions and she was the reason that you weren't able to think straight. I told her that I was aware that she had kissed you and even though she then assured me that the kiss was all her, and that her feelings for you were not reciprocated, I told her that you were still riddled with guilt over it. I pointed out that your guilt had clouded your judgement. I suggested to her that if she loved you, that she needed to let you move on."
Harvey had reached out and grasped hold of the nearest kitchen stool to steady himself as he stared incredulously at Paula.
She then took a steadying breath before slowly walking over to the desk by Harvey's bookcase. She pulled open a drawer and took out two envelopes. She returned to Harvey and stood in front of him with them still clutched in her hand.
Harvey looked from her hands up to her face and he straightened his stance. His senses were on high alert, alarm bells ringing like crazy in his head.
"What did you get in return, Paula. What did she give you in return for that fabricated letter," he almost choked out.
Paula looked down at the envelopes and then she held out her hand. "She asked me to give you these," she said quietly.
Harvey stared at Paula's outstretched hand, afraid to take what he was being offered.
"What are they?"
"They're both addressed to you. I've not opened them."
Harvey took them and turned them over in his hand. His name was inscribed on both envelopes in Donna's distinct scrawl. He swallowed, tucking them into his jacket pocket, not ready to open them and read their contents just yet.
"I'm sorry, Harvey. I really am. Please understand that we did what we did because we both care deeply for you and we were just trying to protect you."
Harvey looked up then and he saw the sincerity in Paula's eyes. She was trembling, and he gently took her hand and gave it a light squeeze.
"I know," he said softly.
She let out a sob and a tear escaped down her cheek. Harvey released a deep sigh before tenderly swiping it away with his thumb.
"Paula… Donna was wrong."
Paula nodded, the tears now flowing freely. "She did what she thought was best for you," she said as she tilted her head. She then lifted her arms so that she could cradle his face in her hands.
Harvey shook his head as he took her hands and removed them from his face. "That's not what I meant, Paula." He hesitated before looking her squarely in the eye.
"Donna was wrong...when she told you that the kiss was all her... and that the way she felt about me was not reciprocated."