"To Miss Groves and her team," Harold toasted, lifting his glass of Champagne. "Thank you for your dedication and the impossibly fast pace. A year ago this would have all been impossible, but this whole office worked tirelessly to create the Acoustic Coupler and Modem. I'm sure this will lead to even more discovery in the future. Cheers."
"Cheers!"
Root raised her glass along with the rest of the office, smiling politely. She kept her thoughts off her face. This hadn't been some monumental team effort. She'd personally spent the past few years doing the math and working on the projects that had built the foundation for this work. Of course she couldn't undermine the amount of work the team did, her small group especially, but still. This was mostly her success.
She sipped her Champagne as she looked around the room. People were splitting off into small groups, chatting amongst themselves. Claire was talking to Jason and Daniel, gesturing wildly about something. The four of them had grown close over the past month and a half. She'd particularly grown close to Claire, going out to drinks with her most nights.
Contrary to what Sameen had thought two weeks before, Root was not dating Claire. For one thing, Claire was almost twenty years her junior. For another, Root wasn't interested in dating someone else. She only wanted Shaw and that was impossible at the moment. So, she was just going to stay single.
Besides, it was nice to have some time to herself. It had been so long since she'd been independent, without the pressure of a relationship. It wasn't particularly fun, but it wasn't terrible. Root didn't need a relationship to feel whole. Even so, she still missed Sameen.
She'd thrown herself into her work for the past month, forcing herself to focus on something beside her heartbreak. She'd begun working twelve-hour days, even on the weekends. What little free time she allowed herself was spent hanging out with Claire, or calling travel agents. She tried to convince herself that she was being productive; she wasn't just pushing her feelings away.
All that work had led to a lack of sleep. Root looked at her hand, now free of its bandages, but still a little bruised. She'd been helping Daniel carry a printer into the storage room and a yawn had threatened to over take her. Holding it back, her eyes had watered and she'd tripped over a box of punch cards. The printer had landed on her hand, bruising two fingers. It had hurt at the time, but now there was just the lingering sickly green and yellow.
She looked up to see that Harold had started walking toward where she was leaning against the closed door to her office. Their little celebration had taken place in the main computer room, but Root tried to stay out of the way as much as possible. She wanted credit, but that didn't mean she wanted the full attention of her coworkers. Tossing back the last of her Champagne, she pushed herself off the door and gave Harold a tight smile.
"Haven't seen you in a while, Harold," Root said instead of a greeting. "I was beginning to think you were avoiding me."
" Yes, well." Harold coughed into his fist. "I apologize. I admit that I should have spoken to you sooner."
Her eyes narrowed. "You should have spoken to me four years ago."
With a stiff nod, he gestured toward the door behind her. "Perhaps we could speak in private."
She raised her eyes to the ceiling, but opened the door and stepped into her office. Moving to sit behind her desk, she savored the small joy she got from watching him hesitate. He closed the door slowly and walked to her guest chairs. She kept her face neutral as he lowered himself into a seat.
"What do you have to say?" Root asked, not caring if she was rude to her boss.
He winced as he folded his hands in his lap. "I'd like to apologize...for the past few years. I shouldn't have used you the way that I did, but-"
"No," she interrupted, holding up a hand. "You shouldn't have, and no amount of excuses will make it better." When his shoulders slumped, she sighed and rubbed her forehead. "I'm angry, Harold, at you and John both, but I… suppose I understand. I know what it's like to be unconventional and I can imagine what it was like four years ago, or even fifteen years ago, when I started working for you."
He seemed surprised at that. "Fifteen years? Has it really been that long?"
She chuckled, and some of the tension left her as she sat back in her chair. "Yeah. It has."
"I'm thankful for your loyalty," he said quietly. "I'm glad I hired you when I did."
Despite the betrayal, Root couldn't help but feel fondly toward Harold. He gave her an opportunity that she might never have had otherwise. It hurt to be used by someone she had admired so much, but it also reminded her that everyone was human and that no one deserved to be worshipped. She wasn't sure what to say.
"If I may change the subject…" Harold waited for her to nod. "I would like you to have joint ownership of the patent for the Acoustic Coupler and Modem. Of course, Thornhill Industries will hold the patent, but it is your invention and I believe that your name should be on it as well."
Root stared at him, stunned. He wanted her name on the patent? It was going to make millions and having her name on it would mean that she would get a part of that. Harold was already a millionaire, but surely he knew how much this money would change her life.
"There's no denying how much you have influenced the project," he continued, "and I know an apology for my behaviour will never suffice, but maybe this will help. I'm filing for both a design patent and a utility patent, so both will have your name. The Department of Defense is leasing the patent from us for the duration, which is twenty years. After that, we'll have to renegotiate."
Twenty years. It took all of Root's control not to let her mouth fall open. She'd never dreamed of having that much money and she didn't quite know what to think. It would be easy to move away now. She could buy a house out west without batting an eye. She could buy a car, or even a plane with that money. It was world-changing money.
"I'm quitting," Root said before her brain caught up with her. She blinked. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be so abrupt. Thank you for including me on the patent. I had already decided to quit."
Harold sighed heavily, nodding his understanding. "I had guessed as much." He smiled kindly. "Fifteen years. I'm glad for the chance to watch you grow, as a programmer and as a person. I wouldn't dare try to set you up with John now."
"At least you've learned something," she joked back. Taking a deep breath, she tried to figure out what she wanted to say to him. They'd worked together for so long and he'd both hurt and helped her so much. How can that be easily summed up? "Thank you," she settled on. "Thank you for taking a chance on me when I was fresh out of school, and for promoting me when Weeks left. It was an amazing opportunity for me and I know I wouldn't be where I am without you. But…"
"I know," he replied. Smacking his hands on his knees, he raised his eyebrows. "You've outgrown me, and that's good. I only wish you well. If you ever want to come back, a job will be here for you."
Knowing that took a great weight off her shoulders. Even though Root never intended to come back to the city, it was a relief to know that if her search for something more failed and she ended up with nothing, she would always have something to fall back on. She nodded, holding back her emotion.
"Thanks." She pushed her hair behind her ear. "If it's alright, I'd like today to be my last day. I'll call you when I have an address where you can send the patent paperwork."
"Are you moving?" he asked, curiously. "I suppose with your newfound wealth, you can move somewhere much nicer."
Root smirked. She wanted to tease him and say that she was buying the house on the other side of his, making him and John her new neighbors. Instead, she just shrugged. "I'm leaving the city. I'm thinking about getting a house out west. Now, with the patent money, I can spend my time working on my own projects. Working for myself."
"Sounds like a dream," Harold replied, smiling fondly. "I wish you the best. I'll have Zoe do the paperwork for your resignation. She'll send it along with the patent paperwork."
He stood and Root followed his lead, moving around her desk. His hand lifted, as if he was going to shake hers, before dropping. Stepping forward, he hugged her, arms wrapping around her shoulders. Root was surprised to realize that she felt sad about leaving Thornhill. It was her first big job and she'd done her best work during her time with the company. Closing her eyes, she hugged Harold back.
After a moment, they broke apart and Root stepped back, leaning her butt against the edge of her desk. "I'll see you around, Harold."
He nodded sharply and left the room, closing the door behind him. Sighing, Root looked around the office. She'd taken most of her personal belongings home over the past week and there was only her purse to take now. Her eyes landed on a stack of boxes against the wall.
She'd packed away an acoustic coupler and modem the night before, labelling the boxes 'old punchcards.' Harold hadn't even taken a second look at them. The boxes also held instructions, paperwork, a copy of the most important punch cards, and a set of schematics. Now that the patent was going to be hers as well, Root wondered if the trouble she'd get in for giving the equipment to Elias would be reduced if someone found out. Probably not.
She was honestly too exhausted to care. The weeks of constant work had taken their toll on her, and so had the uneasy sleep. Root could only distract herself from her break-up for so many hours of the day and then thoughts of Sameen crept into her head.
A part of her wanted to explain that she wasn't dating Claire and ask Sameen if they could be together now that her deal with Elias was done. Another part of her was still furious that Sameen didn't trust her. Either way, it probably didn't matter now. Root hadn't seen her at the Black Cherry again and she could guess that Sameen had actually left this time. Even if she hadn't, Root was leaving and it would truly be over between them.
Root would probably always have a place in her heart for Sameen. It was an eye-opening relationship and Root understood how she wanted to be treated now. She'd really found herself again and that wouldn't have happened without Sameen. Root just wished it wasn't in the past.
Someone knocked on the door and Root shook her head, pulling herself out of her thoughts. "Come in," she called, standing from her desk.
The door opened and Zoe poked her head in, smiling tightly. "Have a moment?"
"Sure." Retreating behind her desk, Root sat in her chair and crossed her arms on her desk. "Have a seat."
Zoe entered and closed the door behind her quietly, a thick envelope in her hand. She sat in the same seat Harold had and delicately crossed her legs. "Congratulations."
"Thank you." A moment of silence passed. Root gestured to the boxes. "For you. For Elias. I'd suggest retrieving them after the office closes."
Smiling, Zoe rested her elbow on the arm of her chair and rested her chin on her fist. "Thank you." She chuckled to herself. "Hard to believe we're having this conversation. A few months ago, we'd hardly spoken."
"And then you decided I would be a good asset," Root responded sharply. "Why does everyone in my life try to use me?"
"You have a lot of use," Zoe replied honestly. She shrugged. "Stop letting yourself be used."
Root raised an eyebrow meaningfully. "Oh, I intend to." Sitting up, she rolled her shoulders back. "Are we done here?"
With a put-upon sigh, Zoe stood up. "We are." Hesitating for a moment, her composed facade faded a little bit. "I'm sorry," she apologized. "I enjoyed having you as a friend. I hope, in time, we can return to that."
Root decided to keep her departure to herself. It felt powerful to have a piece of information that Zoe didn't. Instead of telling her that there wouldn't be any reconnection, Root gave her a cheerful smile and reached out for the envelope. Zoe gave it to her and began to leave the office.
"Zoe?" Root called after her, before she could stop herself. There was still something weighing on her mind. "One last question."
With a half-hearted smile, Zoe turned back to her. "Yes?"
"What is Ridgestone?"
The smile fell from her face. "It's…" She hesitated, crossing her arms. "It's a hospital, a state hospital, for… those unable to live in normal society."
Root understood what she meant and nodded slowly. If she had failed with Elias, she would have been locked away. That didn't seem too terrible. Root would have just pretended to become "cured" and then be let free. "Why is Shaw so terrified of it? It's just a hospital."
Wincing, Zoe looked away. She seemed tense and Root could imagine her bolting from the room. "The process of becoming cured isn't straightforward. They don't just accept that you've been cured based on your behaviour or talk therapy. The treatments are painful and the doctors are… committed to proving their effectiveness. "
"Just tell me," Root snapped, the envelope in her hands crunching as she clenched her fist. She stood. "I'm tired of vague descriptions."
"Shock therapy," Zoe answered. "Mental hygiene films. I'm sure the doctors try more practical tactics. If those fail to satisfy the psychologists, then there is always lobotomy. I'm sure Shaw was threatened with something similar in California."
With that, she left the office and closed the door silently behind her. Root stood shocked at her desk. A lobotomy. She'd thought that Ridgestone was a prison, or some sort of reform institution for criminals, but to know that she'd been that close to being locked away until she'd been broken, lobotomized or otherwise. The reality of the situation finally landed on her.
That's why Shaw had been so upset. Root hadn't been willing to listen to her. She was too focused on wanting to be her own person and take chances. She'd forgotten how real the danger was, but Shaw hadn't. Shaw lived with that danger, had experienced the reality of the harm that could come to them. Root should have let her speak.
Not bothering to count the money, Root shook her head and tucked the envelope into her back pocket. She didn't want to let the shadow of danger ruin her success. Her time in New York was rapidly coming to a close and she was running out of loose ends to tie up. She'd already told Claire, Jason, and Daniel that she was leaving. The only thing left to do was actually leave.
Taking a deep breath, she opened her desk drawer and retrieved her wallet and keys. It still hadn't fully hit her that she was never coming back to this office. She'd grown up here and now she had outgrown it. She took the key to the office off her keyring and put it on her desk.
Whatever danger she'd been in, she was out of it now. She'd been successful and completed her end of the deal. Still, it would be good to leave the city. Maybe she'd run into Shaw out there in the world and give her the apology she deserved. Maybe they could try again. With a sigh, she looked down at the keys in her hand.
The key to John's house was still on her keyring, beside the key to her own apartment. They were the only two keys she had. Looking at the two small, silver keys in her hand made her feel untethered. It shouldn't be so easy to just leave her life behind. Including college, she'd lived in New York for over twenty years. It had taken her a few hours to pack her life away and terminate all her connections.
Heading out onto the main floor, Root left her office door open. Zoe would need access later. Some feeling was stirring in Root's chest and she wasn't sure if it was a good or bad one. She reached the elevator and pushed the button, thinking about the rest of the evening.
For the first time in a long time, she was free to do whatever she wanted. The realization hit her that she could do whatever she wanted for the rest of her life. The elevator arrived and she stepped into it, a grin stretching across her face as she pushed the button for the lobby. She finally had the time to be herself, whoever she wanted that to be. If Shaw could live as herself, then Root could, too. She'd proven that at least.
As the elevator took her down, she laughed. She didn't have a boss anymore, or a job, or any responsibilities. She was free. She could go wherever she wanted to and do anything she could imagine. There was no one to hold her accountable or hold her back. It was just her and the whole wide world.
The doors opened and Root strode across the lobby with quick, sure steps. She barely noticed the large lobby around her. It didn't make her feel small anymore. Its fancy decor seemed garish instead of classy and she was glad that she'd never have to look at it again.
She pushed her way through the glass doors and stopped beside the gaggle of secretaries taking a break outside. She almost felt sorry for them now. They had to work 9 to 5 every day for the foreseeable future or until they found a husband to finance their lives. Root didn't envy them. It had taken a lot of hard work to avoid that life, but now she could finance her own life and maybe one day, she'd be the one to finance another good woman's life.
She spotted Martine in the group, her gloved fingers holding a lit cigarette. Root's happiness filled her and she couldn't even bring herself to hate Martine as much as she used to. Walking to her, Root took the cigarette from her fingers. When Martine opened her mouth to protest, Root kissed her, her hand cupping the back of Martine's head.
Before she pulled away, she felt Martine's tongue brush over her lips and she grinned. Taking a step backwards, Root stuck the lipstick-stained cigarette between her teeth and gave her a mock salute. The shocked look on Martine's and all the secretaries' faces was just the cherry on top of Root's good mood.
With a dismissive laugh, Root started down the street toward her apartment. She happily smoked the stolen cigarette, looking forward to the rest of her night. There was a bottle of Champagne in her refrigerator, and she was going to get drunk and watch a television. Tonight, she was going to celebrate the rest of her life.
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Shaw slowed her bike to a stop at the red light, dropping a foot onto the street to steady herself. The sun had set below the tall buildings, but she couldn't wait any longer to leave New York. Maybe late on a Friday night wasn't the best time to hit the road, but it was time for her to leave. Around her, the streetlights cast an orange glow over the fast-moving crowd that walked along the sidewalks.
She wondered if Root was among them. Since she'd run into Root at the Black Cherry two weeks ago, she'd been on edge. It hadn't affected her work, but she just wasn't happy in the city and she was under no obligation to stay somewhere if it wasn't working out. Everything reminded her of Root and she was tired of it. Maybe leaving would help, maybe it wouldn't, but she had to try.
The light turned green and she opened up the throttle, picking up speed. Reese had understood her decision to go and told her that she could come back whenever she wanted to. The look on his face had told her that he knew she wasn't going to come back. When she found somewhere else to live, she could invite him to say with her. If she found somewhere else to live.
The city streamed past her as she headed out. It was hard to believe that she'd only lived here for five months. She was leaving with exactly as much as she'd arrived with. It was probably for the best. She could only fit one duffelbag on her motorcycle. It was for the best that she didn't have a second passenger, or a large stuffed dog.
Glancing over her shoulder, she shifted into the left lane and turned. She'd put in her two weeks notice with Fusco right after she'd run into Root. When the work day had ended earlier, she had promised him and Carter that she would stop by the bar and say goodbye to everyone. Shaw wondered when she ended up with a group of people that she had to leave behind.
A block from the bar, she hit another red light and stopped, dropping both feet and sitting back. In spite of herself, she looked toward Root's office. It was impossible to deny that she still wanted to be with Root, but that wasn't possible anymore. Shaw just didn't know how to fix the situation, and so she was just going to leave and forget about it.
Just like she'd run away from California to avoid the consequences of a failed would-be relationship, she was running away from New York. Scoffing at herself, she adjusted her helmet. She wasn't running away again. She was leaving an unpleasant situation. By choice. Because she wanted to. Hopefully, she'd find somewhere to settle soon.
Or maybe she wouldn't. Shaw drove forward when the light changed and pulled up to the curb in front of the Black Cherry. There was nothing wrong with moving around and Shaw might be better suited to that life. If she didn't stay in one place for too long, didn't get too close to anyone, she could avoid another situation like Root. Even as she thought it, she knew there was no 'situation' like Root.
Shaw missed her. More than she could bring herself to admit. She missed talking about the world, sleeping in the same bed, having to work harder and be better. Root had pushed her in a way no one else had before. Maybe that was why Shaw had finally snapped and left. Maybe Shaw was just a coward.
Throwing her leg over her motorcycle, she unclipped her helmet and slipped it off her head. Her hair fell into her face and she pushed it back with a scowl. She hadn't cut her hair since the last time Root had told her to. She'd have to decide for herself what to do with her hair now.
Movement across the street caught her attention and she turned her head to see Zoe leaving Root's work, two men behind her carrying boxes. Shaw could guess what they held. Seeing Zoe made her angrier than she would have expected. If that bitch hadn't wormed her way into Root's good graces and then tricked her, Shaw wouldn't have to leave New York.
She would still be living with Root and working with Fusco and Carter. They would be part of the softball league, a part of the bar, a part of each other's lives. Shaw would never have lost her temper and broken up with Root. They would have been together sooner if Zoe hadn't told Root to hold her feelings back. It might not be fair to blame all of her problems on Zoe, but fuck if it didn't feel good.
Before she knew that she was moving, Shaw was halfway across the street. Her blood was boiling and she barely heard the honk of angry drivers as she walked in front of their cars. The noise caught Zoe's attention and she looked in Shaw's direction as she rounded the corner and crossed the street again. Zoe tried to seem calm and collected, but Shaw noted the way she took a slight step backward, putting her bodyguards between them.
"How dare you," Shaw growled, planting herself in front of the two tall men. "How dare you fuck with Root like that? She trusted you!"
Zoe tucked her hands into the pockets of her too-fancy red dress. "Root knew what she was getting into. She knew I had ulterior motives to befriend her from the start. She's a big girl, Shaw."
"She's a smart woman," Shaw bit back, fists clenching, "but she doesn't know the world like we do. You took advantage of that."
"I did," Zoe admitted, shrugging casually. "That's my job. I'm very good at it. Root could have said no if she didn't want to do the job. It would have been over."
Shaw rolled her eyes. "Bullshit. Like you and your boss would have let her just walk away. I'm surprised they haven't just thrown her in Ridgestone anyway."
At that, Zoe's calm cracked just a little and she sighed, sounding remorseful. "I wouldn't have let that happen," she said softly. "I like Root and I think she'd be a great asset to our team, but if she didn't want to… Well, I would fight for her side."
Shaw stared at Zoe, something stirring in her chest. How could Zoe say she cared about Root and still drag her into such a dangerous situation? Shaw would have kept Root safe and out of harm's way. She remembered that she'd had the opportunity to do just that.
She could have stayed with Root and made sure no one hurt her. Root had her fingers in a brace when they'd run into each other. Was that because of Zoe and her boss? Had Root been hurt because of the deal? Because Shaw had left her alone?
The anger she had for Zoe turned in on itself, filling her to the brim with resentment. She was so stupid. Root was the best thing that had ever happened to her and she'd let her emotions get the best of her. The one time in her life that she had felt worried about someone, almost scared that the person she cared about was going to get hurt, Shaw had failed. She had just walked away.
Shaw didn't know if she loved Root, if she had it in her to love someone romantically, but, god, she cared so much. Root had found a way under Shaw's skin and inside her head and now Shaw had to live with the fact that she would never see her again. The only time in her life her emotional volume had been turned up and she'd smashed the speakers.
Root wasn't just a rich girl to conquer and corrupt. She was a woman, a person, who was brilliant and beautiful and fascinating. Shaw could only be herself, but Root could be anyone. She'd changed herself so many times and there was still so much changing to do. Shaw wished she could be there to see it.
"You should have kept her out of this," Shaw repeated, trembling with rage. "You're a terrible person."
Zoe raised an eyebrow. "And what are you?"
"I'm Root's girlfriend," she answered before she could stop herself.
"You're not, though." Zoe smiled with seemingly genuine sympathy. "You're nothing to her."
The tiny shred of control that Shaw had been clinging to finally disappeared and she lunged forward toward Zoe, intent on ripping her to pieces. The strong arms of a bodyguard wrapped around her waist and held her back. Blinded by rage, Shaw twisted in his arms and threw her head forward. She was rewarded by a satisfying crunch as his nose broke.
With that, the other bodyguard took her arm in a bruising grip, yanking her backwards. He shoved his fist into her stomach, knocking the wind out of her lungs and dropping her legs out from under her. Unwilling to lose a fight, she slammed her head forward a second time, targeting the large man right between the legs. With a grunt, he fell to his knees.
Gasping for air, Shaw threw herself at him. She shoved him to the ground and got in a few solid punches before a hand tangled in her too-long hair, pulling her back. The first bodyguard pushed her face into the hard cement of the sidewalk and crushed her hand under his boot.
The pain made Shaw's head swim and her mouth filled with blood. Spitting, she used her good hand to dig sharp nails into the man's ankle, kicking the other's stomach with her boot. Her vision blurred as pain bloomed in her stomach, the boot above her hand finding another resting place. She wasn't willing to give up, though, and tried to climb to her feet.
"Stay down, Shaw," Zoe's voice called, almost sounding sympathetic. "You have no dog in this hunt."
Lifting her head, Shaw spat blood in Zoe's direction. Zoe just rolled her eyes and nodded to the man who still had a grip on Shaw's hair. He smashed her head against the sidewalk again. Before she blacked out, Shaw heard Zoe sigh.
"Poor thing. You two take her home. I'll call Anthony for the boxes."
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Root ran her spoon along the bottom of her bowl, making sure to get the last drop of chocolate ice cream. She watched Dick Clark laugh on her television set, the camera too close to his face. Tipping the spoon into her mouth, she closed her eyes, savoring the sweetness.
It was her last night in her apartment and everything was packed except for her couch, the clothing she was planning to wear tomorrow, and what she was wearing at the moment. Looking at the empty bowl and spoon, she frowned, realizing that she had nothing to wash them with and she'd have to put them into their box dirty.
With a sigh, she stood from the couch and moved to the open box on her dining table. She picked up the large piece of brown paper she'd set aside and wrapped the bowl carefully. She set it inside the box, put the spoon beside it and closed the box.
Turning, she looked over her empty bookshelves, the table where her record player had been, and the dining table. For once, it wasn't covered in cables. Instead, it had four boxes on it. Everything else that she was bringing with her had been picked up by the movers, so it would be in Colorado before her. She was leaving her furniture behind. She wanted to start fresh in her new house and it would be easier to rent her apartment if it came furnished.
A cheer from the television startled her and she blinked. She glanced at the clock on the wall before remembering she'd packed it away. American Bandstand was almost over and that meant it was almost eleven. She should go to sleep so that she would be fresh for her move. Tomorrow morning, she would go to the car dealership and buy herself something beautiful and big. Then, she'd hit the road and never look back.
She took a step toward her bedroom, but a pounding on her door stopped her. Frowning, she crept toward it, wondering who would come to her apartment so late. It might be Elias' scarred bodyguard, demanding more work. Maybe Zoe had betrayed her once again.
Peering through the peephole, she gasped. It was John. He was sweating and out of breath. Despite her anger, she was worried that something had happened to him.
Root quickly unlocked the door and threw it open. "John?" she asked, as she pulled him inside. "What's wrong?"
"Shaw," he gasped, shaking his head. "She's hurt."
Her heart jumping into her throat, Root ran into the living room to turn off the TV. "Take me to her."
She hurried to her bedroom. Her suitcase was open on her couch and she tossed the clothing she had set out inside before zipping it shut. She didn't care that she was in her pajamas, the pantsuit that had become her favorite. Carrying her suitcase back to the entranceway, she shoved it at John. Her bare feet stuck to the inside of her boots as she tugged them on, but she couldn't care less.
Her mind whirling with images of Sameen near death, Root grabbed her keys from the side table and ushered John out into the hallway. He raced for the elevator as Root locked her door with shaking hands. Chasing after him, she jumped into the opening elevator and pushed the button for the first floor.
A thousand questions filled her mind, but she couldn't ask any of them. Instead, she found herself trembling with anxiety. What had happened? Had the bar been raided again? Had someone followed Sameen through the dark city only to beat her? A robbery gone wrong?
The elevator door opened and Root exited into the lobby, moving ahead of John to open the door. His car was parked right in front of her building, the drivers' door still open. They were lucky no one had taken it, but the sight made her worry grow. How bad was it that John was in this state?
He opened the backseat to toss her suitcase inside the car and she went around the front. Getting inside the car, she put her seatbelt on and lifted a foot onto the dashboard so she could tie her laces. Beside her, John started the car and turned sharply to head back toward his house.
They rode in silence for a moment as Root tied her shoes and took deep breaths. When her shoes were secure, she dropped her feet onto the floor and slumped back in her seat. She needed to calm down. It wouldn't do any good to ambush Sameen in her panic.
Looking at John, she pushed her loose hair from her face. "What happened? How hurt is she?"
John's grip was tight on the steering wheel. "She was in a fight. She couldn't tell us anything, but two men brought her to my house. One was driving her motorcycle and one had her in his car. Half of her face is scratched up, her nose is broken, her hand is crushed. Harold's doctor said she probably has a broken rib or two. She's-"
His voice cracked and Root had to blink back the tears that threatened to spill over her face. John was so stoic and calm that she forgot how deeply he cared about the people close to him. He wasn't some cold-hearted adulterer. He loved Sameen as much as Root did, just in a different way.
Reaching across the center console, Root pried one of John's hands off the steering wheel and tangled their fingers together. She put their hands on her lap and smiled at him. Seeing him like this stirred some of the old fondness in Root.
"She'll pull through it," Root told him, trying to convince herself, too. "Sameen is so strong. You know that. You think she'd let a few stray punches get her down?"
John chuckled weakly. "No."
"No," Root repeated, squeezing his hand reassuringly. "She's going to be just fine. Furious. But fine."
John flashed her a tight smile. "Thanks."
Root held his hand loosely and leaned back against the passenger door. He looked good, despite the emergency. He had a nice haircut and his face was freshly shaved. He seemed to be thriving without her, happy with Harold and Grace. She wasn't sure how she felt about it. If she'd still had Sameen, she'd probably be happy for him.
He finally had the life he wanted and she was admitting her failure and leaving New York. At least, she had planned to. He glanced at her.
"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "For everything. I should have told you much, much sooner."
Root sighed, turning her head to watch the dark city. "I'm sorry, too. For cheating. For just leaving." She smirked. "For hitting you."
He chuckled. "Barely felt it. Besides, I deserved it."
"Yeah, you did."
They settled back into silence as they reached the edge of the city and started down the road to John's house. Root's heart was still racing, but she tried to remind herself that at least she was going to see Sameen. Sameen was going to get better and they were going to talk. Root would stay until they could talk.
"Thank you for coming to get me."
John nodded, his hand tightening around hers. "Of course."
She wondered if she should feel apprehensive about returning to John's house. It was the site of most of her pain, but it was also where so many good things had happened. Maybe she'd be uncomfortable when her fear for Sameen's life had faded. Something John had said caught up to her.
"Harold's doctor?" she asked, twisting in her seat to look at him. "Is Harold with her?"
John looked guilty for a moment. "He is. I was at his house when Shaw arrived and Harold called a doctor he knew to come look at her."
"Is she still at Harold's?"
"Yes." John glanced at her and away again as they passed the Texaco. "Please don't be too upset at me. We didn't want to move her in her current state. As soon as it's safe, we'll move her to my house and you can stay with her there. I mean, you can stay at my house now, obviously, but-"
"It's alright." Root looked out the windshield, watching the stop sign that marked John's road grow closer. "Whatever is best for Sameen."
A few hours ago, Root was sure that she was never going to see these people again or go to these places. Suddenly, for a terrible reason, she was thrust back into her old life. A part of her wanted to run away, just get out of the car and walk back to the city. She wanted to avoid the awkwardness and potential pain.
A larger part of her was happy to have a chance to see Sameen again, even in this condition. Root was ready to talk to her, apologize, and move forward. Unless Sameen didn't want to see or talk to her. When she woke, would Shaw demand that Root leave? Would she break Root's heart again?
The car stopped and Root realized that they were in John's driveway. Her thoughts of the future disappeared and she released John's hand so she could jump out of the car. Leaving the door open, she ran around the car, across Harold's yard, and up onto his porch. She pulled the unlocked door open and rushed inside before realizing that she didn't know where Sameen was.
Grace appeared from the master bedroom. When she saw Root, she gestured for her to come. "She's in here."
Root hurried past her, eyes falling on Sameen's unconscious body laying on the large bed. She moved to the other side and gingerly climbed on, crawling as unobtrusively as possible to Sameen. Looking at her, Root's heart clenched painfully.
The first thing she noticed was how long Sameen's hair was, like she hadn't cut it in the month and a half they'd been apart. Someone had put a headband on her, pushing her bangs back. It was cute, Root thought, brushing a hand over thick, dark hair.
Steeling herself, Root's eyes dropped to Sameen's face. The right side of her face was riddled with small scratches and covered in a dark purple bruise. Root could guess that it had been slammed against something. A piece of gauze had been placed over the scratches beside her nose, so it could be taped without hurting her. The tape had been stretched to her ear to reach some uninjured skin.
Lifting the blanket that covered her, Root held back a sob. Instead of Sameen's usual chest wrap, she was bound from her armpits to her waist in crisp, white bandages. There was no blood, but that didn't make Root feel any better. If anything, it made her feel worse. John had said she had cracked ribs. How bad was her bruising beneath that linen?
Her arms were bare and Root could see the clear imprint of a large hand, as purple as her face. Root wanted to gut the man who did this to her. She wanted to tear the city apart until that man was dead. Instead, she lay beside Sameen and took her hand carefully.
"Miss Groves," Harold said quietly from the doorway. When Root looked at him, he gave her a sympathetic smile. "Why don't you take your boots off and have a cup of coffee with us in the kitchen?"
Surprised, Root looked at her feet. She'd forgotten about her boots and climbed right onto their bed. Turning back to Sameen, Root told herself that she wasn't waking up anytime soon and that she wasn't dying either. Root could take some time to get settled and then come back to her side.
With a shaky breath, Root nodded and slowly let Shaw's hand go. Leaning close to her ear, Root brushed her lips against the soft skin. "I'll be right back."
She gently got off the bed, making sure she didn't jostle Sameen at all. Once she was standing, she followed the others into the kitchen. She felt strange, like none of this was real and she was going to wake up on her couch with a spilled bowl of ice cream and Dick Clark's too close face on the television.
Walking into the kitchen, she looked around, not sure what she should do. Grace appeared in front of her smiling, and guided her to the breakfast nook. Root slide into the cushioned booth. Lifting a foot onto the seat, she began untying her laces. It felt silly to take them off when she'd only just put them on.
"How do you take your coffee?" Grace asked her.
John moved to the coffeemaker. "I know," he said quietly. "I'll do it."
Root stared at him, mindlessly pulling her shoe off. He knew how she took her coffee? That seemed even stranger than being in Harold's house. She couldn't remember a time when he'd made her a cup. Pulling her eyes away from him, she dropped her boot to the floor and started unlacing the other one.
Harold sat in the booth beside her. "The doctor says she'll recover, but it may take a couple of weeks."
"Okay." Root pulled her other boot off and let it fall to the floor, too. A mug of coffee, the exact shade of beige she loved, was placed in front of her and she smiled weakly at John. "Thank you."
He just nodded and sat across from her. Grace sat beside him, eyes flicking between Harold and John. Root took a cautious sip of her coffee. It was perfect. The silence stretched between them and she took another sip.
"Do you know who those men might be?" John asked her. "The ones who brought her."
Root knew exactly who they were. "No."
Harold sighed heavily, placing his forearms on the table. "I'll ask around and see what I can glean. A beating that bad must have caught some attention." He winced and looked at Root. "I'm sorry."
Putting her mug down, Root shrugged. "Do your worst, Harold." She turned her hollow eyes in his direction. "Make them pay for this."
Something passed across his face and he raised his eyebrows. "I will, Miss Groves."
Drinking her coffee again, Root thought about what would happen if Harold found out about Elias, about Zoe, about Root's deal. He would probably handle it, or at least come to her first before bringing the federal government down on her head. He should remember that she has as much power over him as he had over her.
Finishing her coffee, she set the mug on the table. "I should get back to Sameen. In case she wakes up."
Harold rose stiffly from the booth and allowed her to follow. She left her boots where they were. The only thing that mattered to her was being with Sameen while she recovered. Ignoring the others, she left the kitchen and walked to the master bedroom.
The carpet was soft under her bare feet, her toes sinking in with every step. She couldn't tell if it comforted her or made the situation worse. It hadn't been too long ago that she'd been unconscious in John's bed and Sameen had been tending to her. This time, there was a real chance that Sameen might never wake-up.
Walking into the bedroom, Root walked around the bed again and climbed back in. She slid under the covers, thankful that she was already in her pajamas. It was warm in the bed, Sameen's natural heat seeping into Root. Moving Sameen's hand under the blanket, Root wrapped both of her hands around it, holding on like it was her only lifeline.
She had been so ready to leave Sameen, but that was only because she'd assumed Sameen was happy and healthy somewhere else. Root couldn't imagine a world where Sameen was dead. Knowing that Sameen was traveling the country, causing trouble wherever she went, had given Root the confidence to do the same. If Sameen was still in New York, how was Root supposed to leave?
A groan startled Root and she pushed herself up onto her elbow to look down at Sameen. Slowly, Sameen's eyes blinked open and tried to focus. Root pushed her hair behind her ear so it stayed out of Sameen's face and the movement got Sameen's attention.
Dark, groggy eyes met Root's and, for a moment, Sameen smiled up at her. Then, her expression shifted. Her eyebrows drew down angrily and she scowled. Her hand pulled out of Root's and touched the bandages on her face.
"What happened?" she asked gruffly. She glanced at Root and away again. "What are you doing here?"
A knot formed in her stomach at the question. She swallowed hard. "You were in a fight," she answered, "we think. Two men brought you and your motorcycle to John's house."
Sameen snorted and then hissed as the movement hurt her nose. "That doesn't tell me why you're here."
"I…" Root felt like an idiot for rushing to Sameen's side when Sameen didn't even want her there. "John came to my apartment and told me what happened." She flushed, pushing the blanket away from her legs. "I can go."
"Wait." Sameen's hand caught her arm. When Root turned back to look at her, she was met with an unreadable gaze. "Why did you come with him?"
"Because," Root started before hesitating. Her blush deepened. "Because I love you. Because I wouldn't be able to live with myself knowing you were hurt and I had done nothing. Because I wanted to."
Sameen's face softened, the tips of her ears turning pink. She nodded and licked her lips. "You can stay."
When she let go of Root's arm, Root slipped back under the blanket, arranging it carefully. She lay on her side facing Sameen, waiting for her to say something else. After a long moment, Sameen's head fell to the side to look at Root. Like this, the bruise on her face was hidden by the pillow and Root could almost pretend this was a nice night.
"I attacked Zoe."
Root gasped, sitting up in shock. "What? Is that what happened?"
Rolling her eyes, Sameen tugged Root back down. "Her two hulking bodyguards happened."
"Why would you do that?"
Sameen hesitated, her hand still on Root's arm. "I was angry at her. For involving you with the mob. She shouldn't have done that." Her fingers plucked at Root's shirt. "I shouldn't have tried to jump her and… I shouldn't have left you."
Knowing that that was the best apology she was going to get, and recognizing how much Sameen must have thought about the situation to give one at all, Root smiled. "Thank you."
Sameen sniffed, wincing. "Whatever."
Reaching out, Root brushed her hand over Sameen's unmarred cheek. "I should have listened to you. You have so much more experience than I do and I got jealous of that. I want to be worldly and wild like you, but I'm just starting out again."
"You'll get there."
"I know," Root chuckled. "But I can take my time. If you want," she started, trying to sound light and casual, "we could take our time together."
Sameen took a deep breath and froze. Her free hand lifted the blanket to see the bandages around her chest. Frowning, she looked at Root.
"Damn. I really got the shit kicked out of me."
Root laughed, finding Sameen's ability to joke despite the dire situation incredibly endearing. She pulled the blanket back down. "Yeah. You did."
Sameen chuckled lightly and let Root tuck her in. Sighing, she smiled. "We can take our time. It's not going to be easy, but… I'd like to try."
"That's enough for me, Sameen." Root pressed a careful kiss to Sameen's lips and smiled down at her. "Let's start with tonight. We can figure it out from there."
"Sure thing," Sameen breathed, her eyes fluttering shut. "Sleep tight, wild girl."