15. Blame
Harvey scrubs a hand over the back of his neck, leaning forward on the hospital chair with a heavy sigh. He'd gone in with Donna to see Zoey, but hadn't stayed, not wanting his presence to hinder anything the girl potentially felt uncomfortable disclosing in front of a stranger. The woman has been through enough of an ordeal, and he clasps his fingers together, elbows digging into his knees as his mind brings up vivid flashes of her injuries.
It's been nearly an hour since he'd relocated to the waiting room, but the bruises covering her face have imprinted into his memory, selfish reasons blanketing him with guilt. He can't shake the relief that Donna wasn't the one hurt. That she'd escaped the brunt of Pullman's aggression by a mere twist of fate. The thought of her lying where Zoey is now makes him physically nauseous, and a tremor of anger hurtles through him, leaving with a rigid exhale.
He should have beat the shit out of Pullman when he'd had the chance. Taking the passive approach had left him riddled with anxiety, and Zoey suffering the consequences of his decision has brought those feelings back with a vengeance. He'd lasted twenty minutes before breaking his promise to Donna and calling Samantha, needing a semblance of control to ground him. She'd answered the questions he'd fired, reacting calmly as he'd scolded her over the night's events, and now he knows what set Pullman off—the information pitted like a rock in his stomach.
Samantha had promised him justice, her fiery determination reminding him why he'd wanted her involved. If she hadn't been poised to take down the asshole before, she's gunning for the privilege now, her assurance depleting his frustration. She'd told him to look after Donna while she fixes things, and her resolve had been the same as his own during the Liberty Rail case, when Donna had been up on fraud charges. He'd forgone using a soft hand to get the job done, but he's on the opposite side of the situation this time. His role isn't to get Donna out of trouble, it's comforting her—safe in the knowledge Samantha will do the rest, and this is the side he needs to be on. The way she'd broken down in his bedroom earlier is still haunting him, the guilt that had rained through her tears making his chest crack with helplessness. She has no reason to blame herself, but he knows she will. Like when Louis found out about Mike or when Stephen Huntley blindsided them all. She can read people better than anyone, but also takes on the weight of their emotions when she feels responsible for things going wrong.
He's seen it before, and again during the cab ride here, when she'd barely uttered two words, trapped by whatever thoughts were rolling around her head. He'd been worried about the impact seeing Zoey might have, but her persona had switched the second they'd crossed the threshold into Zoey's hospital room. She'd emanated a strength of character that had surprised him—the seamless shift making him reflect on all the times over the years he'd assumed she was fine, when maybe she really hadn't been. The notion her acting skills might have been used for something other than the stage or to tease him, has landed heavily tonight, but he's looking out for the signs now.
He's not her boss sitting on the other side of a closed office door. He's her boyfriend, and when a shadow crosses his peripheral, moving faster than anyone else's, he instinctively knows it belongs to Donna and glances up, confused when she drives past him without stopping. He grabs his coat, haphazardly shrugging it on as he chases after her, realizing she has no intention of slowing. Instead, she hurries through the exit, and is half-way down the stairs to the carpark when he finally calls out to her. "Donna, wait—"
She stalls at the bottom, hearing his heavy foot-fall behind her, and a painful sigh fills her chest as she turns to register his presence. She'd almost forgotten he'd been waiting, too consumed by anger, and she tucks her arms across her front, meeting his gaze as he hovers a few steps above her.
"Where are you going?" he asks, struggling to place why she's in such a hurry.
She narrows her eyes, frustrated he's even asking when the answer should be obvious—she's not going to let Collin get away with what he did. If the police haven't already found him, then she's going to make damn sure he knows he fucked up. "You know where."
Her clenched jaw tells him exactly what she's planning to do and he exhales sharply, no goddamn way in hell he's letting her confront the asshole. She's clearly not thinking straight, and the distance between them suddenly makes him nervous, but he stands his ground, trying to reach her with reason rather than telling her what to do—having learnt the latter rarely ends well. "The police have enough to arrest him, Donna. Let them—"
"Would you?" she snaps, anticipating the bullshit argument, and pissed he's using it against her. Because if someone in his family circle had been hurt, he wouldn't be standing around dishing out lectures, he'd be doing something about it. "If that was Mike in there... Or me—" she hits back "—you'd go home, pour a scotch and just wait it out?"
He flinches, struggling with what to say. She knows damn well he wouldn't, but that alone should be enough to convince her it's a bad idea, and he does the same thing she would if their situations were reversed. "Tell me you even know where to start," he challenges, forcing her to think rationally. "An address, anything?"
She glares at him, not caring that he's right. She'll find a way to get the information and turns on her heel in search of a cab.
He reacts on impulse, snatching her wrist to stop her from leaving, but she tears free with a force that rattles through him, the color draining from her face as she rushes air into her lungs and—shit. He hadn't meant to grab her like that. He hadn't been thinking, his heart jamming in his throat as he tentatively reaches to steady her. "I'm sorry... hey." He presses his fingers lightly against her arm, trying to calm her down. "It's just me, okay? I'm right here."
She nods, slowly coming back to herself, and he opens his arms, overcome with relief when she turns into them. He sweeps her up, wrapping himself around her shuddering frame, realizing she's probably in shock—either from what happened to Zoey or what she went through herself, and she's right. He's suffocated by the urge to rip Pullman apart limb by limb, but he swallows the urge, soothing his hand through her hair and holding her tightly. "I've got you."
She screws her eyes shut, sliding beneath his coat and burying herself in the soft fabric of his sweater. He would never never physically hurt her. Not on purpose. But his hold had launched her back into the room with Collin, and she's riddled with guilt over the association—at how easily she sinks into the weight of Harvey's comfort when she'd promised Zoey justice. But he'd been down the same road with his worry; had opened up to her about his fears when he hadn't been in a position to protect her, and she has a new appreciation for his resilience, her breathing becoming steadier as she reconciles with everything he went through, trusting his instincts over her own.
She pulls back, her eyes washing over him in silent apology, and he can feel his anger still simmering beneath the surface—directed at the Pullman for making her believe she's at fault. But he doesn't need to lash out to stay in control anymore. He's been granted the opportunity to do things the right way, and he's not going to mess things up by letting old habits steer him in the wrong direction. Donna needs him calm and focused, and he softens his expression, guiding his hand over her shoulder. "Come on," he says gently. "Let's get you home."
She lets herself be steered towards where there are cabs parked, knowing deep down that he's right—she needs to let the police deal with Collin. When Harvey had tried to take matters into his own hands, it hadn't helped the situation, only made things worse, and she doesn't question when he gives the driver instructions to his condo. She has a bag there anyway, and Harvey still has to work in a few hours—the thought of her own unemployed status resting heavily as they travel through the early morning traffic. She'd told him they'd talk more about her old job as COO, but the conversation hadn't reared itself. And up until now she'd been adamant about not returning, but suddenly the idea feels like a safe and easy option. She isn't sure she has the energy to push through a class action suit while starting her career over for a third time in as many months, the lack of motivation another notch of failure as they pull up outside his apartment building.
She moves sluggishly, exhausted, and ready to waste the day in a sleep-filled oblivion—swallowing a silent protest when Harvey guides her to the couch before disappearing into his bedroom. She reluctantly seats herself on the leather cushions, assuming he's going to shower and change, but he emerges a few minutes later, wearing the same clothes, and her eyes trail him to the kitchen, confused when he sets about making tea.
When he's finished, he joins her with the two steaming mugs, answering the questioning look she directs his way. "I called Robert, told him I'm taking the day," he explains, sitting the cups down and dropping onto the cushions beside her. "And before you tell me I don't need to stay, I know I don't have to... I can go work in the other room if you need some space—but I want to be here, Donna. You shouldn't be alone right now."
She pulls her feet up with a sigh, trying to force a smile when he hands over her drink, letting her fingers slide around its warmth. She hadn't expected him to stay, and takes a sip of the beverage, touched by the gesture and finding his gaze. "You really can do the comfort thing."
"Just don't tell Louis," he scoffs, winding his lips around a small smirk. "He'll want me to go mudding with him, or some stupid shit like that."
A hum of amusement catches in her throat, and maybe he's right about needing a distraction. It beats facing up to thoughts she'd rather avoid, and she nudges his thigh with her sock. "No mudding. Any other plans in mind?"
She eyes him over the rim of her mug, and he tugs her foot, tempted to play along, but he knows better than anyone what she's trying to achieve. He's an expert at bottling up feelings and is still worried by the reaction she'd had back at the hospital. Even though she'd described everything she'd been through with Collin, she hadn't really told him about it, and he sinks into the couch, testing if she's ready to open up "You could tell me what really happened with Pullman."
She tenses, her grip tightening around the tea in her hands. "You know what happened."
"I do," he agrees quietly, gently squeezing her ankle. She'd walked him through the necessary details, all the events leading up to Pullman turning physical, but she'd been clinical with the approach, and he doubts she's talked to anyone about how she actually felt. Maybe Rachel. But even then she would have been careful with her words, not wanting to worry the woman residing on the other side of the country. Her silence is something he's been thinking about a lot, since the morning they'd spent standing shoulder to shoulder, staring out across the East River. They've discussed their relationship since, but he's been waiting for the right time to coax more, and he skims his thumb over her skin, rubbing small, soothing circles under the hem of her slacks "The night we met for a drink you were upset..." He treads carefully, casting his mind back to the evening she'd glossed over her unsettled behavior. She'd claimed her experience had come into question at S&P which had seemed strange given her command of a room, and he bites the inside of his cheek, blowing out a slow exhale. "That was because of him."
She drops her gaze, recalling the time for herself—how she'd been completely closed off, refusing to hint at the real truth. She hadn't wanted Harvey involved, figuring Collin was her problem to deal with, but even though things are different now, she still peels her feet away from him, drawing her knees up to her chest. Rehashing everything she'd been through won't change what happened, and it's not going to help Zoey either. "What do you want me to say, Harvey? You know it was."
He feels empty not being within reach, and he slides his palm across his thigh, torn between dropping the subject and voicing his concern. She's been through enough without reopening old wounds—the hurt he'd inflicted included—but he wants to make up for the way he'd acted and fix what he can now. "I can stop pushing, Donna," he offers, searching for a middle ground. "But I'm not going to stop worrying."
She glances up again, reading the lines of exhaustion wrinkled around his calm expression. Calm, because he's not trying to pressure her, but he isn't hiding his worry either, and she rests the cup over her slacks balancing the fragrant liquid. She'd pushed him away that night at the bar. And at the firm. Again, when he'd shown up at her apartment—but this isn't the same. Or at least, that's how she tries to justify her hesitation, because not asking what happened, he's asking how she'd felt, the difference lodging a tight knot in her throat. She'd been livid leaving the hospital, not just due to Collin's actions, but because of the fear present in Zoey's eyes. The girl had been terrified, and even though her own ordeal hadn't come close to the horrific experience, she can still feel the weight of Collin's grip, his hot disgusting breath crawling over her skin as he'd pushed his growing erection against her thigh. He'd taken his anger out on Zoey, but his intent with her had been different, and she breathes in raggedly, staring down into the tea resting over her knees. She'd told Harvey it was nothing, acted like it didn't matter, but she'd been fickle with the truth because, aside from not wanting to face it, there'd been a wall between them that seemed impenetrable. But he's here now, going out of his way to prove those barriers don't exist anymore, and she doesn't want to drag them backwards. She wants to be honest, and knots her brows together, warring with the ghost of something that didn't happen, but could have, unfolding in her mind. "When he grabbed me, I didn't think—I thought he was just trying to intimidate me," she admits, her voice straining through a whisper. "But then he pushed me up against the desk—I felt him… and I knew he wasn't going to stop."
A white hot rage churns in Harvey's stomach as he shifts closer. The assumption had darkened his thoughts more than once, and having her confirm what he'd suspected does nothing to diminish his anger, but he smothers it for Donna's sake. She doesn't have to verbally acknowledge her fear for him to see it, and he cups his hand over her knee, trying to convey he can handle whatever she's feeling—that he's not going anywhere. But he does have his own confession to make. Information he wasn't sure whether to bring up now or leave until she's had more time to process everything. He thought he was doing the right thing by gauging her first but she keeps reminding him why he's never had to doubt her strength, and doesn't want to hide this from her, not when she'd just found it within herself to be completely honest. "Donna, there's something I need to tell you..."
Her gaze lifts up, caught off guard by his hesitancy, and she swallows roughly, almost afraid to ask, but she forces the question out. "What is it?"
He leaves his palm resting where it is, silently hoping its position might somehow funnel through the best of his intentions. "I called Samantha while you were in with Zoey. I know you wanted to wait, and I probably should have—"
"Harvey," she stops him, leaning her head against the couch, managing to lift her lips slightly. "It's okay. I'm glad you spoke with her." She'd been too preoccupied to even think about filling the woman in and isn't upset he'd reached out. What worries her is the trepidation still stretched across his features, and her mouth drops back into a frown. "She found something."
He nods, confirming the assumption and relieved she didn't mind him making the call, even though the information backs up what they'd both been afraid Pullman was capable of. "She accessed a closed case from the late nineties, the alleged rape of a woman that Ted Pullman had buried. Not long after, Collin was hired by S&P. The complaints against him started there a few years later, and almost all of them coincide with NDA's and large payments being made to the women involved. Samantha's going to officially subpoena the records, but after what happened to Zoey, she's going to push for a maximum prison sentence."
"How long? she asks, grappling with the news, and what it means going forward.
"Five years." He slides his thumb over the fabric of her slacks, wishing he could tell her the prick would rot in a cell for the majority of his life, but in the least, Ted Pullman won't dare try assassinating her character in what's now going to be a public trial. Zoey's going to get the justice she deserves and Collin's going to spend the next portion of his life regretting the day he dared try to undermine Donna in her role.
Even though he'd had reservations, one more asshole like Pullman behind bars is doing the world a social justice, and he couldn't be more proud of the way she'd handled the situation. "I know it doesn't make up for what happened, but you weren't wrong to go after him."
The words would offer more comfort if Zoey hadn't been hurt, but she knows he means well by them, and she sets her mug down on the table, seamlessly shifting into a new position with her head resting against his chest. The weight of his arms lock around her shoulders, and she breathes a small sigh, wondering how she would have coped if they hadn't found their way back to each other—if he hadn't fought for it to happen. "Thank you."
He furrows his brow, pressing his mouth gently to the top of her head. "For what?"
"Everything," she answers, not sure the comment actually offers any more insight, but the biggest change in their relationship recently hasn't just been physical. Since getting together he's put her needs above his own at every hurdle, even taking the day because he understood—more than she did—that having someone to talk to was better than hiding herself away. She's always boasted confidence and trusted her instincts, but he's showing her it's okay to let her guard down in the rare moments she can't. They're learning from each other, and she settles her hand over his heart, letting the soft beat hum through her fingertips. "I'm glad you're here."
"Always," he murmurs, sliding his hand through her hair, and breathing in the vanilla scent. Over a decade spent keeping his distance and there's nowhere else he'd rather be.
...
…
The news of Collin's arrest reaches Donna before Zoey, because the police are competent but Samantha is better and had charged out from the helm with a battleaxe in hand. Which is why, when Donna finds herself back at the hospital, she has complete assurance relaying the details to Zoey, masking her guilt as the younger woman readies herself to be discharged.
Harvey hovers behind Donna, staying mostly quiet, except to back-up the facts where he can. In his mind—and probably everybody else's—five years isn't enough, but Zoey seems to take comfort from the pending verdict, sinking gingerly onto the edge of the bed with a relieved sigh. Sensing she could use a minute, he clears his throat, light brushing Donna's arm. "I'll go chase up the release paperwork."
He shuffles from the room, prompting Zoey's gaze to lift, the ghost of a smirk softening her aching jaw and the exhaustion washing over her as she teases her former boss. "He's cute when he's awkward."
Donna isn't sure how to respond to the comment, relieved the woman is obviously feeling better, but stumbling over herself, heat flushing her cheeks as she manifests a defence.
"He's not great with—" People, emotions, comforting words. "—hospitals." Zoey pulls her up with a raised eyebrow, but she steers the conversation back to her former assistant. "Don't deflect." She prods with a small smile. "How are you feeling?"
"Bruised ribs are a bitch, but at least that asshole's getting what he deserves." It had taken a few moments for everything to sink in, but she knows she was right to put her faith in Donna. She's still shaken, and it's going to take time to move on from what happened, but if nothing else, she can take comfort from the fact Collin won't be able to intimidate or hurt anybody else for years to come. Five years might not have seemed like much to Harvey, but for her it's breathing space, and she can sense for Donna it is too. "There is one thing you can do for me."
Donna takes in Zoey's more serious expression, prepared to do whatever she can to make up for the damage her actions caused. "Anything."
"Stop blaming yourself for what happened." She watches a flicker of guilt flash across Donna's face, vanishing before it has a chance to take root, and maybe her former boss isn't used to people reading or calling her out, but she'd sensed the underlying tension radiating from Harvey the moment the pair had stepped into her room earlier this morning. Her initial research into Harvey had returned stories of a fierce man who didn't show his emotions, but he's been wearing his heart on his sleeve since the day they met—and the lawyer's worry aside, Donna's lack of response tells her she's right on the mark. "You didn't do this, Collin did… and you're not responsible for his actions."
Donna dips her head, breathing out slowly. "I know." The acknowledgement doesn't relieve the burden she's been shouldering, but it does help her to see things from a different perspective, and she clears her throat, doing what she can to fulfill the girl's ask. "You're right."
Zoey eyes her, suspecting the assurance is at best partially forced, but it's start, and she delivers her own good news—something that's helped her gain some control back since the last time they spoke. "Ted Pullman came to see me."
"He was here?" Donna bristles, having lost all respect for the silent partner, and is instantly apprehensive of his motivations. "What did he want?"
"To offer he's deepest condolences," she mocks, knowing his visit was a more political play than anything. But she could read the desperation behind his attempts to save the face of his company, which had subsequently given her the boost of strength she'd needed to stand up to him. "I told him to go to hell."
Relief washes over Donna, but just because the man has no integrity, doesn't mean Zoey shouldn't be compensated for what she's been through. The truth of his influence is going to come to light, she and Samantha will make sure of it, but she's curious to hear how he'd tried to weasel his way out of taking responsibility for his son's actions. "I'm guessing he came back with a better offer?"
"He tried." Zoey slides her hand gingerly over her ribs, sitting up straighter on the bed. It hadn't taken her long to realise she'd held a position of power over the senior partner, but she wasn't going to start making demands or do anything without speaking to Donna first. She'd played her cards close to her chest, not giving the man an inch. "I said I wasn't talking to him without a lawyer, but judging by his face—I could have asked for an Island in the Caymans and he would have jumped on the phone to organize it."
The only thing that stops Donna from smirking is Zoey's discomfort, but she shields her feelings of guilt, not wanting to break her promise to the girl. If Zoey can run rings around Ted Pullman after everything that happened, then she can swallow her concern and rise to the same challenge. "Well, it just so happens I know an excellent lawyer, best closer in NYC, and he's at your disposal."
Zoey slips her palm back down against the mattress, stealing the opportunity to forget about technicalities for a moment, and focus on something more positive. "You mean your hot-shot lawyer boyfriend," she prods, watching Donna flush, and it might be the first time she's ever actually seen the redhead lost for words. "So long as he knows I'm not going to consider working at S&P unless you come back with me."
Donna's gaze flashes to her in surprise, the warmth tickling her skin spreading down to the base of her neck. "Zoey, you don't have to—"
"I'm not." She shakes her head, giving Donna credit where it's due. Although she's in a position to make the demand, when the news broke about Collin, she'd been flooded with messages from colleagues at S&P and amongst them had been an email from Trevor in finance, saying he was appalled by how both women had been treated. He'd offered his full support, along with several other department heads, and she knows the reason behind the solidarity has nothing to do with saving face.
Before Donna's influence, the company had been stoic by nature, but when the redhead had been fired, people had started questioning themselves, and she has a feeling the place is about to enter a new era—one that would thrive with Donna at the helm. "You weren't just a good boss," she says honestly. "Everyone there respects the hell out of you, they were just too afraid of losing their jobs to say something—but you stood up to Collin, and that's the kind of person I want to be working with."
Moisture stings Donna's gaze, and she breathes in deeply, drawing strength from the compliment She'd wanted to protect Zoey and is still coming to terms with how everything played out, but if working for Harvey has taught her anything, it's that loyalty goes both ways. Zoey is family, and she swipes her cheek, mustering a genuine smile. "How can I say no to that?" she asks, nodding her head towards the door. Because she might have been caught off guard by the woman's support, but she's no stranger to reading people herself. "Especially when you've been ignoring your own hot-shot architect boyfriend all this time."
Zoey's eyes widen, her mouth gaping open. "How did you—"
"Because I'm Donna," she answers, not missing a beat. The only reason she'd felt comfortable leaving earlier was because of the man's presence. And it hadn't taken much for her to piece together he was the same guy Zoey had told her about over drinks—the man she'd looked into the very next day, vetting him just in case. "Seems to me he's ready to start something?"
Her cheeks flare with embarrassment, but she's quick to turn things back around. "So that advice to cut and run…"
"Might have been a little premature." Donna admits, the timing coinciding with Harvey's soft foot-fall back into the room. He's holding some papers in his grasp, still not entirely sure what to do with himself, and she takes them from him, handing the paperwork over to Zoey and pressing her fingers into his side when she notices a second figure hovering in the doorway.
She's under no illusion the next few weeks are going to be easy, but they're going to get through them, and they're going to be stronger for it.
AN: Sorry again for the delay! Thank you to Southsidesister (darvey_love) for being my eyes ️(and teaching my how to use them :P) ❤️