Behold the Child Read Online Free

Kenzie?"
    Kenzie squirmed on the uncomfortably soft couch and manufactured an exasperated sigh. "Of course I fucking love her. Don't be ridiculous."
    Dr. Greenburg was an almost absurdly mild-looking man who reminded Kenzie of a younger Woody Allen. His thinning hair was in disarray, and his thick glasses caused his eyes to mushroom. A small rectangle of sunlight reflected directly off Greenburg's balding pate; it looked like a doorway to another world.
    "You fucking love her?" Greenburg rolled the word around on his tongue, almost tasted it. "I wonder why you would choose to phrase it that way."
    Kenzie felt his palms moisten. This nerd Greenburg scared him a little. That fact, in turn, made him angry. "Look, I came in here to waste time and money because my boss asked me to. He thought it might help my . . . flashbacks. So far, all you've done is act like some caricature of a therapist."
    Dr. Greenburg pursed his lips like a woman applying lipstick. He nodded "Point taken," he said. "You are being direct with me, and I can appreciate that. So let us cut to the chase, as they say."
    Kenzie leaned back on the couch cushions. It felt like falling into cotton candy. "Yeah. Please get to the point, okay? I'm not here to play games."
    "I asked about your love for your wife for one particular reason, Detective Kenzie. You have admitted to occasional affairs, as well as a fondness for strip bars and lap dancers. I was simply trying to explore your reasoning and justifications for such . . . extracurricular behavior."
    "What, because I love my wife I can't touch any other pussy, is that it?"
    "That," Greenburg said with a touch of sarcasm, "is what is generally meant by the term 'till death do you part.'" Kenzie noticed that the psychiatrist's cheeks had gone a bit pink.
    Kenzie sat up. "I was under the impression therapists were not supposed to render moral judgments. Did I miss something somewhere?"
    Greenburg blushed more deeply. "Frankly, it is difficult for me to not have some sympathy for your wife, under the circumstances. You have indicated that she wishes to have children and that she had an abortion for your sake. One would think . . . "
    Kenzie sighed. "Okay, Greenburg, look. Whatever you may think of me, I do love Laura deeply and I would never want to hurt her in any way. Cops have stressful lives, as you well know. Sometimes I blow off a little steam, that's all. But Laura has never known about it, and she never will."
    Greenburg started to respond and Kenzie could read the thought: How can you be sure? But Greenburg held himself in check. He merely shrugged. "Was your father unfaithful, Sam?"
    For some reason the use of his first name made Kenzie relax. He nodded absently. "I guess that probably figures, huh?"
    "At the risk of sounding like 'a caricature of a therapist,' what was your childhood like, Sam? Where did you grow up?"
    "In Twin Forks, Nevada," Kenzie said. "And it was okay, I guess. My aunts and uncles all lived together on a small ranch. They had a tough time making it."
    Greenburg wrote something down on his notepad and Kenzie cringed a bit. "What about your mother and father?"
    "I'd rather not talk about that."
    "Why not?"
    "Let's not go there, okay"
    Greenburg made another note. He leaned back in his chair. "I was just wondering if your avoidance of starting a family might have something to do with your own experiences as a child."
    Kenzie found himself half way to his feet before he could halt or disguise the intensity of his reaction. He blushed and sat down. " Touché ," he muttered. "A hit, a palpable hit."
    "Shakespeare?" Greenburg said, one eyebrow arched. "I thought you were something of a cowboy."
    "Good teachers. In high school, and a year or two of college. We moved to California when I was a teenager." Kenzie leaned back into the annoying cushions. After a long moment, said: "We were rednecks. My father used to beat the shit out of me and my mother was a drunk. Are you satisfied,