Shadow Man Read Online Free PDF

law-enforcement agents for a decade now. You people, you are made of such strong stuff. I’ve seen all the best parts of humanity in this office. Dedication. Bravery. Honor. Duty. Sure, I’ve seen a little evil, some corruption. But that’s been the exception, not the rule. Mostly, I’ve seen strength. Unbelievable strength. Strength of character, of the soul.” He pauses, shrugs. “We’re not supposed to discuss the soul, in my profession. Not supposed to believe in it, really. Good and evil? They’re just broad concepts, not things defined.” He looks at me, grim. “But they aren’t just concepts, are they?”
    I continue to stare at my hands.
    “You and your peers, you hoard your strength like a talisman. You act as if it has some finite source. Like Samson and his hair. You seem to think if you break down and really open up in here, you’ll lose that strength and never get it back.” He’s quiet again, for a good long while. I feel empty and desolate. “I’ve been doing this for some time, Smoky, and you’re one of the strongest people I’ve ever met. I can say with near certainty that none of the people I’ve treated in the past would be able to endure what you’ve suffered, are suffering. Not one of them.”
    I manage to make myself look at him. I wonder if he’s making fun of me. Strong? I don’t feel strong. I feel weak. I can’t even hold my gun. I look at him, and he looks back at me, and it’s an unflinching gaze that I recognize with a jolt. I’ve given blood-drenched crime scenes that gaze. Dismembered corpses. I am able to look on those horrors, and not look away. Dr. Hillstead is giving me the same look, and I realize that this is his gift: He is able to give the horrors of the soul a steady, unwavering gaze. I’m his crime scene, and he’ll never turn away in distaste or revulsion.
    S H A D O W M A N
    25
    “But I know you are at your breaking point, Smoky. And that means I can do one of two things: Watch you break and die, or force you to open up and let me help you. I choose the second one.”
    I can feel the truth of his words, their sincerity. I’ve looked at a hundred lying criminals. I like to think I can smell a lie in my sleep. He’s telling me the truth. He wants to help me.
    “So now the ball’s in your court. You can get up and leave, or we can move on from here.” He smiles at me, a tired smile. “I can help you, Smoky. I really can. I can’t make it not have happened. I can’t promise that you won’t hurt for the rest of your life. But I can help you. If you’ll let me.”
    I stare at my shrink, and I can feel it all struggling inside me. He’s right. I’m a female Samson, and he’s a male Delilah, except that he’s telling me it won’t hurt me to cut my hair this time. He’s asking me to trust him in a way I don’t trust anyone. Except myself. And . . . ? I hear the little voice inside ask. I close my eyes in response. Yeah. And Matt.
    “Okay, Dr. Hillstead. You win. I’ll give it a shot.”
    I know it’s right the moment I say it, because I stop shaking. I wonder if what he’d said was true. About my strength, I mean. Do I have the strength to live?

    4
    I ’M STANDING AT the front of the LA FBI offices on Wilshire. I look up at the building, trying to feel something about it. Nothing.
    This is not a place I belong to right now; instead, I feel it judging me. Frowning down at me with a face of concrete, glass, and steel. Is this how civilians see it, I wonder? As something imposing and perhaps a little hungry?
    I catch my reflection in the glass of the front doors and cringe inside. I was going to wear a suit, but that felt like too much of a commitment to success. Sweats were too little. As a testimony to indecisiveness, I had opted for jeans and a button-down blouse, simple flats on my feet, light makeup. Now it all feels inadequate, and I want to run, run, run.
    Emotions are rolling in like waves, cresting and crashing. Fear, anxiety, anger,