Atonement (The Atonement Series) (23 page)

I didn’t realize I was crying until the tears continued to roll down my face and Colin threw his cigarette along the pavement before he wiped my tears away and slipped his arms around my neck.

“Baby, I don’t hate you. It happened and people make mistakes. I’m not calling the night between you and Liam one because if that is what you wanted to do then you did it, we accept it and move on. It isn’t the first time he’s stolen a girl from underneath me but he won’t ever have that chance again—not with you. I promise.”

I threw my cigarette to the ground and crushed it underneath my shoe. “Are you sure you’re okay with this because my sister made me feel like crap and I can’t have you hating me.”

“I’m not okay with it but what can I do? I still love you like I have never loved another and I can get over it. You’re the one…I know it…and yeah, I hate Liam knows what you look like without any clothes but it isn’t the end of the world.”

He slid his hands over my face as we looked at one another and the way his thumb caressed my chin, I knew we would be okay.

“Come on, let’s go back to the apartment,” I murmured.

Colin gave me a look of incredulousness. “Um, not without finishing our beers. Then we can go back to the apartment.”

I smiled and nodded. “Fine. Let’s go finish our beers and then go back to the apartment where you will peel off my clothes and make love to me.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Our foreheads pressed together and I knew there and then we would be all right.

Chapter Fifteen

AFTER BERLIN, WE
flew to Amsterdam and one of the best—and worst—times of our lives.

It was quite different being surrounded around hash cafes and the red light district just a short walk from where we were staying.

I was actually quite glad Colin had suggested we use other people’s apartments because it made the experience of being in each city that much more special. We spent the second day in the city walking around the red light district and visited both the Sex Museum and the Anne Frank House before we rounded out our day at The Grasshopper with yet more lager and some of the best marijuana I’d smoked in my life.

Somewhere between my third lager and my second joint, it hit me and I realized I had more than my fill. I was going to be sick and not in a good way. I rushed to the toilet and thanked God one was available because my lunch and all the lager I drank rushed up before I could bend over all the way.

Someone knocked on my door and inquired in English, “Are you okay in there?”

I braced the toilet seat. “Yes, thank you. I think I overdid the pot and beer, that’s all.”

The female voice laughed. “Yeah, that happens to Yanks a lot. They forget how strong the pot is here and they end up smoking too much.”

I wiped my mouth with toilet paper before I flushed and opened the door to face a tall blonde who looked friendly enough. Her accent was definitely Dutch though it was hardly there and her blue-green eyes shined brightly.

“I’m Carolien. I actually work here but it’s my off night and I’m here with my boyfriend. You want some company?”

I washed out my mouth at the sink before I washed my hands, dried and finally shook her hand. “Deirdre. Sure, I think that would be great but I didn’t expect to be…approached as I have read the Dutch are pretty reserved.”

She laughed out loud. “We are except your boyfriend is a van der Meer and he speaks fluent Dutch like he was born and raised in the middle-class section of The Hague. It turns out his father was, and our families know one another’s. Imagine that. My mother had a huge crush on his father when they were growing up. She knew he moved to America but what are the odds I would run into his son all these years later at The Grasshopper?”

“That is quite the coincidence. I suppose your boyfriend has him cornered and they are having some bullshit conversation in fluent Dutch.”

Carolien nodded. “Yep. When I saw you bolt up the stairs, I knew something was wrong. You two are being careful, aren’t you?”

I stared at her as if she was speaking a foreign language. “What ever do you mean?”

“I mean, you’re on something, right?”

“Oh…
that
…yeah, we’re cool and it’s taken care of.”

“Okay because when I first got preggers with Maartje, I was the same way. Sick as a dog and you kind of reminded me of that when I heard you in the toilet.”

“No, I think I just drank too much. We’ve only been here for two and half weeks. City hopping and soon, our vacation will be over and it’ll be back to Seattle. I start a new job when we get back and he’s opening his own business so I would hope nothing like that would happen. It would be quite inconvenient.”

Carolien laughed again as we walked out to the patio area. Ironically, marijuana could be smoked indoors but cigarettes couldn’t therefore we had chosen to sit on the patio.

“You Americans and your inconveniences. Do you think a baby gives a shit about you starting a new job? Or him opening a business? Do you plan to be all traditional and get married first before the babies come? I know that is very important in your culture.”

“Well,” I began slowly, “it’s only half my culture like it is Colin’s. My dad was from France and my mother—well, the woman who raised me—is from southern England so although I grew up in the States, my parents’ weren’t exactly conventional. I don’t really think my mom would care if I had a baby out of wedlock, as long as the father and I planned to make a life together.”

“It’s a good attitude to have. Jens and I aren’t married and probably won’t even though we have Maartje. It doesn’t seem like something that has to happen, you know?”

I nodded in reply, not because I didn’t agree but because she had me spooked. I knew I wasn’t pregnant but that whole “P” word was the reason why I was never promiscuous. Everyone knew no form of birth control was one hundred percent accurate and accidents could happen but God knows I didn’t want that to be the case between Colin and I.

The moment I saw him chatting to Jens, Carolien’s boyfriend, the whole thought disappeared from my mind. His Dutch was smooth and definitely that of a native though he’d grown up in the States. It flowed easily from his palate and they seemed to be involved in a very intense conversation.

I sat next to him and he introduced me to Jens, who was obviously mixed race with his café au lait skin and the most gorgeous ice blue eyes I’d ever seen. He switched to English quite easily and the four of us had a great time.

We all agreed to meet up the next morning and they would take us to the countryside so after about an hour, we left The Grasshopper and walked to our apartment.

I wrapped my arms around Colin’s waist and clung to him as he slipped an arm around my shoulders. “Are you sure you’re okay? You had me worried there for a while.”

“I’m fine. I just drank too much and did too much marijuana but I’ll live,” I replied. He kissed my forehead and we continued our walk down to our apartment.

My hackles immediately went up as I saw a group of youths ahead. They looked North African or Middle Eastern, certainly not a unique sight in a country or city like Amsterdam. They were loud and rowdy and from a quick glance, I counted at least seven of them.

“Maybe we should do the American thing and cross the street,” I told Colin as he looked up to see the trouble heading our way.

“That is so racist, Deirdre. They’re probably just minding their own business. We leave them alone and we should be fine,” he responded in a good natured way.

“Listen, racist or not, I’m scared and that many youths scare me. You can’t defend both of us and we don’t know what the fuck they are up to,” I said in a cold voice.

Colin guided us toward the other side of the narrow cobblestone street but just as I expected, they were up to no good. They began shouting to us in Dutch and Colin shouted something back though the bravado in his voice was seriously lacking.

Before I could realize the brevity of the situation, there were seven of the youths in front of us and three or four of them behind us by the sound of voices overlapping.

Several 0f them approached Colin and began shouting at him while he pushed me out of the way. “Go get help,” he told me in English under his breath.

“No fucking way. I’m not leaving you here on your own.”

“Your little skank whore has a mouth on her,” one of them said in clear English. “If you were one of our women, we’d cut your tongue out and all have a go with you!”

Suddenly one approached Colin and smashed a glass bottle against the side of his head. He went down and I immediately grabbed the sharp edge of the bottle and hovered over him as I pointed the jagged edge of the bottle their way.

“If you don’t get the fuck out of here, I will use this!” I exclaimed in anger.

Several lights from apartments overhead flicked on and Dutch voices shouted out of the windows, causing the youth to take off in all directions. I threw the bottle to the side and tried to get a look at the cut on the side of Colin’s head but he held his hand there protectively.

A younger Dutch gentleman walked up and began to speak, “I’m a doctor. Do you think I can have a look at that cut, sir?”

Colin nodded and said something to the guy in Dutch. The doctor began ranting in Dutch and what ever he said wasn’t exactly all that great by the tone of his voice.

“I’m leaving this shit country. I finally managed to get a very nice employment package from a hospital in Alberta, Canada. My family and I are out of here by the end of the month. It’s a goddamn shame you can’t even walk home at night without being attacked.” He shined a pin light on the cut. “You’re going to need stitches but you’ll live. My wife and I are up just across the street in the apartment right there. I can do them if your girlfriend isn’t too squeamish.”

I smiled at the doctor. “I’m not. I promise.”

We followed the doctor back to his apartment. Boxes were stacked everywhere and his tall and equally blonde and blue-eyed wife welcomed us. They were both fair-haired and pale eyed, welcoming but a bit reserved until Colin continued to speak Dutch to them.

The doctor’s wife offered me water while Colin had the side of his head stitched up. It was right at the hairline so it turned out he didn’t have to undergo a haircut but he would have a nasty looking bruise there which was already starting to form.

Afterwards, we thanked our hosts and offered money they turned down as they considered it an insult. Colin walked out but I stayed behind. “Thank you for your generosity.” I handed them my mobile number. “If you’re ever in Seattle, please allow us to take you out to dinner.”

Doctor Rutte stared at me with cool pale blue eyes. “This attack—it’s really shaken you up. Are you sure you’re all right?”

I shook my head and began to sob. “My dad was murdered in a hit and run almost seven months ago and tonight just brought it all back. I was so worried I would lose Colin too…thank you for doing what you have done because you didn’t have to do anything and we both know it.”