A State Of Sin Amsterdam Occult Series Book Two Mark Hobson (romantic novels in english TXT) 📖

his guard by befriending him, in the way that other abducted people tried? He wasn’t stupid, yet he couldn’t keep his identity hidden forever, not if she were going to be living with him from now on.

His head was spinning as these confusing thoughts crashed around inside his brain, and then he watched as the girl rose from the bed and slowly came towards him, her footsteps faltering but determined.

Nina, oh Nina, he thought as she stopped before him, her face just inches from his own, their eyes locked together through the glass visor.

He saw her hands come up, felt them grip the sides of the leather hood, and then lift it clear. He blinked away tears as she smiled and said:

“Hello Tobias, I’m Nina.”

They sat and ate breakfast together. She passed him the toast, saying she would like him to have it, and so he nibbled at it. His eyes remained downcast throughout most of their strange little encounter, even though Nina tried to make eye contact, but on the one occasion when his blue eyes flickered up, she smiled and he gave the tiniest of nervous smiles back.

They only spoke a little. There was nothing really to say, under the bizarre circumstances they were in, but she did ask him if it were sunny out, to which he replied quietly:

“Yes, and very cold.”

“Is it frosty?” she asked. “Are the canals frozen over?”

“Yes. A beautiful winter’s day.”

“Oh, I like the winter. I like to go skating on the canals. I would love to see them.” But she realized that was a stupid request, and he didn’t reply.

They ate some more in silence, and Nina appraised him, deep in thought.

He had a friendly face. His cheeks were very red, and his nose covered in burst blood vessels, and she guessed he must spend a lot of time outdoors perhaps for his job. He had a pleasant smile and tiny white teeth, and a greying goatee beard which was trimmed neatly, and his blond hair was just showing the first signs of thinness on the crown. His eyes were of the clearest blue, and sparkled even more without the glass visor, with smile lines at their edges. But they shifted around nervously, skittering across the table surface or off to the side, and she sensed that something saddened him enormously.

Nina finished eating and then drank the rest of the fruit juice, then asked him in all innocence: “Is your name really Tobias?”

But the question triggered something in him, for she saw his body suddenly go tense, and she held her breath and felt something flutter in her chest.

He stood up quickly, causing his chair to scrape back over the floor. Without saying a word or looking at her, the man quickly gathered up the plates and the leather hood and then headed for the stairs in a hurry. Reaching the top he paused briefly to look back over his shoulder, and she saw fresh tears and a pained expression, before he slipped through the door and locked it once more.

Confused and now scared again, Nina slumped in her seat.

Upstairs, a darkness descended upon Tobias, a familiar feeling of claustrophobia and fury that he’d suffered from throughout most of his life. Hatred gripped him and in seconds he was in a whirling and spitting and violent turmoil, tearing around the house and screaming himself hoarse, smashing the furniture and punching at the walls with his thick-gloved hands.

The anger was directed at himself, at the weak fool he was. He was a spineless and pathetic excuse for a man, and what made it worse was he could not vent his fury on anybody, because he’d foolishly already killed the parents, and Nina, his beautiful Nina, was so precious and perfect. So he spun and shouted and lashed out at the very air, until eventually he collapsed onto the floor from sheer exhaustion.

Curling himself up into a tight ball he cried and rocked backwards and forwards.

Later, a thought popped into his head.

Snivelling and wiping his nose, it occurred to Tobias that actually, there was somebody he could punish for this whole mess.

Chapter 8

The Clinic

The Vrije Geer Optiek Klineik in Osdorp had only been open for about two years, but already the new state-of-the-art facility had gained a reputation for being one of the best eye surgery centres in The Netherlands.

It had cost 25 million euros to build. Inside, the equipment was the best in the world, from the brand new LEN-XR Laser System and three Refractive Diagnostic Points, a 3D Visualization System and the Galaxy Wavelight Suite. The consultation rooms and theatres and reception area were high-end conceptual designs, and the aftercare wards were as plush as anything found at a 5-star hotel. Even the car park outside had been designed by one of the world’s leading architects, aimed at creating a relaxing and calm environment before visitors or patients even entered through the sliding doors.

Sitting in the car’s passenger seat as they crawled through the morning traffic, Pieter scrolled through the clinic’s website on an iPad, looking at the photos and reading, occasionally tutting to himself and shaking his head, or sighing heavily and drawing the odd glance from Kaatje.

“This must cost a bomb,” he mumbled.

“Too posh for us, Boss?”

“Yep. Only for the rich and famous, or those with very good medical insurance.”

He’d picked Kaatje Groot up from her home at a little before eight. Climbing out of his car, he’d pressed the bell for her apartment, and leaned against the car’s door while he waited for her to come down from the third floor. A few minutes later she’d appeared, dressed in her civvies, looking all flustered and out of breath, and he’d dangled the car keys in front of her, smiling.

“Want to drive?”

Smiling back, Kaatje had grabbed the keys, and they got in.

“So, does this make me your official driver now?” she’d asked.

“I guess so.”

Osdorp was a suburb on the outskirts of Amsterdam, almost