Wicked Games: Book Two of The Psychopath Series

Chapter 23

Isabeth stopped in the doorway of Clayton's office. Alex was at Emerald picking them up some burgers and fries to take back to her brownstone in town where they were going to try to unwind on the couch and watch some ESPN.

It wasn't the most romantic night but it was practical, cozy, and what she wanted. She had plenty of boyfriends—although she wouldn't tell Alex that—all of which made big romantic gestures. She had sixty-eight roses, one for every day we dated; a thirty carat tennis bracelet because you're the twinkle in my eye and renting out Neiman's for the night, you can buy anything you want because you're priceless boyfriends. She didn't want money or lavish gifts. Newsflash: She Had Her Own Money!

Isabeth wanted the little things; watching the sunset with their finger intertwined under a blanket at the beach and talking until it rose back up. She didn't want the extravagant fodder that was meant to be bragged about to her girlfriends. She wanted the things that invoked the emotions memories were made from. Alex did that but he wasn't her only boyfriend who did. There was someone else, someone before Alex. The one that made her aware of the things she wanted a man to give her.

The desk light dimly shone as Isabeth watched Clayton stick pictures on a clear plastic board, trying to discover who caused Fiona's untimely death. Tyrese was playing on his iPod docked in a console on top of a tan file cabinet. His office looked almost put together. A few boxes were gathered in the corner. A maple bookshelf was erected with criminal justice and law books and some John Grisham novels shelved on it. A picture of his parents, sat in the middle of the top shelf.

"I gotta turn that up." Clayton said to himself as Sweet Lady came on. He hesitated planting eyes on her. "What are you doing here?"

Isabeth prudently walked in. "I wanted to talk to you before the manhunt starts."

"Manhunt." He tsked. "You came here to talk about Alex."

"Why else would I be here?" She knew why he thought she was there.

"So, you're here questioning my integrity?" He picked up another picture from the desk.

"No." Isabeth bounced on her heels. "Never."

"Granted, it's why I'm in this mess." Clayton slapped a picture against the board with tape. "He's not good enough for you."

Isabeth huffed. She didn't need this speech again. Her Aunt Jade had filled that quota. "That's not what I came here to talk about." She folded her arms feeling uncomfortable. She hadn't thought about their past for a long time.

"Well, that's what I want to talk about."

"Let's not." Isabeth looked behind her making sure no one was approaching.

"Let's do!" He raised his voice forgetting the door was still open.

"You want to go there?" Isabeth's arms dropped to her sides. "Then, lets go there. You broke up with me because I was sixteen. This situation is all your fault."

"No! This situation is your fault." He forged closer to her. "You lied about your age. You lied saying you were twenty-one. And here I thought I was the youngest one in the relationship."

"Relationship?" Isabeth's eyebrows jumped up.

"Yes. Re-lat-ion-ship." He enunciated every syllable.

"It was a week....in Germany." She breathed out.

Clayton's finger dug into his chest just above his heart, "It was the seven greatest days of my life."

"Is that why you came here?" Isabeth twisted her mouth, chewing on the inside of her cheek. "Took this case...cause you told me...you never wanted to see be again."

" I was angry...furious at you for lying." He rubbed at his jaw. "I could never in a billion years...not want to see you."

Isabeth untucked her hair covering up the earring, "I'm sorry." She apologized. "If I could go back...back to Germany, back to that time, I wouldn't have lied."

"No! Don't! Then I wouldn't have known you." Clayton remembered seeing her standing on the curb in those breathtaking white shorts. "I wouldn't have talked to you for hours after getting lost in The Tiergarten." She laughed not noticing him moving closer to her. "I wouldn't have held your hand at The Reichstag." He took her hand, felt the warmth of her palm against his palm. He pulled her into him, tasted her sweet breath. "And I wouldn't have kissed you under the Brandenburg Gate"

Clayton moved his perched lips to hers. Isabeth's heart raced. She didn't know what to do, give in and let him kiss her. She knew her and Clayton weren't just a summer fling, what she spent the rest of the summer trying to convince herself they where. She spent everyday with him that week even missing the first half of Brittany's runway show for Karl Lagerfeld.

Isabeth's blood rushed like white water rapids to her head anticipating his kiss, remembering how good he was at it. He rested his hand on the nape of her back and the rim of her butt. Her soul cried through all the noise her brain was sputtering.

Clayton pulled her closer to him. No space was between them. She put a delicate hand to his sturdy chest. His heart beat like a bass drum under her palm while she breathed in the passion hanging in his eyes. She read his soul, that mirrored hers and then she remembered. He was her first love.

Isabeth turned her head to the side pursing her lips denying him what he desired all these years. "Alex is waiting." She exhaled refusing her body of what it wanted. It wanted Clayton to kiss her...want her...touch her.

Clayton dropped his hands. She backed up.

"As...am I." He said leaning against the desk.

A robust knock on the door interrupted Clayton and Isabeth's intense staring gaze at each other. She jumped frantically jerking around.

"They sent me back." The man in a Versace copper suit, standing in the doorway informed. "I'm Gregory Nuñez."

"I should be going," Isabeth said holding her vibrating phone. "Alex is calling." She scurried out the office answering the phone. "Hello."

So, Team Clayton or Team Alex? Inquiring minds want to know.