- Black Gold 2 - Double Black (2 page)

Goldie didn’t deserve that. Cole reached out hesitantly to touch his arm in apology. He was probably as taken in by Jett as Cole’s mom had been. “Look, I’m sorry to be nasty about this, but it’s a very sensitive subject for me. I took a Greyhound from Kansas to be here.”

The understated reaction of a raised brow from Goldie made Cole wonder if Goldie was snapped at a lot. “You do look remarkably like him, but I’m pretty sure that the Greyhound from Kansas isn’t going to stand up in a court of law. You have to understand, Cole, there are a lot of people who claim to be Jett’s children, but he’s been very careful.”

Cole had googled how often this situation came up. He’d figured he would have plenty of siblings, but most of those cases were parents of clueless infants who bore only passing resemblance to Jett Black.

Poring through interviews to see if Jett had mentioned Cole’s mother proved fruitless. He never had. What he had done was mention his early vasectomy.
Though he’d never given the date and time of the surgery, Cole was pretty sure it wasn’t performed on teenagers.

“I’m from before he wised up. My mom’s from the town where that asshole went to college. She met him before he was even old enough to get into the bars he was playing. She told me about it before she died. It’s why my dad dumped me.”

He stared Goldie in the eye, bluffing bravado. “If that jackass needs a DNA test, I’ll do it, but it’s not like he ever responded to me before now so I could make that happen.”

Goldie set aside the bowl and scooted closer. He raised a hand like he was going to pat his arm but withdrew it like he wasn’t sure he should. “I’m very sorry about your mother. And your father.” He took a deep breath. “I don’t think you had contact information for Jett. You probably just had the number to his publicist. That’s usually what’s available to the public. How old are you?”

“Eighteen.” Cole gave Goldie a look that defied pity. “My mom was older than him. She’d go to the bar to hear him. I guess she was having a hard time getting pregnant and thought she’d try with someone besides my dad.”

The corner of Cole’s mouth twitched as he reached into his pocket for an old photograph. His mom sat at the greasy counter of a dive with a very young Jethro Black. His arm was around her shoulders, and she wore a wild, strange smile Cole had never seen in person.

He passed the photo to Goldie. “It was her idea to name me Cole. I guess she thought that was enough thanks for borrowing his genes. She didn’t think I’d look so much like him. Once my dad figured it out, he didn’t want to say my name anymore.”

Goldie held the photo beside Cole’s face, eyes narrowed.
“I thought your eyes were his, but they’re your mother’s, maybe.” Goldie blushed and handed the photo back to Cole. “Sorry. I mean, I’m sure Jett would want more proof than that. Or maybe not. I don’t really know much about what his life was back then.”

A handsome man with dark skin, presumably Hasani, carried in a tray of lemonade and finger sandwiches. He set it on the table. His deep brown eyes widened when he saw Cole.

“I wanna know what he was thinking! I want to know why he thought it was okay to fuck someone else’s wife, to just…” Cole rose and moved to the window. Staring at the horizon distanced him from his idol and the reality of spilling these dirty secrets.

“Jett Black ruined my life. He wasn’t gonna be my dad, but he put me on this planet, and now my real dad doesn’t want me.”
Cole shrugged off the welter of emotions that knotted his shoulders. He took a deep, slow breath, let it out, and turned toward Goldie. “It’s not your fault. This has nothing to do with you. I shouldn’t even be alive. But I’m here, and I’ve got no one, and it’s Jethro Black’s fucking fault.
“I know you love him or whatever. I’ve seen
TMZ
. But the guy’s an asshole. You could do so much better.”

The irony was, Cole had been excited when Goldie came out and his boyfriend looked like an older version of him. Kyle had already been listening to Jett’s music then, though to Cole it sounded like a bunch of angry noise. He wondered if Kyle had jerked off thinking about his dad like Cole had over Goldie.

Gross.
Before Cole’s mind could go down that twisted road, Goldie moved closer, a welcome distraction. Goldie’s voice was a soft purr. “For all I know, what you say is true. But I can also tell you, and this is for real: there is none better than Jethro Black. He’s a good man. In that picture, he was a very
young
man. Maybe he didn’t know she was married. Maybe he knew and was too young to understand.”
Goldie patted Cole’s back with fingers as light as a whisper. “I can’t imagine how hard it is that you lost your mother and your father treats you that way, but Cole,
I’m
glad you’re alive, okay? No matter what happens with Jett or tests or whatever, I care, okay?”
“What? Why?” Cole blinked. The spell Goldie cast had dissolved when he started to sound like an after-school special. Those gold eyes looked earnest, but it could be an act.

Lull the Kansas boy with pretty words and maybe Jett could slip the noose. No way was Cole falling for that. “Why the shit should you care? Let’s be honest. I’m either your boyfriend’s

illegitimate son who’s gonna try to sue him for a fuckzillion dollars, or I’m lying to your face about being your boyfriend’s illegitimate son who’s gonna try to sue him for a fuckzillion dollars. Why be nice to me? Is this some kind of game?”

Goldie backed off. Much to Cole’s shame, he actually looked hurt. “No. You just sounded so sad. And if you
are
his son, then we’d be…” His eyes glimmered when he gazed out the window, but the glassiness disappeared with a blink. “You could’ve gone to TMZ, but you didn’t. You’re either sincere or troubled. Either way, there’s nothing to gain by being rude or dismissive.”

“Look, I don’t want to disrupt your life. I just want to talk to him. If you don’t know where he is or when he’ll be back, let me give you my number so you can have him call me. I’ll just…” Cole’s voice faltered.

He hadn’t thought past showing up at Jethro Black’s door and demanding justice. At this point, he didn’t even know what justice would be. He just wanted to shout at his bio dad, but now he was worried about how Goldie might feel.

Then he remembered this was his asshole father’s boyfriend and rallied, unwilling to look weak or lost in front of him, no matter how kind Goldie was. “I’ll be waiting to hear from him. If he doesn’t call, I’ll be back.”

“All right. I’ll take your number.” Goldie’s tone sounded measured, and, though he looked casual, one corner of his lips turned up like he was amused. “Or if you let me know where you’re staying, we could arrange a visit. I’m sure he’ll want to see that photograph.”

“Oh, I’ve got a friend who lives, uh, downtown.” Cole winced at the lie. It didn’t sound remotely convincing. He didn’t have a credit card, and from his understanding, he’d need one to rent hotel rooms or cars.

He rattled off his cell number, hoping Goldie would drop the subject and leave the remnants of his dignity intact. “Look, it doesn’t matter. It’s a cell phone. I’ll answer. I’ll show up. Bam. Done.”

Goldie‘s tone remained neutral. “We can do that. Or, you know, he always comes home at night. You could hang around. I was just going to work out before I heard there was some maniac at the front gate.” Those pillowy lips twitched. “We have a nice home theater system. You can watch movies unless you and
your friend
have plans today.”

Goldie was going to let him stay. In fact, his expression appeared to brook no argument.
Did Goldie like him? And if so, was it because of Cole, or because he looked like a younger version of Jett? Would someone like Goldie ever find him cool?

“You’d let me do that?” Whatever else Cole thought of the situation, staying here was his best bet. “Okay. So, TV. I like TV.”
“Yeah, unless you have somewhere else to be. I’m probably going to swim after the workout.” Goldie pointed at a lap pool just beyond the porch. Then he turned his attention back to Cole. “There’s cable, movies on demand, anything you want. You’ve met Grace. She’s security, but if you need a cab or anything, she can help you. Hasani is the chef if you get hungry. I’ll be down the hall in the workout room. I’ll leave the door open so you know which.”
Goldie flashed that smirk again. “I don’t know when Jett will be home or what shape he’ll be in when he gets here, so you may need to call your
friend
and warn them you’ll be late.”
Goldie took a large remote from a drawer in the coffee table. When he pressed a button, a portion of the wall drew back to reveal a flat-screen television. As Goldie demonstrated for Cole how to change channels, they landed on a gossip news show displaying a static picture of Jett sitting with a group of people. A young woman appeared to be whispering something into Jett’s ear that he looked pleased to hear.
Goldie’s jaw set. He snapped the television off and handed Cole the remote. “Anyway, that’s how it works.”
It was obvious the image on the screen had bothered Goldie. On impulse, Cole hugged him, then stepped away. He knew he should drop the subject, but he couldn’t. He gestured toward the screen. “So you don’t know what shape he’ll be in when he gets here, huh?”

Goldie winced. “Those shows… You can’t judge Jett based on that. And there’s probably a really good reason why they showed a freeze-frame rather than what happened in context. That’s what those shows do. You have no idea how many actresses and models the media connected me with based on the fact that I stood next to them at some event. Some of them I didn’t even remember talking to. She could’ve been telling him she had some good weed.”

“What a great role model.” Cole punched the power button and turned up the volume to hear the reporter explaining the woman with Jett was from a band the label was trying to sign. After a few seconds, he muted the volume.

Cole eyed Goldie. The fact someone so awesome would ignore the reality of who and what Jett Black was brought something savage out of Cole. “So that woman’s not really random, then. Probably they’ll be spending a lot of time together in the studio, huh? And you’re cool with that? If I was your boyfriend, I’d be here all day every day just to make sure nobody talked their way into the house and tried to put the moves on you.”

It wasn’t until Cole saw the look on Goldie’s face that he realized how presumptuous he sounded. His ears burned, but he didn’t look away.
Goldie’s pallor remained, but his anguished expression morphed into a confident mask—one Cole had seen on album covers and billboards. “Well, I trust him. And I’m sure he trusts me. I don’t let everyone into the house. You just… You’re a lot more like him than you know.”
When Goldie looked away, his gaze rested on the screen. Despite the brave face he wore, Cole detected real anxiety in the defensive hunch of his shoulders. “Anyway, he spends time with a lot of people in a lot of studios. If I worried over each one, I’d go crazy.”
Cole considered all the shenanigans someone like Jett Black could get up to under Goldie’s avoidant nose. Things that went on under Cole’s father’s nose. Things that happened after Jett knocked up Cole’s mother and went on to do God knew what to God knew whom.
Special rules applied to Jett Black. Rules that didn’t apply to his progeny, no matter how similar they looked.

The sickening thing was that while Cole was grieving his mother and pining for the best friend who wanted any boy but Cole, his ”father” could put his dick in the most beautiful person in the world but didn’t bother to hang around.

So here Cole was, shoving Jett’s likely infidelity in Goldie’s face. Here he was, looking so much like Jett, and there they were, alone—kinda—in this place, and Goldie hadn’t so much as shot a lusty glance in Cole’s direction. Either Goldie was a fucking saint, or Cole was as pathetic as everyone seemed to think.

He glowered and flopped onto the couch.
“Whatever. He still doesn’t deserve you. You’re fucking Goldie.” He changed the channel; he couldn’t stand to look at his father any longer than he had to. Cole’s gaze landed on the lemonade meant for him. He snatched it and drained half the glass.

Suddenly Cole didn’t want to be on the couch, but he had nowhere else to go. A terrible feeling that his father had fucked Goldie on every piece of furniture in the room crept over him. It made his stomach churn. Nowhere was safe to sit.

Goldie was watching him. His clever mask had slipped, and his brows furrowed, somewhere between concern and irritation.
“You don’t need to babysit me. I won’t steal anything.”

“I’m not babysitting, and if I thought you needed to be watched, I wouldn’t have asked you to stay. I was going to point out that since you seem so agitated, you might enjoy the punching bag in the workout room.”

Without waiting for an answer, Goldie turned and stalked down the hallway, giving Cole a view of white leggings that left little to the imagination.
Watching Goldie work up a sweat would be worth the price of admission.

Cole scrambled to his feet and left the TV on and the remote on the couch as he trailed after Goldie. He caught up inside the gym and bumped their shoulders together. Affecting a cool he didn’t feel, Cole asked, “You’d let me work out with you?”

Goldie gave a warm, genuine smile. Much to Cole’s chagrin, it held amusement instead of lust. “Let this be lesson
two
on how the media doesn’t portray the life of the rock star very accurately. I normally spend all day alone like this. And you didn’t see any other hot eighteen-year-olds breaking in to see me.”

He kicked off his tall boots, put on a pair of running shoes, and hopped onto the stationary bike. “Actually there wasn’t even one for me today, because you were here to see Jett. So, really, the company will be my pleasure.”

Cole was so busy staring at Goldie’s ass that it took a few moments to process the fact Goldie had called him hot. Then his skin burned and his cock stiffened so fast he was sure he made a sound. He sidled behind another bike to put something between his crotch and Goldie’s line of sight.