- Black Gold 2 - Double Black (4 page)

Goldie frowned like he was working something out. “Cole, you came out to your father? When did your father leave?”

“I guess I was twelve when he left. He and my mom weren’t working out.” Cole frowned at the recollection. He reached for Goldie’s hand, like holding on to another human being would make it easier to feel those things again.

“Anyway, when the cancer got bad, I went to live with him while she was in the hospital. That was like two years ago, I guess.” Cole hesitated to make sure Goldie was still interested.

Seeing Goldie’s brows furrow, Cole went on. “It was stupid, but I got drunk and tried to kiss this guy one night. I thought he liked me. The next day the truck had
Fag
spray-painted on the windshield. Dad didn’t kick me out or anything. He still tried to love me.”

That night, even Kyle had seemed angry with him, though as far as he knew, Kyle didn’t know that guy, let alone like him. But the man Cole had thought was his father had swooped in and taken care of the situation.

“Then Mom told us who my father was, and Dad didn’t want to see me anymore. It was like she’d given him the excuse he needed not to be related to a faggot.”

Cole’s warm, fuzzy memories of his dad’s love were ruined by the fact that it had all been an act, one he dropped at the first excuse. A rough-edged sob lodged in Cole’s throat until he coughed and forced it out. His shoulders shook. The enormity of all he’d lost crushed him.

Goldie wrapped Cole in his arms and kissed his cheek. “I don’t know how anyone could be so cruel to such a good kid. Where have you been living since then?”
“I was staying with my mom’s friend, Lucy, but she can’t afford to keep me indefinitely. I was gonna go off to school, but then there wasn’t any money left, and…” Cole’s face warped with misery and he clung to Goldie, barely aware he was doing it. “When you try to get grants or loans or whatever, if your legal parent makes too much or won’t sign or whatever, you’re screwed. It’s so unfair.”

Cole rubbed his face on Goldie’s chest and gave him a pleading look, hoping he’d understand. “I sold my truck to get money for this trip and pay Lucy back. I didn’t think further than that. I just thought that if there’s any justice in the world, then that asshole will own up to what he did, and he’ll fix this. You have to make him fix it, Goldie. You’re a good person.”

“Oh, honey.” Goldie smoothed Cole’s hair back tenderly. “If you need money for school, that’s not a problem, no matter what, okay?”
Goldie’s voice broke and his head jerked up in alarm. “Jett!”

Chapter Two

Jett stared at the scene in front of him with narrowed eyes and his pierced bottom lip caught in his teeth. His tongue batted the captive bead as he tried to make sense of the tableau before him. Finally he gave up.

“What the hell is this shit, Billy?”

Jett blinked and rubbed his nape with one hand, wondering if he was still high. He leaned against the door frame, leather-clad hip smacking into the lacquered wood all that kept him from losing his balance. He started to ask another question when a hellacious sonic blast rushed at him.

“Where have you been, you asshole? It’s like nine o’clock. We’ve been waiting for hours, and you haven’t even called! I saw you on TV. What were you doing?”

At first Jett thought it was Billy, but Billy never yelled at him. Time stuttered like stop-motion photography as the kid Billy had been cuddling rushed Jett with the focus of a drug dog. He looked so much like him that Jett wondered if it was a manifestation of his id on the loose.

“Get the fuck out of my face!”

In defiance of Jett’s will, the kid’s hand connected with Jett’s chest and sent him stumbling. Jett shoved back with both hands. Blind instinct took over, the legacy of nights spent in crowded clubs and fighting his way out of mosh pits even security was scared to enter. “Who the fuck do you think you are?”

Jett was vaguely aware of Billy’s voice trying to break through, but the blood pounding in his ears was like a primal drum cadence. Some screaming vocals layered over and it would sound perfect. The intensity of his anger swept him up in its savage beauty.
Then what this violent brat was yelling entered his consciousness.

“I’m your son, you goddamn loser!”

The world snapped into sudden focus, then spun like chunks of fruit in Goldie’s smoothie-maker. Jett stared into the furious face inches from his own—the only thing he could make out clearly—exhaled with a slow whistle, and looked over the boy’s shoulder in what he imagined was Billy’s general direction.

“Get me a drink, baby.”

Maybe if he had a drink, things would make sense. “A drink? You already smell like a hobo!” The kid’s shriek made Jett’s ears ring despite years of standing too close to amps. “What have you been doing? Are you high?”

Good question.

The kid shoved Jett again in his eagerness to grab the lapel of Jett’s leather jacket. The kid tried to sniff it, and Jett swatted him away.
“Get the fuck off me, will you? Jesus. And stop shouting. You’re giving me a headache.” Confused, Jett sought Billy, trying to see around the persistent annoyance that kept popping up in front of his face like a demented Whac-A-Mole.
Billy’s form resolved just as his arms appeared around the kid’s waist. “Sit down. We’re going to talk about this as calmly as we can, right?”
Before the kid could protest, Billy moved him bodily to a chair, then gave Jett a meaningful look before he turned to the liquor cabinet. “Jett, I think you’re going to want to be seated when we talk about this.”
Billy poured two glasses of Scotch and handed one to Jett, who hadn’t moved from his spot.
“Please sit, baby.” Billy touched the side of Jett’s face lovingly. “I need somewhere to sit too, and your lap is always the best seat in the house.”

That was more like it.
Jett smiled and snaked an arm around Billy’s waist. He gave him a soft kiss, then hooked a booted foot behind a chair leg and pulled the seat over so he could drop into it. He dragged Billy into his lap, downed the Scotch in two gulps, and set the glass on the table with a
clunk.

Only then did his gaze fix on the brat across the table.
As soon as their eyes met, the kid said, “Ugh, what do they see in you?” Jett shrugged. “Beats me.”

He couldn’t stay annoyed, not with a lapful of Goldie. Jett rested his head on his boyfriend’s chest as he looked up at him. His sweet, naive man, so beautiful and generous, wanting to save everyone.

Billy looked very tired and a little worried. “This is Cole. He says his mother knew you. She told him that you were his father.”

Pale, cool fingers pressed against Jett’s lips before he could protest. “She passed on, Jett. After a long battle with cancer, okay? So keep that in mind before you say anything.”

Jett frowned. No doubt that was why Billy had been cuddled up to the kid earlier. In spite of Billy’s general peacekeeping stance with Jett, he didn’t seem to mind confronting others on their bullshit. If he believed this kid had lost his mother, he had to have his reasons.

What those were, Jett had a hard time imagining. Then again, he was kind of fucked up.
Jett decided to roll with it.
He looked over at the kid. “Sorry to hear about your mom, bucko. Um. Where you from?”
The boy held Jett’s gaze, eyes narrowed, breath uneven as if bracing for battle. Usually the supposed illegitimate kids Jett met looked eager to meet him, not like he was a boil they wanted to lance.
“Kansas. I’m from Kansas, same as my mom, same as you. She met you while you were still in college.” Cole’s lip curled in what looked to Jett like a pretty good imitation of Elvis.
Jett almost laughed, but that might be tactless.

Cole went on. “She said she never told you, but I think she knew you wouldn’t care.”
Jett rolled his eyes. Of course he wouldn’t care, because he wasn’t anyone’s father. It didn’t make him an asshole.
“Do you have some kind of proof? I mean, aside from the potential family resemblance of being tall, dark, and rude.” Jett started to ask the mom’s name but stopped because what kind of bell could it possibly ring? Then again, if the woman was from his college, he might remember her. “What was her name?”

The boy rose and pulled an old photograph from his wallet. He slid it across the table toward Jett and looked at him expectantly.
Jett took it with his free hand as the other clutched tighter at Billy’s hip. His breath caught as he examined the photo.
“That’s L…” He hesitated, embarrassed he might not remember correctly; so many things were jumbled in his memory now. “Linda? Linda Adams.”
Eyes widening, he looked at Billy, then at Cole. Comprehension dawned, and he inhaled sharply.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, kid. Your ma was a…” Jett floundered as he tried to think of some way to describe Linda to her son that wouldn’t sound cheap. “She was a real encouragement to me. I’m very sorry to hear she’s gone.”

Cole looked startled. “You remember her?”

 

Jett
felt
startled, but he nodded, at an uncharacteristic loss for words.

Cole snatched the photo before Jett was ready to relinquish it. He ached a little at its loss. For a moment, the good times when the band was starting out—before it all got so fucking complicated—had seemed so close.

Having his hair toyed with by Billy was some consolation. He whispered into Jett’s ear, “He’s so much like you. I could hardly believe it when I saw him on the security monitor.”

At Jett’s questioning look, Billy smiled. “He was out front, shouting at the gates. Reminds me of someone I know. I was curious because he came here and didn’t go to a lawyer or the tabloids. He seems like a good kid.”

Jett started to reply when Cole broke in, sounding indignant, as if Billy hadn’t just eloquently pleaded his case.
“So what the fuck are you gonna do about it, asshole? Step up and be a man already! I’m fucking eighteen, and you have a lot to fucking answer for.”
The kid’s voice grated on Jett’s last nerve. “I don’t gotta answer for anything, junior. I didn’t fucking know about you, probably because you’re not my fucking kid!”

Cole rose from his seat like he was going to start something.

 

Jett stood so abruptly, he almost knocked Billy to the floor. Horrified, he clung to Billy until he regained his footing. “Are you okay, Goldilocks?”

A breath later, Cole was at Billy’s other side, glaring at Jett and trying to draw Billy away. “He forgot about you while you were
sitting in his lap
. How can you be with this asshole?”

Jett puzzled at the question, then realized this kid was presuming to ask his Billy why he was with him, like the kid had any right. Jett shuffled Billy behind him to stand between him and this little twat. He took a step forward until they were toe to toe.

Despite their proximity, Jett felt the need to bellow. “Get the fuck out of my goddamn house, you fucking instigator! You have your shit-sucking lawyer call mine, and maybe we’ll fucking talk.”
Apparently dazed by the volume and Jett’s sudden aggression, Cole staggered.

Billy pointed a finger at the kid and barked a command. “Stay where you are. Jett and I need to chat for a moment.”
The kid’s eyes widened, but he did as he was told. Billy was a nice boy, but when he gave orders, that was the end of the story. It was gratifying to see the kid slink to his chair and sit. Even more pleasing was that he shut the fuck up.
A thrill built low in Jett’s belly when Billy took charge. He couldn’t take credit for Billy’s self-confidence, but he did feel goddamn proud that he’d seen and nurtured those leadership qualities when no one else did.

When Billy took Jett’s hand and led him to the living area, Jett shot the kid a triumphant look over his shoulder and trailed after his boyfriend like a happy, malicious puppy.

Once they were alone, Billy cupped Jett’s face and gazed into his eyes. “He doesn’t have anywhere else to go. His father just threw him out because his mother—on her deathbed, I think—said that you were his biological father, okay? He’s only eighteen. His mother named him Cole. Kind of cute, isn’t it?”

“Oh for fuck’s sake.” Jett sighed, then rolled his eyes. The soap-opera-style name reminded him of his ex-band’s attempt at cleverness after he’d left to be with Goldie. “Cole Black? Really? Tourniquet should have asked her advice when he named Betrayed by Fame. That would have been a winning combo.”

Jett’s blood ran hot, and he wanted to slam someone’s face with his fist, but he couldn’t hit that poor kid. If what he’d said was true, well…
It probably wasn’t.

Jett remembered Linda, and he doubted she’d have kept it secret from him that she was pregnant. He wouldn’t have known what to do with a baby. At the time he was a baby himself, but he would have cared.

Now she was dead. She couldn’t have been much more than forty.

He pushed that thought away and focused on Billy, staring at him with such concern. Jett resigned himself to Billy’s will.
“So what, then? We can rent him a room. He can stay at some motel. We’ll call a cab to take him away. Tomorrow we’ll talk to the lawyer and see what the next step is.”

Billy frowned, an expression that Jett couldn’t bear. “We could do that, but I’d rather he stay here. Can you say with one hundred percent certainty that he’s not your son? Is there even a remote possibility that Linda could have gotten pregnant? Because if there is, if he is yours, do you want to start that relationship with you renting a room and sending him there by cab? He’s already lost his mother and his father. I can’t stomach sending him off with strangers.”

He leaned in and kissed Jett with sensual slowness, the most compelling argument he’d made thus far. “If he’s not, well, then we showed some kindness to a kid who needed some.”

As much as Jett wanted to resist on principle, he could never refuse Billy. Within moments, he was past wanting anything but him. He slid his hands under Billy’s shirt, teasing the soft, bare skin. He found the tight buds of Billy’s nipples and pinched.

Just that made Jett hard.

He gazed into those mesmerizing golden eyes. “Put him up in a guest room all fucking ready then, and let’s go to bed.”
“Who?” Billy’s expression mingled bliss and confusion. Then he shook his head as if to clear his thoughts. “Right. Okay. Yes.”
Billy slipped away to say something to Cole and then escorted Jett up the stairs and into their room. He pushed Jett onto the bed and pounced.