- Black Gold 2 - Double Black (16 page)

Jett’s claiming and possessiveness were shocking enough. That he thought to call Sarah made Goldie wonder if he’d slid into an alternate dimension. Usually it was Goldie making those calls.

Then again, it was usually Jett in jail, often for assaulting paparazzi. If Goldie had to bet, it was a pap pressing charges against Cole, too. A free press was one thing. People taking pictures was annoying but par for the course. However, some photographers deliberately provoked celebrities in hopes of gaining an easy settlement.

Goldie returned to his conversation as Jett made arrangements on the other line. “Do they know who Cole is?”

 

Grace sighed. “They know who he looks like and that we went to a paternity clinic. I thought I shook the tail when we left.”

So there was extra surveillance since yesterday’s debacle. Maybe even police. Goldie blushed as he remembered how they’d spent the morning on the balcony.
Dear Lord.
Not that anyone could approach the house from that angle, but an enterprising photographer with a telescopic lens could have made a fortune.

Goldie refocused. “All right. Jett’s on the phone with Sarah. They’re making a plan. Did you check on Robbie? Is there anyone after him?”
Grace cleared her throat. “Robbie is a professional, sir. He knows the line.”

Of course he did. “Is there a warrant for me?”

 

“Not that I’m aware of, sir.”

Police might be queasy about pressing charges when he’d been recovering stolen property. Maybe. Or they were just waiting for Goldie to show up so they could spring the trap at the station. If that was the case, there was no sense in prolonging the inevitable.

“All right. Let the police know I’ll be showing up personally.” That should give them time to arrange security and finish paperwork.
Goldie fingered the stitches. He’d wear something comfortable. Normally he’d hide the injuries or play them off, but the court of public opinion would be on their side if he displayed the severity of the attack.

Jett was still talking to Sarah when Grace ended the call. His voice was quiet, reasonable, nothing like the usual Jett. “All right. I don’t like it, but I’ll do it. Yeah. Yeah, you’re right. Okay, Sarah.”

Suddenly Jett sounded energized. His back straightened, and his lips curved into a grim smile that could only mean trouble for whomever he was plotting against. “You’re a genius, Sarah. This is why I called you. You know how to manipulate a guy into thinking it’s all his idea.”

There was a pause. Jett laughed tersely. “See you.”

Jett unplugged the phone and looked at Goldie. The stoniness to his sharp features was a declaration of war. “Sarah’s getting legal on the horn. She’ll arrange a press conference when legal gives the green light, and I’m to spiff up and sit tight. She says you’ll know what to do and to follow your lead.”

Jett shook his head in amazement. “I love him. Cole, I mean. I didn’t think I would, but… I want him home safe. With us.”

 

“That’s all you need to be a good dad.”

Goldie hugged Jett and then walked to their bedroom with him. He figured Jett would put on a shirt and be ready to go, but he disappeared into the closet. Goldie paired a vest with an oversize oxford and a loose tie over tight jeans—his usual goingto-spring-Jett-out-of-jail outfit. He put on the barest of eyeliner and shaved his face smooth to reveal every bruise and scratch.

After Goldie finished, he squinted at the closet. Jett still hadn’t emerged. “Jethro?”

“This is serious, Billy.” Jett sounded harried in the same way he did backstage before a show. “Sarah said to take it seriously.”
There was an expensive-sounding rustle of fabric and a few soft
clinks
Goldie made out only because he was listening so intently, trying to figure out what Jett was up to. A minute later, a neatly ponytailed gentleman in a sleek black Lagerfeld suit emerged from the closet. Without the piercings and wild mane, it hardly looked like Jett.
Goldie seemed to remember that the designer had sent Jett the suit after meeting him at fashion week and that Jett had worn just the jacket to the last Grammys. Goldie couldn’t recall ever seeing his boyfriend in dress trousers and wingtips, and yet there he was.

“Okay.” Jett fiddled with the silk tie. “I’m not gonna shave. Sarah didn’t say I fucking had to, and I feel stupid enough in the damn suit, even if Karl is a rebellious old badass.”

As Jett looked up from the tie to meet Goldie’s eyes, he touched the tiny holes in his face and ears where his piercings had been. “I feel so fucking naked. This is not natural, Billy. Cole had better know I fucking love him after this, ’cause God willing, it ain’t happening again.”

“Well, he is your child.” Goldie couldn’t help but smile. Damn, Jett looked handsome dressed classically. “Your face looks kind of naked, but it should be more comfortable to sit on later.”

Goldie gave Jett a dirty smile and took his hand to walk him downstairs. “Grace called Robbie when she left, so he should be here by now. He can take us to the station.” He kissed Jett’s cheek again. “Cole will know you love him, Jett. He’s going to need that to get through this.”

* * * *

Cole sat on the floor of the clammy holding cell with his back to the cinder block wall. He was so angry he could barely control the urge to shout and so scared that he was having trouble breathing. He’d never felt such panic in his life.

Sure, Jett had seemed all chummy when he sent him off to find Grace, but who was to say Jett hadn’t set this up? He was a lot smarter than Cole had expected. Maybe he’d pretended not to hate Cole, but then arranged for him to be arrested. It wasn’t like Jett had any good reason to forgive him for almost jerking off in front of Goldie.

The jail was small, not one of the overcrowded inner city ones he’d seen on TV. He could hear the officer who’d processed him talking to people in the reception area down the hall. Cole resisted the urge to yell for help.

They’d told him he could make a phone call, but he didn’t know who to dial. He couldn’t afford a bail bondsman. Goldie’s number was unlisted. His dad in Kansas didn’t want anything to do with him. And what the shit would Kyle do about it?

Other than laugh. He’d be right to laugh. It was fucking funny.
Of course, he’d also have to explain to his best friend where he’d gone. Their last conversation hadn’t ended well, at least from Cole’s perspective. Kyle was packing and looking forward to all the hot guys he’d meet at college. He was even considering joining a fraternity. A frat of all fucking things. He said there were gay ones now. Had there ever been another kind?
Just the thought of all of those Abercrombie & Fitch motherfuckers getting with his Kyle made him unreasonably angry, so he shut out the thought. Who cared about fucking Kyle in Kansas when he had the potential of Goldie?
Except Goldie was more likely to hire a babysitter for him than blow him. Maybe after this stunt, if he could expose Jett for the big fucking fake who rigged this whole situation, Goldie would see what a scoundrel he was.
Then it would be Cole with Goldie, and Kyle could suck it. Or not suck it. He could wish he’d sucked it when he had the chance.
The guy in the cell across the way seemed about Cole’s age, maybe a little older. He kept staring at him like he knew him. Cole wondered if it was because he looked like Jett or because he’d seen Cole on the news. As much as Cole hated the shitty little cell, he was glad he had it to himself.

For now.
God knew what might happen when he didn’t have bail money and they kept him for the next few months and he got transferred to county and… With thoughts of Beecher and Adebisi from the HBO prison show in his mind, Cole wailed at the ceiling, then banged his head against the cinder blocks. “Oh my God, this is gonna end up just like
Oz
.”

They’d told Cole during booking that he should expect to spend the night in jail. It was cold and lonely and he thought he’d said too much to the arresting officer. They’d asked him all kinds of confusing questions, and he’d gotten angry and mouthed off. The next thing he knew, the officer was taking notes and filling out forms.

They’d probably added ten charges to his file. Cole would be sent to the state pen, and then he’d end up someone’s prison bitch, start collecting cigarettes as currency, and work his way up in some kind of prison gang. In Cole’s imagination, he was a grizzled thirty-year-old with teardrop tattoos, a prison daddy called Crusher, and a parole hearing in the year 2113.

At least he wouldn’t be a virgin anymore.

The sound of the cell door opening jarred him from his unfantasy. He looked up to see the booking officer staring at him in amusement.
Cole scrambled to his feet and glared. “What’s so fucking funny?” “Counsel’s here to see you.”

“Oh.” Cole started to protest that he hadn’t called a lawyer but decided to shut up and see where this went. As he held out his hands for the cuffs, he realized there was a dull roar coming from the direction of the reception area. As he listened closer, he realized he could make out the sound of people chanting Goldie’s name.

“Did Goldie come to save me?” Cole was suddenly filled with hope that he might not lose his virginity to a convict. Probably not to Goldie, but definitely to someone who was not currently a guest of the California Department of Corrections.

Though one of the LAPD officers milling around would serve just fine.

“I shouldn’t comment.” The officer laughed as he steered Cole toward an interrogation room. Well, it was a room with a table and chairs. According to cop dramas, it was an interrogation room. It looked more like a study nook from high school, but that wasn’t very dramatic.

What was dramatic was the appearance of the severe, dark woman sitting at the table waiting for Cole.

She rose to greet him, though he couldn’t shake hands. She resumed her seat as he did and dismissed the officer with a casual wave like she did this all the time. “Cole Adams, my name is Carol Larson. I have been engaged on your behalf by Jethro Black. He has signed the appropriate paperwork and will be providing financially for your legal defense. Please affirm for me verbally that you understand and accept this arrangement.”

Cole stared in disbelief. “My father called you?”

 

Either Jett was playing a serious long game, or this was all news to him. Now that Cole considered it, Jett didn’t seem that wily.

Carol nodded and gave him an inscrutable look. “He is very concerned that you have the best possible representation. I have served with great success as his counsel on several occasions in the past when he was charged with assault against members of the paparazzi. You are welcome at any point to dismiss me as counsel and seek another attorney or even represent yourself. However, as cost is not an object in this case, I highly recommend you verbally affirm your acceptance of my services as your legal counsel.”

“I accept.” Cole felt lost already. By the time she finished talking ten minutes later, his head was swimming.
“All right, Cole. I’ll give the judge a call. I have a feeling you’ll be home very soon.” Carol rose and gave him a smile, the first sign of warmth she’d shown. “I advised Jett that it would be wiser on his part to wait until the paternity results were back before taking up your part in this, but he was very adamant about defending you. Having spoken with you, I can see the resemblance. Mind you, a resemblance is not legally binding in this century, but I don’t think he’s quite as crazy as I did an hour ago. I’ll be in touch.”

Carol knocked at the door, and an officer came in to shuffle Cole back to his cell. As he emerged from the room, he heard a shout and turned his face toward the reception area to see a subdued-looking Goldie standing next to a suited man it took him a moment to recognize as Jett. Jett raised a fist at Cole as if in solidarity and gave him a dazzling smile.

He actually looked proud.
Even if Jett wasn’t sure Cole was his, he was not only paying for representation, he had shown up personally. In spite of his image, he’d stripped down his face, dressed in a respectable suit, and combed back his hair, all on Cole’s behalf. As great as the man who raised him had been until recently, Cole couldn’t imagine him putting it all on the line like that.

In truth, Cole had no idea what he had wanted when he made his trek to California, at least not beyond getting money for college. But he’d found so much more here. Goldie liked him. That was great. He was Cole’s idol and all and very handsome. But as he looked at Jett, really
looked
at him without all the piercings, he could see the resemblance between them and even feel smug that he had that striking bone structure.

Cole wanted somewhere to belong, somewhere that he was accepted. He’d been nothing but rude to Jett, and he was in jail to boot. Hell, he’d hit on Jett’s boyfriend. Yet there Jett was, no questions in his eyes, no judgment, no doubt. Maybe he was an unusual model for a father, but in that moment, he was everything a good dad could be.

Well, maybe a little “fuck the man” to fill casting as Ward Cleaver, but he was supportive no matter what.
He had a family. A
family.

Now what he needed was a boyfriend.

Cole headed back to his cell, but he carried with him the image of Jett and Goldie standing in the station lobby, waiting for him to be set free. He couldn’t help but smile.
“This is surreal.”
The officer escorting him laughed. His heavy black brows rose as he locked Cole into the cell. “You’re telling me.”

* * * *
“So do you think you can win this, Care?” Jett asked Carol as she approached. He gave her his best grin, hoping it worked even when he wore a suit.

Judging by her grudging return smile, it did. “I refuse to discuss this case without my client present, but I fully expect you to have him with you very soon, whether or not all charges are dropped.”

Carol air-kissed Billy, gave him a long-suffering look, and headed for the door. As she exited, Jett glimpsed the press swarming outside the doorway. Sarah would arrive soon and organize a brief press conference out front to answer the basic media questions about Cole’s arrest and Jett and Goldie’s presence at the jail.

It had never occurred to Jett that the police had feelings, but standing in the lobby, listening to the officers’ talk, he realized they were as frustrated with the circus outside as Jett was. The whole thing made him feel like a tool.