Jett (4 page)

“Yes!”  I said.  “I promise I’ll make it worth your while, Colt.  My management company will pay you very well.”

“This is just a trial thing, Jett.  I have a life here.  I’ll come down, assess the situation, and see what I can do. Maybe I can find you some permanent, effective security.”

“Okay, Colt, thank you so much!  I knew I could count on you.”

I figured I would wait till he got there to tell him that I would never trust anyone else but him.

“I’ll have my P.A., Sam, call you with the flight details.  I can’t wait to see you, Colt!”  I told him, before getting off the phone.  Excitement raced through my veins, and I realized it was the first time I had been excited about anything in quite a while.

When I got on the bus, I told Sam to make all the arrangements, gave her Colt’s number, and closed myself off in my bunk as the swaying bus lulled me to sleep like it always did.

But this time was different.  I was smiling.

☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼

THREE DAYS LATER

Jett Ghianni!

Jett! 

What a trip. 

I never expected to hear from her, and I certainly never expected my cock to swell like it did as soon as the sound of her voice hit my ears.  When I agreed to fly out, I did so without fully thinking it through.  I was thinking with my heart, and my cock, letting the memory of her laughter override any good sense I had.  

We were young, but that’s what made the memories so intense. I never touched her, outside of that one first kiss that wasn't really a kiss. 

I didn’t have too many good feelings when I thought about my past before the explosion, but the ones that I did have almost always included the sound of Jett’s laughter.  She was so easy to be around.  She was my escape.  The three of us were always together, and when I did get a few moments alone with her, away from Ciara’s incessant babbling, it was always easy and peaceful.  I cherished those moments, and they were a big part of what got me through those nights when I was locked up.  

I had missed her.  I had tried to push her to the back of my mind, though, attempted to chalk her up to one of those people who had moved on way beyond my reach.  Even though I had hoped to somehow see her again, I never really expected to.

So, when I heard her instantly recognizable, raspy voice, telling me she needed me?  My body wasn’t going to let me ignore that.

But then she told me what was going on, and the protective side of me kicked in, and I knew, even though I initially resisted, that I would go.  How could I say no to her, when her safety was involved?

Still, it took a lot of explaining to Rusty, the President of the club.  But it worked, and he agreed to let me go for as long as I needed.  

“Well, sounds like she’s family.  You gotta go,” he said, his sharp black eyes peering at me from across the bar of the clubhouse.  

“Thanks, man.  I’ll check in often, I promise.  She wants me there right away,” I said.

“Yeah, sure, go.  We can handle things around here for a while.  If anything goes down, or changes, we’ll find you.”

I was thankful to not be under any pressure from the club, and it made it a lot easier to get on the plane that morning.

As soon as I landed and walked out of the Phoenix airport, I saw a suited man holding a sign with my name on it, and walked up to him.   He looked me up and down, his eyes raking across my leather cut curiously.  

“Mr. Colton James?”

“That’s me.”  He took my suitcase from me, and I let him. 

“This way, sir.  Ms. Jett is expecting you.”  He nodded his head, and turned towards a waiting limousine.

I smirked, and followed him.  He was stiff as a board and it took all my restraint not to fuck with him.  He was tall, skinny, and he looked like a good wind would knock him over.  I hoped this wasn’t what had been protecting Jett, because even the weakest stalker could penetrate that security.

He opened the back door for me, and I slid in.  The white leather seats were the softest leather I had ever felt.  It felt so wrong.  Leather was supposed to be rough, rugged and smooth all at the same time.  

I looked around the back of the limo curiously.  I had never been in one before. I thought about Jett again, just as I had countlessly for the last three days. She must be used to all of this by now.

The windows were almost black, and I watched as the city flew by in a tinted blur.  There was a small bar in the corner, with sparkling decanters full of liquor and shiny glasses.

As always, the urge to have a drink washed over me.  I had started so early, taking drinks from my parents’ glasses before I was even ten years old.  I developed a taste for it quickly, and as time went by, I progressed from beer to liquor.  My parents never noticed, and I learned to love the way it dulled the pain of watching them ignore us every night.  

Once I was locked up, it wasn’t as easy to find, but it certainly wasn’t impossible.  And once I went to prison with the adults, it was abundant. The adults were a lot more resourceful.  Hooch was a hot commodity amongst the prisoners, and easy to make.  I imbibed, often.  Until I finally came to my senses and decided freedom was a lot more important than being fucked up and getting in fights behind bars with a bunch of assholes.

I was always tempted, and it wasn’t easy.  But, besides keeping me free, sobriety kept me sane. It was a struggle, sure, but so far I was winning.

As we approached the arena where Jett was performing tonight, the crowd on the sidewalks slowly thickened until there was a steady stream of people filling every inch as they formed a line that stretched for blocks.  I knew Jett was popular, Ciara had told me she had several number one hits, but I didn’t pay much attention to stuff like that.  The sheer volume of people surprised me.  No wonder she had crazies after her.

The limo made a few turns, and slid into an underground parking lot, through one security gate manned by a pimply faced teenager, and then stopped by an opened door that led into the building.  

I got out, and the driver pulled my bag from the trunk.  He led me down a maze of hallways that were filled with people streaming past us.  When we reached the end of one of them, he stopped and handed me a laminate that said ‘All Access’ across a picture of Jett’s face and told me to wear it.  

“This gives you full access.  Ms. Jett is in here,” he said, knocking on the door we were standing in front of.  There was a sign taped to it, with a big star and Jett’s name printed inside of it.  

Quickly, the door was flung open and a petite girl with long brown hair, tortoise shelled glasses, and a clipboard in her hands stood there staring at us.  She took a long look at me, her eyes squinting as she took in my clothes.

“Ms. Sam, this is Mr. Colton James.  Ms. Jett asked me to bring him back once he arrived.”

“Oh. Yes, of course.  Thank you, King,” she replied, then stuck out her hand to me.  “I’m Sam, Jett’s assistant.  Nice to meet you.”

I shook her hand, just as a loud voice yelled from behind her.

“Colt!”  Jett pushed Sam aside, and flung herself at me, her arms snaking around me, pulling me into a big hug.  The smell of whiskey and perfume hit me all at once.  I hugged her back, both of us laughing.

“Hey, girl,” I whispered in her ear, pulling her close and raising her off the ground.  “It’s fucking amazing to see you, Jett!”

I put her back down and she beamed up at me.  Her apple green eyes were just as I remembered them, and I was locked in to her gaze. 

“Everyone out! Now!”  The smile that spread across her face made me feel like I was thirteen again, sitting in the back of my Dad’s truck.  “I need a few minutes alone with Colt.”

“But, Jett, your hair isn’t finished.”  Sam spoke at her side, watching us curiously.

“I don’t give a fuck,” Jett said, her voice slightly slurring. “It’s fine.  Everyone get the fuck out, now, please!”

Jett grabbed my hand, turned, and walked past the half dozen people walking out of her room, pulling me along with her.  

“You’ve got fifteen minutes until show time, Jett.”  Sam closed the door behind her, giving me a little smile before she left.

“Colt fucking James.”  Jett said, leaning against the mirrored counter behind her that was filled with makeup, hairbrushes, blowdryers and a huge vase of white flowers.

“Jett fucking Ghianni.”  I shook my head as I drank her in.   She looked exactly the same and completely different at the same time. Those green eyes that always reminded me of Granny Smith apples?  Those were still there, looking at me thoughtfully, as if she were trying to crawl inside me and understand every inch of me. 

But everything else had changed.  Her boyish frame had turned into a roller coaster of curves.  Her voluptuous breasts were tightly wrapped with some sort of black leather and lace contraption that pushed her breasts up and out, and her curvy hips were hugged by the tightest pair of leather pants I had ever seen. What was once wildly unkempt hair had turned into a blue-black shiny curtain that hung in waves around her heavily made up face.  Any trace of the thirteen year-old body I remembered was long gone.

But those eyes were what hit me.  Her eyes were the same, she looked at me just as she always had, but they were hardened, closed off to the Jett that I used to see there.  No more of that instinctual wide-eyed curiosity about the world, no more…what? No more innocence. Yes, that was it.

But hell, what did I expect? I know she wasn’t seeing innocence in my eyes, either.

“Not anymore,” she said, grinning at me.

“What?” I was lost somewhere between the past and the present, trying to reconcile the girl I knew with the intense creature in front of me.

“My name.  I’m just Jett now.  I changed it a few years ago.  Legally.”

“Oh, wow. Okay,” I replied.  “Well…” I took a moment to rake my eyes over her amazing body once more. “You look incredible. So different. You certainly grew up,” I laughed.

“Hell, yeah, I did,” she said, leaning forward and running her hands over my arms and then fingering the edges of my cut. “Looks like you grew up a bit, too.  Those are some serious guns you have there.”

“I um…I like to take care of myself,” I said, feeling my cock twitch in my jeans as her hands squeezed my biceps.

“I can see that.  That’s good.  That’s real good,” she said.  She let go of me, turned away and reached for a bottle of whiskey on the counter.  She sipped on it heartily as she looked at me again.

“I’m glad you came, Colt. Ciara filled me in a little on your life. I can’t wait to catch up.”

“It’s nice to see you, Jett,” I said.  And goddamn was it nice.  I didn’t expect to feel like this right out of the goddamned gate, but there it was. My cock was hard as rock and we’d barely said two fucking words to each other.  I had to keep my shit together.  I wasn’t a kid anymore, and this wasn’t the back of a pick-up truck.

“Yeah,” she whispered, her voice filled with the raspiness that had made her famous. “You too.  So, listen, my show’s about to start. Come and watch from backstage.  You can leave your bag here.  And afterwards, my record label is throwing a huge party at my hotel later tonight.  We can talk then, okay?”

“Yes.  There’s a lot we need to go over, and we should do it immediately.  I have a lot of questions about your security situation.  I can’t believe how many people are here to see you.”

“Yeah, it’s out of control, isn’t it?  And yet every night, I still think nobody is going to show up.” She smirked, sat down and began pulling on a tall pair of shiny, black leather boots.