"Goldie," Kace said softly, while his hand grabbed my shoulder.

"No, don't touch me! Don't fucking touch me," I cried, tears streaming down my face.

"Goldie, come here," Babs said, reaching her arms out for me, but I swatted them away. I didn't want to be held, I didn't want to be consoled, I wanted Jett. I wanted my man back, I wanted the Lafayette Club back, and I wanted my life, the life I knew as mine, to come back.

In one single moment, everything I've ever wanted, that I've ever cared about, was taken away from me.

I heard the girls talking around me and saw the look of total devastation on Kace's face as my vision blurred. Before I ran off, I saw a small tear peek out of Kace's eye, which he quickly wiped away, but that was it for me. I couldn't stay; I had to bolt...I had to forget.

"Goldie, where are you going?" Babs called after me, as I sprinted through the crowd, pushing people to the side, trying to get as far away from the smoke and the creaks and cracks as I could.

As I ran, visions of Jett being suffocated by the black smoke ran through my mind, turning my stomach raw. I paused on a sidewalk, held onto a tree and threw up, multiple times, until I could only dry heave. Convulsions shook my small frame and a cold sweat ran over my skin. Once there was nothing left in me, I looked around to see where I was, and I ran to the last sanctuary I had. In front of me was Jett's mom's gravestone; the original location that brought me to Jett. In a sick way, my life was coming full circle.

My body felt lifeless, tired, exhausted, so I collapsed in front of the gravestone, pressing my body up against the cold marble stone.

Broken pieces of the grave dug into my skin, but I welcomed the pain, anything to dull the torment that was running rampant through my veins, the unyielding agony that wouldn't ease in my slowly dying heart.

I rested my head on my hands and cried in front of the grave, while the black smoke from the house started to pool over the cemetery, making the atmosphere dim and bleak, like my future. To say there was a black cloud over my life was an understatement.

Tourists milled about me, spoke softly to each other about the crazy woman, crying in front of a gravestone at the ever-so-popular Lafayette Cemetery. Children cried when they saw me and two people took pictures of the crazy lady. If I had enough strength in my bones, I would have flipped them all off, but there was nothing left in me.

I wasn't sure how long I laid there; time seemed to escape me as I tried to envision my life without Jett. It was impossible. How was I supposed to give up something that I just recently obtained? How was I supposed to let go of the fact that I fell in love with the most complicated, charming, and sexy man I've ever met? How was I supposed to move on from this?

Thoughts of pulling a Romeo and Juliet ran through my mind as a heard footsteps walk up to me. Expecting it to be a tourist wanting to poke me with a stick, I didn't look up until they stopped right in front of me. My vision blurred from my tears, but I knew those shoes.

In a sheer panic, I wiped my eyes and looked up to see Kace looking down at me. Disappointment washed over my body, as I thought the man who was standing in front of me was going to be Jett. I was sadly defeated.

I rested my head back down on the ground as Kace squatted in front of me.

His hand ran across my face and tried to wipe away the continuously falling tears that would not stop. Carefully, he sat down next to me and pulled up my upper half so my head was resting on his knee. We sat silently as he stroked my back and I cried.

His warm embrace should have been comforting, it should have made me feel some kind of semblance of "home," but I still felt empty inside.

"Please tell me it's not true," I squeaked out, my voice hoarse from crying. I gripped onto his hand and said, "Tell me it's not true."

Kace cleared his throat, but said nothing. Through blurry eyes, I looked up at him and saw that his eyes were just as red as mine, just as puffy, and his demeanor looked like he literally just lost his best friend.

"What are you not telling me, Kace?" I asked, trying to wait for the blow.

"Goldie..."

"Fucking tell me!" I shouted.

"They found a body..." Kace choked on a sob.

"Wh-what? No, no, this is not happening."

I blocked out the hand on the window; I convinced myself this wasn't true. It just couldn't be true. There was no way that whoever was writing this fucking story of my life could take Jett away. I couldn't believe it. We were supposed to spend our lives together, we were working things out, and we were going to finally live our lives the way we wanted to. We were finally given a chance.

"This can't be happening..." I whispered softly, falling into Kace's arms. "I love him, Kace. I fucking love him; he can't be taken away from me."

"Goldie..." that voice haunted me, that deep southern voice haunted me as I cried into Kace. It wasn't until I was transferred into another set of arms that I looked up to see Jett staring down at me.

At that moment, it felt like my veins busted and white bursts prickled my skin, making me numb and unable to function. His hair was tossed to the side, his clothes were wrinkled, and he was disheveled. His eyes were glistening, and that's when I realized he was real.

"Jett," I choked out a sob and squeezed him until I took his breath away. I looked up at Kace, who had his hands in his pockets and was looking down at us. He looked relieved and satisfied. Quickly, he wiped a stray tear, gave me an almost sad smile, and then turned on his heels, leaving us in his wake.

I wanted to scream at him not to go, to come hold me as well, but it was time to let him go, to eternally thank him for his friendship, his love and his protection, and move on.

After saying a silent goodbye, I pulled away from Jett and gripped his face. With shaky hands, I brought him close and carefully placed a kiss on his lips, reveling in the feel of his warmth, of his body pressed up against mine.

His hands ran up my back and carefully gripped the back of my head as he kissed me forcefully. I felt the need in his touch and the tension release from his body at finding me. His lips parted and mine did as well as his tongue slipped into my mouth, pushing our kiss further. Deep yearning ran through me as I straightened and sat on his lap, wrapping my legs around his back, making sure I was as close I could be to the man.

Needing answers, I pulled away and looked into his deep blue eyes as tears clouded my vision.

"Little One..." he said softly, pulling me into his embrace. I wrapped my arms around him and let his head bury into my hair.

I loved this man, everything about him...from his moody tendencies, to his inability to let go of control, to his kind heart and his rare show of humor. I would bleed for this man, I would kill for this man, I would die for this man. He is my light, my savior, my fucking everything.

"Jett," I whispered, while shaking my head. "Wh-where were you?" I hiccup-sobbed, sounding not in the least attractive, but was too far gone to even care. I knew there were pools of mucus falling out of me, but I just let it happen, because all that mattered was I was holding my man in my arms.

"You scared me," he said, while kissing the top of my head. "I couldn't find you once I found out the club was on fire. All I cared about was finding you," he said relieved. "When security said they lost you..."

"Wait, what?" I asked, pulling away, completely confused. "You thought you lost me? Do you realize that we all thought you were dead? That we saw someone on the third floor and thought it was you?"

"Why would you...?"

"Why didn't you answer your phone?" I interrupted him. "I tried calling you, but you wouldn't answer. You always have your phone."

Jett searched my eyes as he thought about it. "I left it in my office when I left. I was in a hurry earlier. I had some things to do."

"You left it?" I hit his arm and said, "Don't ever fucking do that again. Jesus Christ, Jett. I thought you were fucking dead. We all thought you were fucking dead."

"Shhh," Jett cooed. "I'm here, Little One. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I put you through so much distress."

"I thought you were dead," I whispered, burying my head into his shoulder. "Who was on the third floor?"

"I'm here," he replied softly. "We think it was the girl you ran into. The police found her car not too far away from the club, full of cans of gas, kindling, and a very vivid diary of her plans to take back what she lost."

"I knew something wasn't right. I wish I would have gone back and warned you, none of this would have ever happened."

"There was nothing you could have done, Little One."

I shook my head in disbelief and replied, "I love you. I love you so fucking much. Please don't ever leave me."

"I don't plan on it," he said, while placing a kiss on top of my head.

"The club. What happened?"

Jett sighed and gripped me a little tighter. "It's gone."

"I know," I teared up again. "Our sanctuary, your beautifully built club is gone."

He nodded. I felt him sag a little from defeat. I couldn't imagine what he was feeling. His club, his mansion was his pride and joy. He spoke so highly of the establishment, of what it represented, of what it offered and who it helped. It wasn't just a home, it was a place of new beginnings, a place full of second chances, a place where family by soul came together.

"I'm so sorry," I said, while kissing his cheek.

"We will rebuild," he replied, with that deep dominant voice of his. "We will rebuild and we will thrive, Little One, and do you know why?"

"Why?" I asked, while I placed my head on his shoulder and allowed him to stroke my hair with his fingers.

"Because we're a triple threat. With justice, faith and power, we will thrive and rebuild. There is no one to stand in our way now. Together, we can do anything, Little One. Together, we have the power to accomplish anything."

"Together?" I asked.

"Together," he said, while nudging me and lifting my head.

He smiled brightly down at me and lifted his hand up to my view. His hand opened up and inside was a ring with a large yellow diamond and small little yellow diamonds surrounding it. I gasped and quickly looked up at him to see if he was serious. His smile was devastating as he grabbed my hand and never strayed from my gaze.

"Never in my right mind did I think I would meet such a sassy, gorgeous, foul-mouthed, and kind-hearted woman like you, Goldie, but the moment I saw you in this very spot, tapping your foot to the music running through your ears and drawing my mother's grave, I knew I had to make you mine. I knew my mom brought us together for a reason. It took me some time to actually accept my fate, to know you were meant for me, to care for my heart, and I'm sorry for all the heartache I put you through, but if you will allow me, if you will so kindly grant me the honor of handing over your heart to me for eternity, then I promise you, I will do everything in my power to guard it. Goldie, will you do me the honor of marrying me?"

My heart beat rapidly in my chest as my eyes wandered from Jett to the ring and then back to Jett. Was he serious?

"Oh, my fuck, kick me in the crotch and call me fucking Sally! Of course I will marry you. I'm going to marry you so fucking hard."

Jett shook his head and laughed, as I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed the ever living piss out of him.

34.

"America's Sweetheart"

Goldie "Stop fidgeting," Jett whispered in my ear as we walked down a very small red carpet that was full of flashing cameras and shouts from the press covering the rather popular event we were attending.

Turning toward him so the press couldn't read my lips, I said, "I'm pretty sure I'm going to piss myself."

Nervously, I gripped my collar that Jett so thoughtfully replaced, after the one he originally gave me was caught in the fire. This one matched the diamonds in my ring, showing just how thoughtful the man I loved was.

Chuckling softly, he kissed the top of my head and said, "Don't be nervous, Little One. You deserve this."

"Mr. Colby, Mr. Colby," reporters called out, trying to gather his attention. "Is it true you're engaged? Mr. Colby, do you have time to answer a few questions?"

"Throw them a bone," I said, while patting his chest, glancing at my ring. It was something I did very often, not because it was a fucking boulder sitting on top of my finger, nope, it was because it was Jett's mark on me. Once and for all, I was his, forever I would be a Jett Girl.

The day of the fire, I couldn't even think about it, it still made my skin crawl. It's been a few weeks, but it still seemed too fresh, seeing the movement on the third floor, thinking it was Jett, not being able to contact him; it all boiled down to the worst moment in my life, next to losing my parents.

After they were able to put out the fire, investigators went in and were able to confirm that Mercy started the fire. She apparently spent a good amount of time dumping gasoline along the front perimeter of the house, making sure to ignite the damn place. She then helped herself inside, through a window she broke, lit the gas on fire, and then trailed her tank throughout the house until she made it to the third floor; she was practically a human blow torch, igniting everything in sight. I'm still shocked the girls and Kace were able to evacuate as quickly as they did with some of their things. Thankfully, Mercy missed the "servant's quarters" when she was lighting shit up.

Fucking crazy ass bitch.

It's scary to think Jett could have been on the top floor...that he could have been trapped, but thanks to one simple phone call from a jeweler, a jeweler I will forever suck dick for, he snuck out the back and went to get my ring. Not even Kace knew about the proposal.

It's so weird how little things, like a phone call, can save your life, or how a small coincidence of drawing a gravestone over and over again can bring two helpless souls together.

"Come on," Jett said, as he pulled on my hand, knocking me out of my thoughts.

I trailed behind him, holding on to his hand tightly as he curtly nodded to a reporter at the end of the pit. Jett adjusted his tie and cleared his throat, "Mr. Cardone, what a pleasure to see you."

"Mr. Colby," the man said, while shaking Jett's hand. "Thank you for coming over here; may I ask you some questions?"

"Of course," Jett said kindly, as the other reporters crowded around Mr. Cardone, sticking their recorders as close as they could get to have a chance at the little Jett Colby exclusive being conducted.

"Thank you. I promise to be quick. Can you make a statement on the recent engagement rumors?"

"I can," Jett said proudly, as he pulled my hand up to his lips and kissed my knuckles gently. He looked down at me with the sexiest smile I had ever seen and he said with great pride, "Mr. Cardone, please meet my fiance, Goldie Bishop, the woman who's stolen my heart and the talented artist who will be showcased tonight."

In one quick wave of light, cameras pointed at me and started flashing at an unsurmountable rate, making it hard to keep my eyes open. So, instead of looking toward the pit, I looked up at Jett and smiled.

"Congratulations," Mr. Cardone said. "You are one lucky man."

"That I am," Jett agreed.

"Can you tell me how you two met?"

"Through the true luck of serendipity." Jett kept it simple because, apparently, she was a hooker that I pulled from the pit of Bourbon Street wasn't as romantic as the word serendipity.

"Do you have a wedding date?"

Jett tore his eyes off of me and looked at Mr. Cardone. "Not at the moment; we're just enjoying being engaged right now."

"An honored tradition," Mr. Cardone added. "The news about your mansion being burned down has been a popular subject in the city, any plans to rebuild?"

"Yes, we will be meeting with contractors soon to preserve the look and feel of what the Lafayette Club used to be. The club is just a possession; I'm just grateful no one who matters to me was hurt."

"In the meantime, where are you staying?"

Jett gave him a pointed look and said, "That's not really the media's business, but I will say that we are staying at one of my many properties while we figure out the rebuild of the club and continue to concentrate on the construction of the community center, which is my top priority. Until the center is complete, we will hold off on construction of the house. I have plenty of places to stay, but there isn't a community center where people can gain a second chance."

We were currently staying in a hotel Jett owned on Canal Street, and the proximity to the French Quarter was dangerous for me because every Saturday, I was drawn to Cafe du Monde for my weekend intake of beignets. Jett refused to miss our new tradition, but my ass was starting to wish we'd skipped a weekend or two. Jett thought differently; he rather enjoyed the extra little curve to my ass, fuck did he enjoy it.

Even though we didn't have the Bourbon Room to play around in, the man came up with new and exciting ways for me to submit.

Did you know there are suction cups strong enough to hold up a grown human against a floor to ceiling window? Yeah, me fucking either, but holy hell is that an experience.