Jordan's Shadow

by T. R. Cupak

  Jordan

  Caden became my friend while I was at the Cosmopolitan. The morning after I met him we ran into each other at Starbucks, after I went and bought myself, well, everything a girl could need. Later that day we hung out by the pool and Caden asked where my “boyfriend” was. I told him Hunter really does exist and made up some stupid story about why we were staying at separate hotels. I told him it was because this was supposed to be a guy’s trip, but Hunter couldn’t go that long without seeing me. He actually said he understood.

  He then confessed that he was here licking his divorce wounds. He didn’t want his buddies around telling him “I told you so” so he jumped on the first flight out of Seattle and ended up staying in Vegas during his layover to Los Angeles. Caden has been nothing but nice and very respectful. He fended off douchebags that tried to hit on me, and I saved him from skeevy gold diggers. It worked out for both of us.

  After our pool day, he tried to teach me craps, but that was an epic fail, so then he showed me Pai Gow Poker. Now that was more my speed. We played in the high roller room until midnight, hit Marquee nightclub, and people watched from our VIP section.

  I’ve never been one to flaunt money, well, because I never had any, but right now, it’s been a blessing in disguise to have my own means to take care of myself.

  Now, a day and a half after living my life for me, I am back in Hunter’s room, watching over him. He didn’t even give me a chance to explain. Hunter went from skanky bitch on his lap, to yanking me off of my couch.

  The only reason I went to that stupid strip club was to see if I could handle being in the presence of Arthur and Christian. I didn’t intend for a UFC throw down to happen. I also didn’t expect the hostess to seat Caden and I right next to Hunter’s table. That was so stupid. I was stupid.

  After one of the bouncers tossed Hunter into the back of a limousine, I used his phone to text Monte and let him know what happened. I told him to make up some excuse as to why Hunter had to leave and won’t be back to the Wynn until tomorrow. The bellhop helped my get Hunter to the room and onto the bed. After tipping him, I grabbed my cell phone from the charger and called the Cosmopolitan. I asked them to deliver everything I left in my room to the Aria. I then asked to be transferred to Caden’s room and left him a long voicemail apologizing profusely, and thanking him for trying to protect me, before finally hanging up.

  I’ve been pacing back and forth in front of the floor to ceiling window looking out at the Vegas strip. It looks peaceful from this high up. Hunter stirs from the bed and I turn my attention towards him, but he rolls to his side and continues to sleep. Caden clocked him good. No, he knocked him the fuck out is what he did, and well, Hunter kind of deserved it. He’s the one who threw the first sucker punch back at the strip club.

  I know I made a mess of things once again. Fuck, I could have ruined everything if Arthur and Christian were sitting at the table with Hunter. There’s no way Hunter would have played it cool and all of our planning would have been for nothing.

  Walking over to the bed, I lean down and whisper, “I’m sorry, Hunter. I wish you would have just let me explain everything.”

  My body screams it’s tired, so I crawl into bed next to the man who holds my heart and say the only words that mean anything, and hope he can hear me, “You breathe, I breathe, baby.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Hunter

  I wake up and begin to freak the fuck out thinking I came back to the room with some random bitch, but when Jordan’s perfume hits my nostrils and her arms wrap around me tighter, I know I’m okay; I know I’m where I should be. But then, remembering where we are and what we’re supposed to be doing, that’s when I really start to panic. She can’t be here at the Wynn. Those assholes are in the next room. Her being here will surely jeopardize everything we have set in motion; and that’s when I really take in my surroundings, realizing I’m back in our room at the Aria.

  What the fuck happened last night? My mind draws a blank and it’s pissing me off that I allowed myself to black out. That wasn’t part of the plan, not by a long shot.

  “Precious,” I whisper in effort not to startle her awake. “Baby.”

  She unwraps her arms from my body and I immediately miss our connection. Jordan stretches her limbs, before her eyes open and land on me. The sad smile she has makes my heart hurt. Why would she be sad?

  “How do you feel?” she asks, concerned.

  “Besides being confused, I’m fine. Why do you ask?”

  “Don’t play dumb, Hunter. How’s your head?” she asks once again.

  Struggling to remember anything from the night before, I look to Jordan for answers. I’m at a loss without my memory.

  “You really don’t remember?” Jordan watches me skeptically. I really don’t remember and the look she has on her face says she doesn’t believe that I don’t remember.

  “Remember what? How did I end up here when I’m supposed to be at the Wynn with those fucking idiots?” I don’t like not knowing what’s going on. She’s the only one who can give me answers and she’s not being very forthcoming.

  “The strip club, me punching you, you getting in a fight with Caden. None of that rings a bell?”

  “Who the fuck is Caden? Jordan, help me out here.”

  She gets up and I see her right hand is bruised and swollen; and then I see a hand print on her bicep. What in the fuck? I’m about to lose my shit when everything flashes before my eyes as if I was dying. I remember doing lines of cocaine with Arthur and Christian. I remember going to the strip club. And then, I remember; I remember Jordan showing up with some other guy. My head snaps up to meet her eyes. Jordan sees that my cloudy memory is clearing, and begins to back up when I sit up in bed.

  “Who is he, Jordan?” My body is vibrating from the anger coursing through my veins. I’m doing everything I can to not scare Jordan into the mystery man’s arms, but I’m fucking livid.

  “He is, or—was a friend. Someone I met where I was staying. And no, I didn’t spread my legs and fuck him,” she spits out. Recollection of those exact words coming from my mouth has me cringing. I accused her of fucking him without asking her, and that’s when she punched me. All I had to do was ask her who he was. Jordan would never lie to me.

  She then continues, “Caden was being a Monte without being—Monte. He warded off the weirdos, and was nothing but respectful of our relationship. I know I fucked up by showing up at the strip club, but I had to know.”

  “You had to know what?”

  “If I could be near those men,” she confesses.

  Jordan had every right to be there, but she should have let us know. We could have taken precautions to make sure she wasn’t seen by Arthur or Christian.

  “Where in the hell was Monte during all of this?”

  “Babysitting our targets.”

  “Oh,” is all I say while mulling over the missing pieces from last night. She’s given me answers to my questions thus far, so I ask the one that has been weighing on my mind since she took off, “Precious, why did you run?” That’s the question I should have led off with. I need to know why she disappeared and then shows up a couple of days later with some random guy. Fuck, my head hurts just thinking about it.

  “It’s stupid, really. I was hurt and jealous.”

  That answer raises more questions, “But why? You were so happy on the plane?”

  “The stupid limo driver,” she begins. “He asked if you were going to your normal place, and I just got all weirded out. I started thinking about your other girlfriends coming here, to this room with you, and then my imagination just got worse from there.”

  “Oh, Jordan. No other woman has ever been to Vegas with me, and no other woman has been in this room or any other room I’ve ever stayed in. Why didn’t you just talk to me?”

  “Because I was stuck in my head, Hunter. I didn’t know how to navigate the feelings of jealousy or anything else that I conjured up. I felt like I wasn’t s
pecial, which is crazy, because you prove to me every single day that I am. I’m truly sorry for running off, for Caden, for almost screwing up what we’re here to do.”

  Her tears break my heart. We’re both in the wrong on this, and we both need to forgive each other and get back to being us.

  “I’m sorry for hitting your friend. The cocaine had my mind spinning.”

  “Cocaine? Hunter!” Apparently, she didn’t know about that, but now she does.

  “Precious, can we forget about last night and just be us again? I don’t ever want to know what it would be like if I ever lost you. You know I love you, and what I did and said was out of line. I really am sorry.”

  Jordan climbs back on the bed and snuggles up against my side. “I never want to know my life without you, either. The last couple of days were carefree, but it’s something I would never have done if I wasn’t trapped in my mind. I missed you terribly, Hunter; I just needed a distraction to get out of my head.”

  “Caden was the distraction?” I still can’t help my own jealousy that another man helped her through her craziness. That’s what I’m here for. That’s why I’m Jordan’s, and she’s mine.

  “Drop it, Hunter. Nothing happened.”

  “Come here,” I say pulling her closer and kissing the top of her head. She melts against me, like we’re one, and I love that we can have our differences and get back to this point after talking it out. As Jordan requested; I drop it.

  Jordan

  After a morning of mind-blowing make-up sex, Hunter headed back to the Wynn to begin the preparations for tonight. He encouraged me to take some time to myself and enjoy a day at the spa, so that’s exactly what I’ve been doing. Hunter had my body massaged, my face pampered with a hydrating facial, and my nails and toes done. He really is the whole package and I can’t believe I almost screwed it all up because of my own stupidity.

  Before leaving the spa, I asked if someone had time to do my hair. The hostess looked at the schedules and said that she could get me in within the hour. She offered access to the sauna, steam room, and women’s Jacuzzi, so I accepted.

  Now that I’m back in my room I grab the custom-made blood red dress that Hunter helped design for me. I still can’t get over his impeccable taste in clothing. Slipping the elegant fabric up my body, has me excited for tonight. You would think I would be terrified of what is about to go down, but Hunter gives me strength and Monte has our back. This will go smoothly.

  Up to this point, I haven’t had a drop of alcohol since arriving in Vegas, but tonight I did have two glasses of champagne for a little boost of liquid courage. After checking my make-up one last time in the mirror, my phone chimes with Hunter’s text tone. He informs me that they are now arriving at our agreed upon location. I grab my black Prada bag that pairs nicely with the five-inch heels I chose for this evening’s festivities, and head down to where my limousine awaits.

  Once we are en route, I text Monte to let him know; I didn’t want anything distracting Hunter from what he needs to accomplish in a short amount of time. It was about a forty-five-minute drive before the limo came to a complete stop behind the abandoned warehouse I am to meet Hunter and Monte. The guys had the outside façade constructed to look like a brothel of sorts, which was how they lured Christian and Arthur out here to begin with. They thought they were getting an all-expense paid fuck-fest for the next hour or so.

  The driver opened my door, and helps me out of the car. As I make my way to the back door of the warehouse, the driver then goes back to the car and drives away. Not once did he ask if he should wait or what this mystery place was, so I’m guessing he is on Monte’s payroll.

  Without wasting anymore time, I enter through the back door as I was instructed and I’m instantly taken aback by the extensive décor on the inside of the warehouse. If I didn’t know any better, I would have thought I just walked into some swanky sex club. All that’s missing are all the naked people fucking wherever they please.

  Monte comes out from behind black curtains and stops dead in his tracks.

  “Um. Hm. I don’t know about this?” He finally spits out.

  “I want them to remember who I am and what they did to me, Monte. The best way to make sure the recognize me straight away was to change my hair back to blonde.”

  “Hunter is going to lose his shit, but that’s between you two,” he says as he leads me behind the curtains he just emerged from.

  The view I have scared me at first. I felt like Christian could see me, but Monte assured me that it was a two-way mirror and he can only see himself. Walking up to the glass, I stare into the small room, and watch as Christian squirms, pulling on his restraints trying to break free. He’s tied to pommel horse, with a red ball gag in his mouth. The irony doesn’t escape me that Hunter chose a red ball that happens to match my dress.

  “That’s right, squirm motherfucker,” I hiss out towards the mirror.

  “Jordan?” his voice whispers from behind me.

  I turn around slowly, letting him take in the sight of me with blonde hair. It’s hard to gage his reaction, but his next words make me feel better about my decision to change my hair.

  “You are absolutely stunning, Precious.” Hunter takes me in his arms, planting one of his leg-wobbling, passionate kisses on me. The way his mouth caresses mine had me forgetting about the view on the other side of the mirror.

  There’s something thrilling about how everything is set up. Not only is Christian tied up and gagged, but the room is covered in plastic, exactly how Dexter would do it. “Here, take a seat,” he says as we round the velvet couch. “Are you sure you want to be here for this? You don’t have to be.”

  “Oh, I’m sure. Eye for an eye, right?”

  “Yeah, baby.”

  A few minutes pass when Monte escorts a buck-naked, obscenely hairy, heavy set man into the room. He has headphones on as well as a blindfold. I don’t understand the blindfold.

  “Why the blindfold?”

  “In the slightest chance something goes wrong, we didn’t want him to be able to identify us.”

  “Does he know he’s going to fuck a man?”

  “Yes, Precious. We got that part covered, okay?”

  All I can do is nod and watch as Monte leads the man towards my attacker. Christian sees the reflection of the beastly man in the mirror approaching, and realizes he’s been set up; his eyes say he doesn’t understand why.

  Monte hands the guy some lube; it was the least we could do since he did lube up before fucking me in the ass while his buddy, who is in the next room over, was drilling into me from above.

  I grab ahold of Hunter’s hand and watch as Christian’s eyes bugout of his head when the burly man pushes his cock into his ass. He then squeezes his eyes shut tightly; the tears that stream down his tortured face brings me pleasure while most would freak out. This vile piece of shit is finally paying for the hell he put me through.

  The fat man pounds away behind him, making him grunt and squeal out since he can’t actually scream out. My stomach begins to twist when my own memories start to flash before me. I remember exactly what he felt like when he plowed into my ass as if it were yesterday. Yes, what he’s going through is very much deserved.

  The blindfolded fellow pumps his hips faster and faster until he pulls out and shoots his load all over Christian’s back. Christian has crocodile tears flowing down his bright red cheeks, and I feel no sympathy for him. He deserved the ass fucking he just got.

  Monte returns to the room and escorts the stranger out. About ten minutes had passed when Hunter’s phone chimes and he looks over at me, “Are you ready?”

  Standing up, I hold my hand out to him, and he happily takes it. “Let’s go say hello.”

  We walk into the room and it smells rank. I can’t tell if it’s blood, feces, or both, that is smeared on Christian’s backside, but it really doesn’t matter. His head is lying on the pommel horse, so he hasn’t seen me yet. I walk around to the front of where he
’s bound to, and lift his head up, looking him straight in the eyes.

  “Do you remember me, motherfucker?”

  He begins to mumble through the gag, but I have no desire to hear what he has to say. Hunter joins me, and bends down to his eye level. “Pay back is a bitch, isn’t it? Too bad you won’t live long enough to turn your son into the worthless piece of shit you are. At least now he’ll have a fighting chance to be a decent man.”

  Before Hunter could carry out the next phase of Christian’s fate, I pull the tactical knife I bought while roaming around Vegas, walk back around the pommel horse to be next to Christian, lifting his head back, and run the sharp edge of the blade across his throat like it was nothing.

  “Rot in hell, bastard.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Hunter

  Note to self; never get on Jordan’s bad side. That was ruthless, but hot as fuck to watch. She’s found a strength that I never knew existed, and all I want to do is leave this place, return home, and live happily ever after. That happy thought was short lived when Monte comes back into the room.

  “Clean-up crew is here. They need to begin work on this situation. Jordan, are you up for what’s behind door number two?” Monte asks her.

  “She’s more than ready. She did this,” I explain to him.

  He looks at me and then back at Jordan. She shrugs her shoulders like it was nothing.

  “Savage,” he says admirably.

  We leave the first room before the clean-up crew has a chance to see who we are, and head into the next plastic covered room. This room is sound proof. We knew others would be here, and we didn’t need them to hear what was going on. They just needed to clean up the aftermath.

  Honestly, I’m more disturbed that Monte has these kinds of connections. Another note to self; don’t ever piss off Monte.

  When we enter the next room, a naked Arthur is sitting in a chair with his back to us. His hands and feet bound to the chair with cable ties. We quietly walk around to the front of him, and can tell he still thinks he’s getting laid. True prick until the very end.