5. Who set me up

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Jordan

"Where the hell is he?" I heard someone's loud voice in my dream.

My eyelids twitched. The voice doesn’t go away. It tore through my fogged-up head, sharp and pissed, dragging me out of whatever drunken void I’m stuck in.

Fuck. My head is pounding like someone shoved a sledgehammer in there.

I groaned, rolling to my side, trying to push the ache down. My arm hit something heavy and soft but didn’t feel like a pillow.

My brows pinched as I squinted. There’s blonde hair resting all over my damn arm.

My heart skipped, and my brain slammed to life.

"Jordan!" Ashley’s voice blasted through the room as the door crashed open, smacking the wall like she used her full body weight.

I froze. My eyes shot to the woman next to me.

She was blonde and naked, her face half-buried in the pillow, her bare back fully exposed.

"The fuck? It wasn’t a dream," I muttered. I thought I heard Ashley in my dream, but damn it...

Ashley stormed in, eyes blazing like fire. "Hngg, so you were cheating on me, Jordan? That’s why you dared to ask me for a divorce out of the fucking blue? And you even accused me of infidelity when you're the one doing the exact same thing?"

She grabbed the girl, yanking her up like she was garbage. The blonde shrieked, covering her chest with one arm and scrambling for her panties and heels. Clothes were scattered like confetti all over the hotel floor.

I sat up slowly, the pounding in my skull growing louder and louder. What the fuck was going on?

"Wait—what are you talking about? Cheating on you?" I rasped, blinking at her, my voice dry as sand.

Ashley wasn’t listening. She was seeing red, like completely lost in it.

"Are you being serious right now?" Justin, my friend, barked from the doorway. He was glaring at me like I’d just committed some sort of war crime.

Billy was beside him. My brother. Standing stiff, arms folded, looking like he was disgusted to breathe the same air as me. My eyes darted between the three of them, and my mouth went dry.

"What sort of game is this?" I managed, trying to keep my voice from shaking. "Who the fuck was that Blondie?" I hissed, glaring at them, still trying to make sense of it.

Ashley walked up and grabbed my shirt collar. Her breath was hot on my face.

"I should be asking you who the hell you've been with in a fucking hotel room!" she screamed, louder this time.

I looked from her to Justin, then to Billy. My stomach sank. I knew exactly what this was. This wasn’t about cheating. This was about the divorce. Ashley’s a sharp one—too sharp sometimes.

If she could prove I was screwing around, even if it was fake, I was fucked. My chances of getting my son—just the thought of it hit me like a damn truck.

I shut my eyes briefly. My memory was all fog, but bits and pieces started to push through.

I remembered last night. Leaving the house after telling Ashley I wanted a divorce. Her screaming behind me. Me driving off to that bar. Yeah, I drank way too much. I remembered talking to that guy in the blue-striped suit... slowly, my memory started to jungle itself back together.

"Is it coming to you now that you cheated on me?" Ashley yelled, arms flying to her waist like she was in some courtroom drama. "Oh, in case you're trying to deny it, here’s a photo," she snapped, flashing her phone’s screen in my face.

But everything she was saying was background noise in my head because I was too busy remembering... the stranger. The one I kissed. He brought me here. Wait—was he part of the plan? Was this all a setup? Ashley had to be behind it. This whole shit felt orchestrated.

"You know what, Jordan Blake?" she said, jabbing her finger into my chest. "I think we really should get the fucking divorce you want. Because I can't stand a cheating husband."

She turned to Billy, who had been standing there the whole time with his hands stuffed in his pockets like a mannequin. "Your brother wants a divorce. It's not my fault—you can see it." Then she spun on her heel and stomped out of the room like she was proud of something.

Billy said nothing and followed her.

Bastards. Jerks. What the hell do they think? That I'm stupid? Maybe I’ve been stupid in the past, but not this time. They carefully planned this shit and I know it. I have to find that guy. I need answers. He had to be in on it.

"Man, how can you ask for a divorce and then cheat? You seriously don’t know what that means?" Justin yelled, but quieter now like he was just tired.

"Justin, I didn’t do shit. I have no idea who the fuck that Blondie was..." I said, rubbing my temples.

"Since when did you start lying, man?" Justin threw his hand in the air, pacing the room like he didn’t even know me anymore.

I sighed, scratching my head. It still felt too light. Like the night before left me hollow.

"Why would I lie to you? I don’t know her. I don’t know how she got here."

"You probably don’t remember 'cause you were too drunk—"

"Hell no," I cut him off, shaking my head. "Someone brought me here. And it was a man. The guy I was sitting with at the bar."

I got off the bed as I said it, heading into the bathroom to splash cold water on my face. My hands grazed my lips. He kissed me. That guy kissed me. What the hell was wrong with him? Who kisses a drunk man like that?

But... I kissed him back. And for some stupid reason, it didn’t feel wrong. It felt... good? God, what the fuck was that?

I finally dried my face with the towel and walked back into the room, I looked down at my pants on the floor. I didn’t remember taking them off. And I know that guy didn’t. I slipped into them anyway.

Justin was sitting on the couch by the window now, watching me like I was an alien.

My phone rang.

I walked to the table beside the bed to pick it up, but my eyes caught something else—something small, shiny, and rectangular. A business card.

I picked it up and turned it over.

*Call me if you need a lawyer* was written across it.

The name *Jagger Walker* boldly crested in gold.