A few weeks later, Jordan says, she was driving down the road that led to their house when she saw him attempting to get into a car with a stripper from the club. She flew into a rage, hit the gas and clipped him with her car's bumper. He soared into the air and hit the pavement, injuring his leg.
Instead of driving away, Jordan jumped out of her car and rushed toward him. "I'm so sorry," she said. "I didn't mean to. I'm so sorry, honey. Whatever I —"
"Run, run, run," Warren yelled. He knew the police would be there soon.
Jordan wouldn't leave. As the ambulance took him away, the police took Jordan to jail. She spent more than a month behind bars and received probation for aggravated assault. It was her first felony.
Jordan and Warren couldn't see each other while she was serving time, so he sent letters addressed from "Papa Bear," proclaiming his love and asking God for forgiveness for the bad things they'd done to each other. He even asked her to quit stripping. He'd stand in the parking lot in front of the jail, waiting for Jordan to look out the window. She'd look out for a moment before being led back to her cell.
Jordan went back to Warren after she got out. It was about three months later that she started to feel it — symptoms that felt like the flu, only supercharged. Nothing to worry about, Warren assured her. It was flu season.
Jordan found out she was pregnant on Halloween in 2009. Warren cried, but not tears of joy. It wasn't, apparently, the momentous occasion he'd described in his letters. Not long after, he began accusing her of sleeping around. Some of his friends were also telling him that Jordan was prostituting and posting ads on Craigslist. They broke up a few months after she learned she was pregnant, she says.
Then, in April, a doctor told Jordan she had tested positive for HIV. She felt alone, dirty, nasty. She was numb, and she worried her unborn child would contract the virus. She called Warren.
"I'm sorry," he said. "I've been tested, but I'll get tested again."
If not Warren, where did Jordan contract the virus? She wasn't sure. She'd had a few slip ups in the past, but —
A few days later, he sent her a text.
It was onstage with 100 Proof Hatred, bandanna low and stance aggressive, that Warren first caught Carol's eye. She'd seen him around the metal scene, and she wanted to meet him, maybe even fuck him, but not marry him. She was 29 and working as a real estate agent during the day, partying with friends and musicians at night. Life was good for a change. ("Carol" is a pseudonym.)
Carol had a look and vibe seemingly designed to ensnare Warren: smart and confident, long dark hair and cat-shaped eyes that accentuated her exotic appearance. She grew up in Flower Mound, but she'd been attending Pantera concerts and partying with bands since high school. When a mutual friend offered to set her up on a date with Warren in early August 2011, she naturally agreed. Warren, separated from Jordan for more than a year by then, agreed too.
They went to The Rail Club, and Warren was in his element. They hit it off, but then Carol felt unusually wasted after her second drink, she says. She found it hard to focus as the night progressed, and she eventually blacked out and woke up the next morning in Warren's bed.
She only remembered bits and pieces of their sexual encounter. She knew she should be angry, but she found him charming, even if it would never lead anywhere. "I never saw myself with him like that," she says. They kept dating. She went to band practice and shows and liked most of his friends. It was fun for almost a month.
But in late September, Carol got sick — supercharged flu symptoms just like Jordan, plus other symptoms of an STD. She went to the Tarrant County Clinic in Fort Worth for treatment, worried she had herpes. "It's probably that," the doctor told her, and sent her to the lab for testing. She requested a full checkup, including an HIV test.