Didn't know it then, but I was careless. I loathed having to relive every single pain I felt daily, and that made me walk on dark slippery grounds.

The music dropped, and what followed next were my heels tapping fiercely on the stone carved floor. A choking coldness filled the room, gripping me with its iciness and subtle shudders. All eyes turned my way and remained on me. Rehearsed breathing techniques seemed useless to me at this moment, as I strode to the center. My blood red lips glimmered to the dim blinking neon lights that was lined on both sides of the wall, and my black off-shoulder bodycon minidress danced with my thighs from side to side as I moved. The color was an even to my toned skin.

Fog swelled about my feet as I moved, and looking across the room, I noticed it lingered around everyone else's. I came to a halt in the middle of a wide diameter of black and white flooring which was carefully distinguished from the rest of the club's floor. Timing myself, I undid my bun, shook my head, and down came my raven hair to my back.

All gaze remained fixed on me, just as I wanted.

No smile is found on my face, only a sheer sternness like a lioness stalking a deer on guard, who's ensnared in her territory. She knows her prey is already within her lasso, but she doesn't underestimate it, and focuses her soul on its every move.

My prey was in view, with his ass lazily glued to the bar's seat, with his legs cross atop each other. He had a glass held up to his chest, and a cigar dwindling between the fingers of the other hand.

I was here for a show, and I could see from his eyes that he loved it, and wanted to ravage without haste the sight he saw.

I slid my right leg soft and slow forward, wriggled my body a bit, then arched my head to the back, letting my hair drop. After a spontaneous dramatic pause, I put my head back up, and began to warped my back in and out in another slow sensual twist, while pulling my body to the floor and up again.

I made eye contact with no other person, just the man in a white suit and Rolex on his wrist jingling, as his finger tips now tapped on the bar table from last to thumb and back again.

The dance floor was cleared, and I was encircled by stunned -primarily curious- spectators. None else dared a dance under the sparkling disco ball.

I paused, and tapped my heels twice, hinting the DJ which he followed with my own jam.

I spun around, my back his front view, my hand waving in the air like a rebel, my eyes closed and my head nodding to the beat.

Almost the instant, a tight grip cuffed my waist from behind, and pulled me closely in. I could feel the heat from his groin, but I did not look back to see who's strong hand held me. I bent over causing him to loosen his grip, and I began rummaging his waist-down slowly, grinding him. I went up, down, and rotated about the same spot in a slime-like pace, and made sure my moves kept sending his mind on a sprint.

I'm no pro, but a good twerk leaves a man craving.

I dropped low, squirming to the rhythm of the music, and he followed with his hands on my hips. He then trailed his hand to my waist, pulled me up and braced my back on his chest.

My head rested on his shoulder.

He tenderly caressed my cheek with his hand, and I could feel his warm breath on my neck, sending sharp tingles that sprinted through my body. I wanted to grab his soft hand on my face, close my eyes and groan loudly in delight, but the pleasuring sounds were lost to the strength of the music.

He took my left hand, lifted it over my head, and spun me around. I fell into his arm as he firmly secured me from falling. I looked up to his neatly trimmed bearded face, and his tempting cotton pink lips. His gaze were stamped on mine, not even blinks saved me from those gray pupils.

My prey!

I smirked innardly, but my face held no emotions.

He pulled me up, and I wrapped my hands over his neck, and we began to rock back and forth in a waltz, as the music began slowing to its end.

More people began to join us on the dance floor, until it was packed tight.

Noticing guests intruding our moment, he held my arm, and pulled me out to the bar.

We both giggled like an eloping couple on their first night alone under the starry sky, as we settled on the bar stool.

"You are amazing!"
He complimented.

I simply blushed.

"Tequila!" He ordered, "Two shots please."
and gestured two with his fingers.

The bartender sent two glasses which came sliding over the counter to us. Without hesitation, I grabbed them, and gagged one down, while closing my eyes to allow the burning liquor through my throat, then followed suit with the second shot.

I turned to face him. He looked stunned.

"What?" I chuckled. "I didn't come here with just my dance game on..." I smirked.

"Impressive!" He smiled and gestured for four more shots from the bartender. He drew in closer to my face.
"Tell me, what do I call this Amazon goddess?"

Naomi? No! I couldn't tell him my real name.
"Julie!"
I lied.

"Permit me to offer you another drink, Ms Julie."
The four tiny glasses of tequila were already laying in front of us.
"You can have them all, if you want."
He pointed to them.

"No no no!" I tried defending my fading integrity. "I needed those to calm the tension."

"Tension? The dance?" He nodded to the dance floor.

I said nothing, as I had a tequila shot running down my throat.
"Uh-uh!"
I agreed with a nod, half wincing between sounds.

"The DJ? I noticed."
He asked.

"I tipped him..." I giggled. He had a questioning look over his face. I went for another of the glasses. "I love making an entrance." I lied again.

"For a nervous-shy young lady, you sure have a strong will for attention."
I only smiled, and acted shy. He reached out for my hand, and bundled it in his. I looked up to meet his piercing gaze.
"How do you feel about receiving that attention from the one who's in a better position of giving it to you tonight?"

"It'd be a pleasure!" I smirked.

He screamed out, drummed on the counter, called for the bartender, and handed him his credit card.

"Ya-hoo!"

He was more jovial than I had anticipated, and it left me reanalyzing the facts. He wasn't who I wanted, but I knew this white man in a white suit, worked for the devil I sorted for.

Few minutes later, we were out of the club, and in his Ferrari, on our way to a good time for him, and an opportunity for me.

The speed was beyond limit, and we were flying to meet pleasure. He was in a haste, or maybe too horny to take a chill. He slowed down, and then cut the car engine.

"It broke down, in the middle of the road?"

"We're here!" He spoke into a phone, dropped it, and stepped out of the car.

"Hey!" I called out, and followed him outside. "Wh-what's wrong?"
I found myself stuttering.

I was so lost to the plan in my head, and didn't take notice to the drizzling snow, which painted the road white and icy.
I shivered and rubbed my shoulders with my hands.

Not a smart dress for the weather.

"I'm so sorry, something just came up." Another car pulled up in front of ours, and immediately, a smile invaded his face.

I was on my guard.

A woman stepped out of the car, in sun glasses, and a white suit. I couldn't recognize her at the time, and the glasses hid away most of her face.

She walked closer to me, with a pistol pointed to my chest. I took notice of the gun, and instinctively had my hands in the air.

My eyes were wide open, my legs too had fallen weak, and all my eyes caught upon, were blurs, as tears tried to find it's way to my face. I was scared.

Face to face with a loaded gun, was not part of my rickety plan.

"What's all this...what's going on here?"
I screamed at the man in white.

"Hello Naomi!"
The woman walked closer to me.

"Who are you people? How do you know my name?"
My heart leapt up and down within the cage of my ribs, and my chest pounded.

"This is just a warning honey. Don't annoy the wrong people."

She fired twice, and the first two bullets pierced through my abdomen, and the next dug into my shoulder. Three hot metals, were already inside my body, and I honestly cannot remember what the pain was like.

I was losing my sense of self, and everything was turning to a blur. I could see their grin as I dropped to the ground. So this is how I die?

Silence was the loudness ripping my ears apart... I heard nothing, felt nothing, and saw nothing.

Am I dying?

Death, the only phenomenon that defines life, and within it's cold crispy-dry arms, the only thing that flashed before my eyes, were only the present and my numbness.

Blaring sounds from screaming sirens broke through the silence of that cold winter night. The heavy thumps from boots, drowned deeply into the snow, making the steps of the thick spectating crowd, even the running medics, to seem as though they were slaps from a baby's rear.

"Hurry, we don't have a second to spare... More pressure! She's losing a lot of blood!"

These were the words drumming in my head as I forced my eyes open, but the blur wouldn't give way to a more vivid vision.

From where I laid, I could faintly see the yellow and black tape, silently screaming "Crime scene, keep off!" to as many who stole a second glance at it. Who would dare go over and under them? I certainly wouldn't.

Within the grasps of my hazy vision, I could see a figure, a person... No, people, talking. What are they saying? Mummering my death? Humorous, but I don't think so.... Or could that be it?

Everything was beginning to lose sense, and so was I.

I also couldn't feel my legs, only a severe dish of pain, coursing through every curves and cranny of my little caramel body, moving like an aimed shot of electricity.

Even the words from my mouth, were weak.

"Is that blood? Where is it from?"
I can clearly remember my hands coated in heavy redness of a thick iron smelling liquid, a significant amount I was never used to, although an ample doze of pressure was pressed against my shoulder, but it couldn't force back the one stench I find extremely nauseating. If I wasn't already fixated on this pain, I'd have thrown up the cheese burger and smoothie I had few hours before my expedition to the club.

With the pain and the gross aroma lingering in the air, the details to whose it was were still vague to me, but my brain, and the pulsating pain, knew the truth, and they weren't hesitant in the slightest: they tattled.
"It's my blood? Oh Lord it's my fucking blood!"

One signal the scanning antenna in my head caught on vividly, was a cop talking over their radio. The middle aged -I think -white man was reluctantly chanting "black woman down!". He wasn't asking for backup or anything, he was simply enjoying the wrongful use of his racial slur.

Truth be told, this was definitely not one of my finest moments.

"Naomi?" Somebody said my name.

"Naomi, you're gonna be alright, just stay with me."
No sir, somebody was saying my name, but who? And how did they know my name?

The snow was a bit shallow, and thus wasn't a bother to the rushing tires of the stretcher, literally a magnet to the spotlight shinning over my limp body.
All I remember before was a bang, the recoil of a gun, and next to that was me, fighting to keep my eyes open, until I eventually didn't.
I think I was shot.... Shit! Somebody shot me!

She did it? She? Who's she?

And why?