Wearing stiletto heals to a dance club would have been insane for most serious dancers but she was nowhere near professional. The ID she flashed the door man was borrowed, but he didn't looked close enough to it, he was paying attention to her curves. It was her blessing and curse.

Passing the make shift bar by she wistfully looked at the vodka at the back row but her heart told her there was no way she could both dance and drink, especially in the shoes she choose for the night. Quickly she found herself on the dance floor in the middle of the heated mass of bodies. No one knew her or her past. This suited her just fine. There were things in her past she would just as soon as forget if she could.

The first half of the night passed in a blur of bumping and grinding against whoever was the nearest to her. Whether it was a woman or man she wasn't too picky. The contact of skin against skin in normal circumstances would turn her stomach inside out but here it was part of the ritual, the dance, and the excitement of it all.

The music was loud and fast the DJ was a former friend of hers and promised a limited amount of slow dances. She preferred it hard and fast, just like her men. He waved from the stand in the front of the club, beckoning her to come speak with him. He had a crowd around him; most of the people were groupies who followed him from club to club on a circuit. In a former life she had been one of those groupies. He was her universe at one time but that was so long ago she almost didn't recognize him when he stopped her on the street two weeks ago. But she was unforgettable.

Blue eyes that looked as if they were carved from a glacier far in the north, blond hair naturally highlighted by the sun, heart shaped face and hour glass figure most woman worked at but came naturally to her; all of which had caught his eye right away. They hadn't seen one another in close to ten years. He changed a lot in that time and it was evident in the bags under his eyes dark brown eyes, hair that was cut at blocky angles and the track mark up his arm he was still into the same things he was into ten years ago. Once her lover and dealer, she was drawn to him not for his personality but his connections.

Shaking her head she spun away from his summons, there were no ties between the two. She appreciated his interest but she was a different woman now. When they knew one another she was a child in comparison to who she was today. Clean and sober for ten years, inadvertently in part thanks to him.

Her hips gyrated to the music blaring from the giant speakers facing the crowded dance floor; blond hair floated around her stomach and sweat pooled in her cleavage. It had been a long time since she was in public let alone on a dance floor. The ache in her feet she ignored in hopes the burning sensation in her brain would be over powered. Arms and legs were rubbing against all types of body parts. Men and women pulsated with the music. Any bystander would tell you later she had the dance floor to herself no one dancing could hold a candle to her. The graceful limbs encased in tight jeans and a barely there tank top moved in perfect time with the music.

She tried to roll the stress out of her shoulders; they had been tense for years. The man she was dancing with was a bit on the short side but her focus was on the beat. He was trying to convince the blond bomb shell to go off the dance floor for a drink. Her intense eyes closed against his words as if she was trying to block everything but her movements. Their bodies moved back and forth together as if they were waves in the ocean, lightly he put his hands on her hips. Helping his timing, she slowly moved now his body slithering only to pop up like a cork when she was near his most excited region. Turning to face away from him she pressed her ass against his hard on and rubbed. It was for neither her pleasure nor benefit it was just routine. The excitement she once had from getting guys off like this had lessened over the years. Especially since she had only been out in public for the last four months. Women were more difficult to excite like this.

A slower song began and he grabbed her around her waist pulling her close. The smell of whiskey was overpowering coming from his breath and pores. He reeked. She used her height as leverage against his strength to push away. Disgustedly she left the dance floor in search of a cool glass of water.

Standing near the edge of the bar, she waited for a break in the constant business of the parched dancers. The bar tender spotted her standing in the corner and nodded to her, letting her know he would be with her shortly.

"What can I get for you?" He glanced at her outfit and grinned.

"A bottle of water, please." She had learned over the years a kind word could sometimes go very far with people.

"You want some alcohol to go with that." He raised an eyebrow at her, questioning her lack of interest in freeing her inhibitions with a little booze.

"No." Putting her money on the counter, her hips moved of their own accord with the music.

"Whatever." He put the money in his pocket rather than the cash register, which instantly put her on edge. She waited patiently for the water as the music picked up again.

A red and blue light flashed against the window and immediately caught her attention. She didn't wait for her bottle of water. Exiting the building, she didn't look behind her as the raid went down. For once in her life luck was on her side as she slipped into the darkness of the night. Her heels clicked rapidly taking her away from her passion and poison.