A static hum thrummed in the car, and Nieto recognized the noise. Often, he wondered what the noise was, but it only happened when Juniper was angry, so he let it slide.

"You can't sell me to your goddamn friend. I'm a person."

Slap. Slap. Slap. The blows came fast and hard across Juniper's face. His fingers felt as though they burned into her skin.

She was angry, but he was angrier.

"The fuck?" He slapped her again. "You have no rights. I do what I want with you."

Chest heaving, he caught a look at Juniper's expression and sat back as if to relax.

Her face was flushed from the repeated blows. Her eyes brimmed over. Not from tears, but from anger. The humming seemed to fill up the car, filling Nieto's head, too. His skull pounded. Juniper's killer stare probably had something to do with it.

Perhaps in an attempt to prove his point, Nieto's hand went up her skirt to yank at her underwear. He appeared satisfied when they ripped apart. With a smile, he dangled the pink and yellow remains of her unmentionables from his fingers.

"Man, those came off easy. You know what's next."

Juniper sat, unmoved.

Then she said, "I need something first."

She reached for her bag on the left side of the seat. As she rustled around inside the bag, Nieto asked,

"Is it coke? Lube?"

He laughed, thinking himself immensely witty. Juniper rolled her eyes, glad to be turned away from him.

Juniper decided to laugh along, but for different reasons. Finally, her hand settled on the what she had been looking for. With little hesitation, she spun slightly, driving a knife upward into Nieto's side. His body froze up. His laughter choked off into silence.

The day she began involuntarily working for Nieto, he'd instructed her to carry a weapon with her at all times.

"A kitchen knife will do," he had said, "but it has to look serious. No butter-knife-bullshit. Five or six inches long at least. Just in case."

This wasn't her first time pulling out the knife. Some clients needed to be deterred, and a serious nice did the trick. Tonight was her first time using it. The moment felt like the 'just-in-case' sort to Juniper.

His eyes bulged. Sweat poured down his temples. Waves of terror broke from his chest (or his red center of emotions), hitting Juniper hard.

Her hand shifted on the knife. She nestled it deeper inside of him, with Nieto emitting a keening wail. She waited. He deserved the pain, she knew that. But, experiencing his abject horror tore at her. She thought she would enjoy this part. Then, he stopped wailing long enough to spit in her direction.

For the most part, Nieto missed. Bits of warm spittle sprayed her swollen cheek. Her disgust spurred her to finish what she started, no matter the hesitation.

"Anyone messes with me, gut 'em like a fish, you said," Juniper reminded Nieto, leaning in the whisper the words in his ear.

With a swift pull, she dragged the knife across his midsection . Nieto's intestines flooded out with a loud, wet squish. In a pathetic attempt, he tried to catch them. His tired arms swung ineffectually at nothing as his insides tumbled into his lap.

"What. What. What." Nieto kept repeating himself, sounding like a broken toy.

He stared at Juniper with glazed eyes and dumb disbelief. His red center was dimming...dimming...

Finally, Nieto slumped in his seat and the light inside his red center extinguished completely.

~*~

Getting rid of a dead cop while parked in front of another cop's house wasn't easy.

Juniper shoved the body to the passenger side and drove the car to an empty industrial parking lot in the city. Using her shirt, she wiped the car of all possible finger prints. On the dashboard and Nieto's stricken face, she spread specs of cocaine for good measure. She robbed him of his wallet, mostly because the bastard owed her, even in death. Inside, she found almost two grand.

Two days later, Nieto's body and car were discovered. Peter openly named Juniper a POI, interviewed her, then released her due to lack of evidence. Her description was passed around to the various factions of the police department. Juniper found all of that out a week after the murder, thanks to Christopher's hacker skills.

Christopher's house became her safe haven for awhile. She avoided the hotels where she might be noticed. She dyed her hair black, and brown colored contacts hid her brilliant blue eyes. Though, hiding at Christopher's wouldn't do forever.

A block from Christopher's house, she called the Coach Inn from a pay phone. Larry told Juniper that her picture had been shown around the motel. He also shared how an unmarked cop car had been in the parking lot for days.

"Don't come here," he advised her, then hung up.

Larry didn't allow Juniper to explain how she had nowhere to go.

~*~