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        If you were to ask past Pepper Ballard (the Pepper Ballard who once lived in an average town with humans) if she would ever be in the situation I was in now, she would have thrown her head back and laugh, then called a psych ward.

                  And a catering service.

          The only door in our "cell" which had been locked tight for hours finally opened, and a orange, yellow, and red mohawk-ed became visable. He stood in front of a mysterious, brightly lit hallway. I was definitely getting too used to being in the dark because my eyes started tearing from the light he had let into the room.

                   "Dinner is served," Nacho said, and a morsel of food plopped right into my lap. It was hard, definitely stale, and smelled a bit like mold. I spread my hand along the ground and found an aged piece of cheese. I sniffed it and took a bite.

                  It wasn't cheese.

                  My stomach growled for the five-thousandth time.

                  "My compliments to the chef," I said sarcastically, spitting the contents in my mouth to the side. "Next time we'll just kill one of the rats in here and eat that. Protein."

                  Nacho snickered, throwing a large bag into the room. It had some clothes in it and a bunch of medical equipment. No blood, which made my hybrid side start to sob. The more I thought about blood, and the more I smelled Sin's wound, the more I was losing control.

                  The cell door slammed shut.

                  I squeezed my hand into a fist.

                  "Bastard!" I roared after him, forgetting that Sin was sleeping.

                  The male model next to me stirred at my scream, his body quivering and his mouth slightly open in a pant. He sat slouched at an awkward angle, with his neck tucked into his chest, back against the wall, one long leg stretched out, the other curled, and his hand pressed against his wound which was bandaged by yours truly. I was certified in seven areas of first aid, but since I was given poor bandages and materials to work with, I simply could only do my best. Not my very best.

                  "I told you not to let me fall asleep," Sin croaked, wincing as he sat up taller against the wall. His voice was very rough like his throat was dry. Had he not been bleeding out at the time, I would have considered it a guy's sexy sleepy voice.

                  "Yeah, well that's all you could physically tell me when Nacho threw you in here before you passed out. I need you alive or I'll have nobody to cuddle with and complain to. The rats in here aren't hospitable."

                  Sin made a noise that resembled a laugh, then hissed in pain. Actually hissed, like an animal. I definitely had to still get used to that.

                  "You're hurt, you need to sleep. I'll be fine."

                  "You won't be fine. None of this is fine! We're in a god damn cell under Smiley's watch!" Sin took many ragged breaths and calmed down, lowering his voice and turning his slowly head down to me. I could vaguely see the blueness in his eyes and the shadow of dark brown stubble on his jaw. "We're just as good as dead unless we're both awake and thinking of an escape, and you know it. You will not let me sleep again."

                  I edged closer to him, my voice barely a whisper. "We can't do jack-squat until you put  muzzle on your macho pride and let your body rest."

                  "I was resting," he grit out.

                  I stared at Sin's shadowy face, trying to read him as best as possible, and fighting the urge to stab him somewhere else and let him bleed out even more. "Is there something you're not telling me? What's the real reason you won't go to sleep again? Do you know something?" Suddenly, I began to press. "What did Smiley tell you?"

                  "Nothing, he didn't tell me anything. I just don't trust that Taco guy," Sin admitted a little too quickly. "Next time I close my eyes, they could never open again, and  he could take advantage of you. The thought of that..." He took a deep breath, a low, protective growl rattling his chest. "I need to get you out of here, I don't care about what happens to me."

                  "As sweet as that  little speech was, you're an idiot for saying that, and you know it. I'm not worth you dying."

                  "You are completely worth it, Pepper Ballard. I'm the one who determines who's important in my life, not you. You're worth everything." Sin's eyes temporarily grazed my body, then he reached a hand slowly and shakily to my face, cupping my chin. It was then that I wanted to tell him about Hunter's visit to the cell, which I hadn't exactly...gotten the chance to explain...

                   "By the way, if I reach the brink of death tonight, you better show me your goods before I croak."

                  I hit him lightly on the leg. "Stop it."

                  Sin gave me a sad smile. "You're beautiful, Pepper."

                   I started to laugh,  pressing my cheek into his hand. "My goods? That made you sound really old, grandpa," I whispered.

                  "Fine, then I'll reword it. If you want me to die a happy homophobic Psycho you'd show me your tits before I die," he teased.

                  An ache settled in my stomach. Not going to lie, supernatural Pepper got seriously horny after that one.

                  Regardless, I rolled my eyes at Sin. Truthfully, I was trying to hide the fact that I was about to cry. I hadn't even considered Sin dying that night. "Jesus Trinidad, you're going to make me start crying, and you know it'll be the ugly cry too because now that I'm a hybrid I find myself super sensitive about everything." I leaned in and gave Sin a quick kiss on the lips. It was a sweet kiss, that brought heat to my face.

                  Sin looked stunned when I pulled away from his mouth. "What was that for?"

                   "I'm sorry for calling you homophobic and psychotic, ok?"

                  "I'm sorry for giving you a C on that one essay when you deserved an A--"

                  "WHAT--?"

                  "Kidding. I knew it was your way of flirting with me by using those nicknames anyways," Sin interrupted, wincing a little and then situating himself. "Admit it, I'm an attractive man, and you're an unusual woman who normally isn't attracted to men like me. You went from calling me a homophobic-psycho, to grabbing my junk in the school's public bathroom, to hating my guts, to giving me a pity kiss, because deep down you know that you like me and don't want me to die."

                  Girl, hop on that D while'st you can. Hottie tamale is totally about to croak like a frog.

                  "I thought you forgot about me grabbing your junk," I muttered bitterly, then jokingly punched Sin in the arm as he laugh/coughed again. "We're both getting out of here alive, Sin. So stop pissing circles around me and rest. Let me think up a plan while you sleep. I'm the master of escaping, I got this. Ask Timmy Wilbert, who tied my wrists up with friendship bracelets in order to get my Dunkaroos." My hands fisted at the elementary school memory of the yellow-haired boy who had sat across from me in our assigned lunch table and cynically tried--and most of the time successfully, stole my Dunkaroos almost every day. That is, until I finally lost it, insulted his mother, and slapped him in the smirking mouth. He ran out of the cafeteria crying and I victoriously enjoyed my lunch from thereon out. Timmy Wilbert was never seen again.

                  "I don't think so Timmy Wilbert, I don't think so," I whispered under my breath, reaching for the bag that Nacho had thrown into the room. I spread out the medical supplies on my lap and placed a clean man's size XL shirt to my side, then carefully tore off Sin's dirty bandage. The smell of blood overwhelmed my senses and my hands started to shake.

                  "Sorry if that hurt," I said.

                  "You have nothing to be sorry about."

                  "This is really hard for me," I said, ridding of his dirty bandage. "You reek of blood, and I..."

                  "I know," Sin said gently. "I know it's hard, but I trust you. I know that you won't hurt me, Pepper."

                  I blew out a long breath, hoping that I wouldn't.

                   Our serial killer had been nice enough to  let us have baby wipes, which I used to wipe down my hands and around Sin's wound. Using a few cotton balls in the medical kit, I poured antibacterial solution on them and started to dab at the gaping wound in Sin's chest.

                  "Mother fu--!" Sin bit his lip and moaned loudly. Had my hands not been covered with his blood, I would have thought he was practicing for a X-rated movie.

                  "I'm trying to be gentle."

                  "I think there's a splinter," Sin wheezed out, clearly in agony.

                  I froze, no longer dabbing the wound. "What?"

                  "I think there's a splinter in the wound from the stake, and I think it's pressing against my heart. That has to be why I'm not healing." He winced greatly, letting out a slow breath before continuing. "I should be at least halfway healed by now, but I'm not. I didn't want to tell you--"

                  "Well then! Bite down on something because Pepper Ballard is going scuba diving in your wound."

                  "Seriously? You're going to get it out?"

                  "No, I'm going to let you die and then fart on your grave," I deadpanned. "I have no other choice, Sin. I promised you that you're coming out here alive, if you aren't healing then that's not going to happen."

                  "You're ok with sticking your hand in my chest?"

                  "Pepper Ballard has stuck her hands in worse things," I replied.

                  Sin's eyebrows shot up.

                  "Forget I didn't say that. Sin Trinidad, if you so much as say one more word against me getting this splinter out, I'm going to knock you out cold with my uppercut, and then fish in your chest with my fingers like those board walk games with the fishing pole with the magnets at the end and the rubber duckies. Then I'm going to get that wooden stick I was talking about and carve my name into your ass."

                  "Alright, alright," he said, putting his hands up.

                  Fighting back the bile in my throat, I did just as I said I would and stuck my fingers into his wound. It was slimy and lumpy and the nastiest experience of my life. So yes, I tried to make a little fun out of it.

                  "Tickly tickly!" I sang, moving my fingers a little.

                  "What are you doing?" Sin grit out. "That fucking hurts!"

                  "Gah! This is like a really graphic version of that board game, Operation! I do stupid things when I'm nervous! I mean-- I'm the doctor!" I shouted back, concentrating once more. I carefully felt around the wound until I felt something sharp against my pointer finger.

                  "There! That's the spot!" Sin roared, gripping my upper thigh. Again, I would have taken that very sexually, had I not been covered in his blood. "Hold onto it and don't let go. It's going to be slippery."

                  "I'm trying!" I gingerly tried to pick up the small, sharp splinter deep in the wound.  "I can't get my fingers around it! I don't know how!"

                  "Jesus Christ, this isn't rocket science, Pepper!" Sin turned his head to the side, growling wildly, visibly restraining yourself. "You need to get to the spot and then get your fingers around it and yank it hard. Don't worry about hurting me, at least you're trying!"

                  "Ok, you could have worded that a lot differently!"

                  "What!"

                  "That part about getting to the spot and the fingers and, well, the whole part--!"

                  "Get your mind out of the gutter and get this wood out of me so that it stops squirting out stuff from your damn nervous fingers jamming uncontrollably into my body!"

                  "Seriously!" I shrieked. "You did that on purpose!"

                  Sin wheezed a bit with laughter. "Just get it out!"

                  I finally got a grip on the splinter and yanked  it out with one pull. Sin slumped against the wall, giving my thigh a single slap. Thank you is what I got out of it. He was clearly too tired and too much in pain to say anything else.

                  I quickly washed my hands again, washed his wound and chest, then put many fresh bandages over the wound.

                  "I believe everyone in the vicinity of 600 miles now thinks I lost my virginity in a dirty cell to the Good Twin," I commented sardonically, carefully helping him sit up from the wall so I could slip a fresh shirt over his head.

                  "Good Twin. That's funny." When Sin's brown waves and now sparkling eyes poked up through the neck hole, he was grinning lazily at me. It was an wicked smile. "So you're a virgin, eh?"

                  "Oh shut up," I laughed out, then added, "and look away. I have to get your blood off of me before I start licking it." Now looking at him, I turned away from him slightly, stripped my bloodied shirt, tossed it to the corner of the room, and slipped on the last man's XL shirt in the bag that Nacho had given us.

                  I sighed, leaning back on the wall next to Sin. "Now what?"

                  "I'm not sure."

                  "You aren't sure? Aren't you the oldest one in the room? Aren't old people wise?"

                  Sin flicked me in the arm.

                  "Ow!"

                  "Filter," he said, then, "I think we need to make a scene to get the guards in here. Then we can take their weapons and get out of here before we find out why we are here in the first place."

                  I glared at him. "We aren't doing anything. I'm going to make a scene and get us out of here. It has nothing to do with you being weak or any other macho thoughts that you're having, it has to do with me wanting you being alive. I'm being selfish, so let me be selfish, or else we'll have a problem. If you do have a problem with that, I'll find the nearest wooden stick and carve my name into your vampir-ey ass. Got it?"

                  Sin briefly shot a nasty look at me, then turned his head away from me.

                  "I said"--I moved my mouth until it was millimeters from his ear--"...got. It?"

                  Sin's jaw clenched so hard that I could have sworn I heard a crack. It was then that I grabbed his hand and held it tightly. "Got it," Sin finally said, "but I don't like this. I don't like that you're protecting me. I don't need protection. You do. Smiley has taken a liking to you, it's you that he wants, Pepper. You're the reason I'm still alive right now."

                   "I don't care if he's taken a liking to me, and I don't care if he's keeping you alive for a certain reason. I'm taking control of this situation, Trinidad. I'll remind you again, no matter what you say, I'm getting you out of here alive and it's going to be my way." Scooting closer to him, I then lowered my voice until it was practically inaudible. "Now here's the plan--"

                  The cell door flew open, hitting the wall with a loud crack, and the last person I expected to walk through that door came strolling into the room like he owned the place, with a gun aimed straight at Sin Trinidad's face.

                  "Get away from her or I'll blow your face off," Gary hissed. "Smiley."

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WHAT. EVEN. I KNOW.

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1. What do you think shall happen next?

2. Favorite quote so far?

3. Do you ship #Sepper or #Hepper now? (I ask this because it may change.)

4. Is this book turning out how you wanted it to?

5. How many clichés have you spotted so far in the book? 

6. What clichés do you expect to see in this story in the future?

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