Page 32 of Plot Twist in Pelican Point
"And he believed it?"
"Of course he did. Ego’s a funny thing. All she had to do was whisper the right lies, feed the insecurities. Make Kate look selfish. Unfocused. Disposable."
"And now?"
"Now we finish the story. Sebastian loses control. Snaps. Kills the woman he was falling for. Everyone mourns the tragic author who got too close to the fire... and no one questions the man who warned them it would happen."
I stop breathing.
"And once Sebastian’s in ruins—career gone, name blackened—Roger finds comfort where it’s convenient. In familiar arms. My sister gets her shot at the happily-ever-after she was denied. And me? I get the satisfaction of destroying the man who took everything."
The voices move closer. I hear the drag of boots on concrete, the snap of latex gloves.
My heart slams against my ribs. No. No. No.
I try to move. My fingers twitch. Barely—but it’s something. I focus. Breathe.
Harper would do more than cry and beg. She’d wait. Plan. Exploit every weakness. I created her to survive monsters. I can survive this.
Time drips by like molasses in January.
Above me, movement—footsteps, the screech of something heavy being dragged. A door opens and closes. I can’t see anything—just the flicker of a bare bulb overhead, swaying like it’s counting down the seconds I have left.
My wrists are raw. They’re bound behind me with something rough—zip ties, maybe rope. My mouth is dry. My legs feel sluggish, but sensation is coming back.
“She’s awake.”
That voice again. Closer now.
Boots approach.
"You know, this isn’t personal," Ruiz says as he crouches in front of me. I finally see his face. Smug. Handsome in a too-perfect, politician-meets-psychopath sort of way.
“Could’ve fooled me,” I rasp.
He smiles like we’re old friends sharing an inside joke. “You were collateral. Until you became a liability. And now you’re leverage. A means to an end.”
"Funny," I say, voice hoarse. "That’s how I describe cowards who text from fake numbers."
He tsks softly. “Smart mouth. It’s going to be your undoing.”
I lift my chin. “You sure about that? Because I’ve written better villains than you. And they had actual motives—not middle-school envy.”
Something flickers in his expression. Irritation. Just a flash—but it’s there.
Good. Stay sharp. Keep him off-balance.
He stands. "Get the tape."
The other man moves toward the table. Metal clinks—tools, maybe. The scrape of a chair. The hairs on my arms lift.
Then it comes—the unmistakable zzzzt of duct tape. The sound rips through the air like a blade. I taste adhesive before I smell it—chemical, sharp, final.
They're not trying to scare me anymore.
They’re going to kill me.
They’re going to frame Sebastian. Make it look like he snapped. Jealous. Dangerous. Unhinged. And they’ll bury me with the lie.
