Page 31 of Filthy Messages: Stalker Alert!

I paced the room before banging on the door—screaming profanities and demanding to be let out at anyone who might be on the other side.

I stared at the stupid phone that lay smashed on the table before I slumped down onto the bed.

Fuck him.

???

It had been two days since I last saw Roman. Nothing changed. I was still locked in the room. The only person I saw was Eleanor, who looked bitchier than usual. I was left gobsmacked when she cleared out all the hangers from his wardrobe. They weren’t even made of wire. They were wooden.

He really thought I would do that?

Then again, how much did we really know about one another?

By the third day, I felt as if my skin was crawling. The uncertainty and the guilt of him thinking I would harm an innocent child. My innocent child. And the fact that my temper tantrum had been savage. It may have been justified. It just hadn’t been executed correctly.

I flicked through the books that Eleanor had left me. Most of them were books on pregnancy and motherhood, but a few of them were fiction. I didn’t want to think about the fact I might be pregnant.

It was late afternoon when I heard some commotion outside the door.

“I don’t give a damn, Eleanor. Open the door for me.” I heard a female voice demand.

I frowned at the voice before rushing to the door and put my ear on the wooden door.

“But Mr Neri—”

“I don’t care what my brother said. Open the door, now.”

I heard the door unlock, and I quickly moved away from the door just in time as it was flung open, and a young dark-haired woman walked through the door.

I felt embarrassed my hair was a mess, and I was wearing his shirt so that I could smell the bastard. My eyes welled up, and she scrunched up her face before she came over to me and hugged me.

“Oh, dear. What has he done to you?” She said, patting my back as I hiccuped and snotted all over her shoulder.

I quickly brought my hand up to wipe my nose as the tears kept streaming down my face.

I didn’t even know his sister’s name, but it just felt damn good to have some female camaraderie after ass-licking Eleanor. His sister didn’t let go of me but guided us to his bed.

“I’m Rosalie, Roman’s sister.”

“Yeah, I heard you at the door,” I said, wiping away my tears. She must think I’m a crackpot or having some kind of nervous breakdown.

When she asked what had happened, I told her the truth from the beginning keeping the x-rated content out because, ewww, this is his sister.

She sat there holding my hand while I talked, and other than a couple of guiding questions here and there, she let me tell her the entire story.

“Hmm. You’re both so cute and stubborn as bloody ox’s. Seriously though, you threatened to pop my niece or nephew out with a wire coat hanger?” She said before she started laughing.

She laughed so hard that she fell back onto the bed. I looked at her in confusion.

“It figures my brother would pick someone as demented as him,” she said, looking up at me and grinning.

I give up and flop down on the bed beside her.

“I would never poke my own kid out. One, I’m squeamish. I can’t cope with blood. Two, it’s a baby. It’s not the baby’s fault it’s daddy is a homicidal maniac,” I grumped out. “I was just so sick of being stuck locked in a bedroom. Like—like some kind of sex toy.”

Rosalie turned on her side and put her hand under her chin.

“My brother has some severe form of compulsion when it comes to protecting his loved ones. You know about our parents?” She asked.

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