The Story of Blood and Roses

When I pulled in front of my building, I saw Anthony duck and give the building an odd look.

"Nice place," he commented cryptically and I let him know what I thought of his reaction. "You find me creepy? Please. I'm anything but creepy. Take me up to your apartment and get to work woman. Some food wouldn't be bad, either."

"Chinese?" I prompted and he shrugged. I supposed that it was time to order some Chinese yet again. Pulling out my cell phone from my pocket I pressed the number one and let the speed dial take over. The phone rang twice before the person on the other side picked it up. As if recognizing my voice, the man greeted me and asked me the order. I rattled off the best food from the menu for two. I already knew what the bill was going to be. I also didn't have to tell them my address. They informed me that my order would be delivered in fifteen minutes. I thanked them before hanging up. When I looked up, I saw that Anthony was giving me the same look that he had given when he had first seen my apartment.

"How much do you order food from outside?" he asked, his voice gruff. He pressed his lips together as he stared at me.

"I can't cook and I don't have anyone to take care of me, so I live off of takeout and instant made mood," I shrugged lightly.

"But you cooked for everyone when you were staying over at my place," the weird look had made a reappearance.

"I don't get what you are getting at. I made food because I had the time to. I usually do not have time to cook or am too exhausted to pull something edible off. It's understandable." I didn't like how defensive I felt at the moment. If this was what he was doing outside the building, I took only imagine the sort of questions he would start asking when he entered the apartment.

"Keep a maid or something," he huffed. "And this apartment is too big for you."

"Firstly, I like my privacy and don't need anyone to encroach on my personal space. Secondly, no place is too big. I live alone and I like to live in comfort."

"We'll see when we get inside."

"The primary reason why I didn't go into police academy was because of the glamour of the world of the criminals, remember? I like luxury. I spend money on material things."

"If privacy was such a huge thing for you, you would have bought the whole building." I raised a brow at him, feeling smug that he'd fallen right into the trap. "You're kidding, right?" I shook my head. "Oh, goodness. Ethan was right. You're seriously not letting anyone know what is up with you. You let no one know your story." He shook his head and then turned to me with a smile on his face. "Let's go upstairs and see if I can unveil all your secrets, shall we?" The challenge was clear in his eyes. My fears throbbed at my limbs, but a shot of excitement ran through my veins at the prospect of coming undone in front of the man. To test his deducing skills would be a treat, a fearful treat if he figured out my secret.

When I passed the mailbox, I saw that the butts of envelopes were peeping from the slit. I unlocked the box and took out the mail. I stared at the number of letters that I had received. I knew for a fact that none of the bills came to my mail. My mail was usually empty with only unsettled dust flying around inside the box. The letters were all unassuming at best. The covers provided no indication as to what would be inside. The only thing that I could probably deduce anything from was the handwritten address at the back of the envelope.

Not wanting to look suspicious or draw attention to the letters, I tucked them under my arms and motioned Anthony to follow me.

When we stood in front of the door I heard Anthony chuckle. Disturbed by the sudden intrusion in silence I turned and gave him a scathing look. Expecting another round of assumptions, I put one hand on my waist and waited for him to speak up.

"You don't even have a nameplate on your door!" and like he had cracked the funniest joke of the century he started laughing loudly.

"I don't need it. I don't want people to know where I live. I don't want to startle awake one night to see a gun pressed against my forehead, thank you very much," I sneered at him. Clearly, this was a bad idea. And the fact that I was banking on Anthony's need to plan out things so that he wouldn't poke around had left me at a disadvantage. Therefore I had struck the axe on my own foot.

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