One Stray Rebel

Chapter 8 ~ Flowers for my lady

The next morning, I awoke to the sound of knocking at the front door. James had left for work an hour ago, so I was home alone. I grabbed a steak knife off the counter, and approached the door carefully. What if "he" found out where I live? I opened the door quickly, putting the knife at an angle pointing at the person on the other sides heart.
"WOAH! CALM DOWN LADY!" the man at the door yelled. I dropped the knife to my side, and examined the man standing in front of me. He was short, in his 30s, maybe. He wore a black and red uniform, and a name tag that says Ben. "These are for you from someone anonymous I'm guessing."
I watched as he picked up a bouquet of flowers and handed them to me. They are so beautiful! Yellow roses, and blue carnations.
"Thanks, " I told Ben as I shut the door in his face. I was in so much awe, that without thinking I called the number that James had left on the fridge.
"Marks Mechanics, how can we help you?" A women's voice called through the other end, sending a chill through my body. She sounds familiar.
"Hello, um is there a James there?"
"One moment please," there was a few seconds of silence.
"Hello, James speaking," joy washed through my veins with his voice.
"Hey, just calling to say thanks for the flowers, that was sweet of you. You even knew my favorite kinds," I said.
"Rebs? What flowers?" He sounded concerned but also jealous.
"What do you mean?" I looked over at the beautiful bouquet, and saw a little corner of paper sticking out in between the stems. It reads to Rebel from Him. "No," I whimpered.
"Rebel? What is it? Whats wrong?!"
"They're," my throat felt like it was closing," They're from Him." I flipped the card over and read the sloppy handwritten words.
Meet me at the cinema at 8:30 am today, we need to talk.
"Look, Rebs, I gotta go. Lock all of the doors, and don't answer the door to anyone. You'll know it's me because I have a key. I'll be home tonight. "
"Okay," I said as the phone clicked, indicating that he had hung up. I looked at the clock on the microwave. 7:30. Should I go? Should I risk it? Fuck it. I thought to myself as I grabbed a jacket. I left, not bothering to lock the door behind me.