Page 5 of His Witness To Love

"I'll see you soon," Brie cut the call off with a laugh and dropped her cell.

The room was empty, and she walked off in search of Mack. He stood with his back to her at the end of the hall, and she closed the distance before he had time to turn. She spun him around and pulled him down by the neck, leaning in to kiss him.

He hesitated, just for a moment, before responding and kissing her back with vigor. His hand found its way around her middle, and he pulled her up.

"Thank you," she said, breaking the kiss.

"For what?"

"Everything."

"A bit vague don't you think?" he chuckled as he put her down slowly.

"Even so," was her retort.

"Then you're welcome, Brie," he kissed her forehead and walked off.

"Let's get me packed, shall we?" His voice boomed back at her.

She shuffled after him. Things were looking up.

CHAPTER FOUR

The drive to the would-be safe house was mostly uneventful. Mack eased the car along, trying to sneak glances at Brie. An hour had ended up being the whole day. Rachel would not be pleased; he had decided to leave the details to the women.

The city seemed to be cast in a brown tint that came with a 5:30 glow at late noon. Glass flashed lazily as he drove past, and everyone was either home or on their way there.

Brie snored in her sleep; it was almost a purr, the rhythm lulled him as he listened. He had to make an effort not to join her in her nap. A red light stalled them, and he really got the chance to look at her. Anyone would wonder at the tilt of his head as he leaned to take all of her in, her hair was a mess, and her glasses threatened to fall off with the next bump. He eased the frames off her face, stirring her as he did so. However, with a low murmur, she turned over in her seat, and Mack could only stare at the back of her neck. He turned back to the wheel with the change of the lights.

Rachel was waiting for them at the metal let-in to her home. She watched them drive in, trailing slowly behind as Mack found a spot to set the car in. She made her way to Brie’s seat and gently tried waking her up.

“Oh, let me.” Mack came up behind her and scooped her off the seat.

“A deep sleeper, this one.”

Rachel watched him take Brie into the house; he held her like something he couldn’t afford to let go off, almost like she’d slip out of his grasp if he looked away.

“You can forget about the duffels, for now, Rach. I’ll come back for them later.”

She rushed ahead to open the door for him. Rachel loved it for her; she loved it all for her. She chose to fight the other feeling creeping up the back of her neck, the same thing that had her chest all tight, forcing her to smile even when she didn’t feel like it. She chose not to envy her friend. Nothing that had happened to them had been Brie's fault. They had stuck with each other through a lot of difficult things. Now she needed Brie as much as Brie needed her. This was no time for envy.

The house was bigger than Mack had thought. From the outside, you could call it a manor, but it went even further as you walked in, high reaching ceilings and a winding set of stairs. The wood all had a gleam set to finish and ivory replica paint-coated metal excesses everywhere.

“Nice house,” was all Mack could manage.

“They call it their castle; you’ll quickly learn that my parents are dramatic.”

“Bah! I’m old, Rachel. The drama makes everything I have left interesting,” Rachel’s grandfather muttered as he made his way down the stairs, a booming laughing frame of a man. He was old and looked the part with crow’s feet and a few too many crinkles when he smiled. His skin curled like an old rug, and his gait was frail. He looked old, but he didn’t feel it. His frail step bounced, his eyes were sharp, and his smile whispered that it only existed when he meant it. He was a force to be acknowledged; Mack could see him leading a football team back in his prime.

“Good day, sir.”

“Ah, please, just take old Brie upstairs; my wife will hold her from there.”

Mack made his way up the stairs with Brie still in his arms; the stairs were easy on the feet, none too high, and easy to glide through. Praise as he may, he couldn't deny that he liked it simply because it made it easier to move Brie without waking her up. He had had her on him for so long he developed a new commitment to the task, her utmost comfort. He came to the nearest room. The bed was made, and he came face to face with who he could assume to be the man’s wife.

She smiled and raised a finger to her lips while pulling back the covers for him to set Brie down. She responded slightly to the new movement and grabbed at his shirt. He smiled as he undid her grip on him and left her with the woman not too far behind.

“You must be Mack,” she said as they closed the door behind them

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